Ronald H. Gerber
Progenitors and a few comments.
I came into this world on 2 February 1943 as the third child (later to be 5) of Frank Francis Gerber Sr. and Gladys Dorothy Gerber (nee: Koch). Preceding me were Shirley Frances and Frank Francis (Jr.). Following me were Barry Jon and Suzanne Lynne. I was partially named in honor of my mother's father, Howard "Harvey" Herman Koch, who was married to Kate Vernirva Koch (nee: Moyer). On my father's side of the family, we had John Gerber and Hattie Gerber (nee: Whitehead).
 
Here is my Lord Fauntleroy period. Love the curl??? Notice the velvet outfit. The next picture is a little older and still posing on the bench. Lost the curl though.
I can recall my grandfather John having been a one legged man, who lost his leg in stages to frostbite and finally died of lockjaw when he refused to let them start removing his other leg. I can recall him cooking on a coal stove for his wife Hattie who was blind and bed-ridden. I understand he pretty much refused to let anyone cook for his wife, so his arms were rather burned.
I have better memories of the man whose namesake I became. He was a big rig driver (so I have been told) until he decided to buy and operate a bar called the Pine Street Inn. That is where I most remember him, as we were living in part of the upstairs rooms, where we had a kitchen, a parlor, a bedroom for my parents, and a bedroom for the rest of us. The structure was an immense one and I can remember the bar kitchen with all its food making capabilities, like our own French fryer, and fry slicer. Connected to the kitchen was a long room with a shuffleboard, a dart board, and a lot of tables. Downstairs, the cellar was not typical of what most kids had. Ours had a cooler for the beer, a large storage area, and several old style coolers from when ice was used to keep items in storage. So it was a neat place in which to play. It was while living there that I actually traded a kid a cap gun for a real musket of antique status. We still have the pistol somewhere in the family as it was stored at my older brother's house for about 20 years while I kicked around the world while in the military.
I was told my father was called 'lefty' when he played local baseball. I asked why ' lefty' when he was right handed and was informed that he had been scouted by either the Philadelphia Phillies ( National League) or Philadelphia Athletics ( American League), but had blown out his rotor cup in his arm and had to finish his baseball career as an outfielder who could only throw the ball in from the outfield by using his left arm, hence the nickname 'lefty'. He was also noted for having pitched one game in which he got 27 strikeouts for a no hitter and still lost the game 1-0. How?? errors by his teammates.
After breaking his back on a train car when he was a brakeman for the Reading RR company, he had to find some new method of supporting all of us. Due to the accident, he had a long gouge out of his back, which I estimate was about 3 to 4 inches long and 1 to 2 inches deep, and directly along his spine in the small of his back. He; thereby, could not do regular work. He found the skill within himself to become a professional gambler and was good enough at it to keep the family sufficiently supported that I was never aware of being deprived or poor.
My mother worked at a local company painting 'glow in the dark' numbers on watches when she was not acting full time as a wife and mother. Little did anyone know the harmful effects of Radium on the human body at that time, and painters use their mouths and tongue to keep the paintbrush tip at a fine point for painting the numbers. My mother was of such strong material that she lived a long period past when she was diagnosed with having sustained several heart attacks and her heart was working on so little, that it could not register on any machine they had at the time, so etimates were that she was living with a heart that had been 75% damaged. I remember keeping vigil with the rest of the family when she was dieing. We took turns sitting at her bedside, while the others took a break from the stress. Only once did we all leave the room and it was at that moment that my mother passed over. Since I had my teaching degree in biology, it became my duty to ascertain if she had passed away. A tough chore for any child to perfom on their parent.
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