My mother was the oldest of six children, which leads me to believe there wasn’t a lot for consenting adults to do in the 50s, the two siblings that followed her were boys that were barely a year apart. My Uncle Brian and my Uncle Larry, of which you will hear a lot of stories about since these two were a mischievous pair, but the first story will be about bunk beds.
Having six children in a four bedroom house limits space terribly especially when my great grandmother lived with them. So bunk beds were used in both the girls and boys rooms to save space and my Uncle Larry always had the top bunk and my Uncle Brian always had the bottom. Well my Uncle Larry was a mover and shaker in his sleep and would roll around a lot, usually into the wall beside the beds, but sometimes he’d roll over the guard rail and fall to the floor.
He did this numerous times without incident until my grandmother worried he’d hurt himself and forced the boys to switch bunks. Well my Uncle Larry, the mover and shaker, rolled himself out of bed and right into the hospital.
When he fell out of the bottom bunk he struck the dresser beside the beds with his head and got a concussion and landed on his wrist wrong, breaking it. Poor fella.
My Uncle Brian found this all to be hilarious as they rushed my Uncle Larry to the emergency room.
They put him back in the top bunk the following night.