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Updated on January 3, 2021

The first thing I learned living on the street was to trust no one and to never let anyone what you are thinking.

The first thing I learned living on the street was to trust no one and to never let anyone what you are thinking. The pretty people like to say that they would never eat out of garbage cans. I have news for them. Not only would they eat out of garbage cans, they would like it. They would also do whatever they had to do to eat and stay out of the cold. I met a girl who hung out around skid row. Her name was Pauline and she introduced me to a crooked real estate agent who would pay us to break into houses and steal paintings, jewelry, and other expensive items.

Pauline and I became fast friends. It is hard to explain but whatever that ‘IT’ is, we had it. We could not get enough of each other and we clicked physically, mentally and emotionally. We ran errands for the real estate agent so we could earn a little money to eat. This real estate agent catered to wealthy people and her crooked ass had us ripping everyone off. She would tell us what home and what to take. She would take it to a fence and then give us a cut of the money. When I think back on it, I am certain that her crooked ass was ripping us off with our cut of the money. Some people would say I did some bad things and they would be right. However, when you have not eaten in a couple of days and you are on the street with the temperature 10 below zero, you do what you must do.

I got involved with a hooker who would fix me up with older ladies who liked teenage boys. I did it because it got me off the street and put money in my pocket. It did not mess up my mind. I looked at it as doing what I had to do to survive. I eventually got picked up by the police and was put in Juvenile Detention. When they called my house for someone to come down and get me, Mr Moore told them to leave me locked up.

Being in juvenile detention I learned real fast that you must stand up for yourself or you will be abused by the other kids. I was brutal to anyone who might try to take something from me or turn me into a jailhouse punk. I would find years later that I had been so violent because of what my dad and his fucked up family had done to me. Some kids did have their butt-hole violated. If they did not inflict serious bodily harm on the one who had violated them, that kid would be considered a punk and would be subject to abuse on a daily basis. When I first arrived there I was approached by a kid who wanted me to go into the shower area with him. There was a ping pong table in the day room and I picked up both paddles and proceeded to try and knock his head off. I beat him until they pulled me off of him. He had to go to the hospital, I got thirty days lock-down.

There was a school down on the second floor and kids who were going to be guests for a long period of time had to go to school. Since I was a question mark, I had to go to school. There were two young ladies who sat in front of me who were always giving me the eye and showing me some leg. I was nice to them but all of my attention was given to my partner in crime, Pauline.

Pauline was in the lock-up because her mom could not control her. She called the police and told them to take her away. In those days parents could have their kids locked up if they could not control them. . I spent more than a year locked up and not one single time

In the school, one hour a day you could paint, weave rugs or make ceramics. I was not a very good painter but I was very good at ceramics. The teacher from time to time would go outside to smoke. Whenever he went to smoke, Pauline and I would go into the supply room and touch tongues. After a few months, she was sent to a school for girls and I never saw her again. It took me a long time to stop missing her.

After I was discharged from the Marine Corps I tried to find her. I was able to get in touch with her mother who told me that Pauline was in prison. That was a big let down. My love life was on the blink for a number of years because I was looking for her if that makes sense. I needed something to fill that empty spot and I went on adventures all around the globe for a lot of years. One day, I woke up in a house on a hillside jungle with someone I did not know on one side and a big ass ugly snake on the other side, and I could not remember what role the snake had played the night before. It was that day that I realized that I had to let her go.

For a number of years I would attempt to contact her. She was always in and out of the Reformatory, so I was never able. I wrote her a letter while she was locked up and her response was not the girl I was missing. She had turned cold and hard. That sweet girl I knew was long gone and I was able to finally let her go. I went back to Ohio a few years ago and I thought about looking for her, but I did not.

© 2021 Don Robbins


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