Stories by Robert M. Dorsey
This collection of stories gives the reader a wonderful glimpse into life in the 1940’s in a small roadside town that once sat along Highway 99 in Central California . Author, Robert Dorsey, has been very honest about his family life and adventures as a child and teenager. It is amazing what was dreamed up to entertain a youngster in those days. The World War II experiences are very real as well. The little community of Wheeler Ridge – no longer there – was located just north of Grapevine Canyon at the southern end of the San Joaquin Valley.
Softcover, 60 pages, $8
From the Back Cover
This collection of stories gives the reader a wonderful glimpse into life in the 1940’s in a small roadside town that once sat along Highway 99 in Central California . Author, Robert Dorsey, has been very honest about his family life and adventures as a child and teenager. It is amazing what was dreamed up to entertain a youngster in those days. The World War II experiences are very real as well. The little community of Wheeler Ridge – no longer there – was located just north of Grapevine Canyon at the southern end of the San Joaquin Valley .
“I spent a good deal of time looking at the floor while being
bent over father’s knee.”
“The bus ride to school each day on the dangerous Highway 99
was a challenge for our driver, Mr. Carter, as he watched for
runaway trucks and passing vehicles on the three lane road.”
“Each day we would see many Air Force trainer planes in the
air out over the valley, practicing for war.”
“At school my desk was located so I could look up on the
mountain at a pile of rocks. Here I thought would be a
good place to fight the enemy with a machine gun.”
“Looking for something to do for fun in 1944 usually meant
poor choices. Many things on our ‘to-do’ list turned out to be
lacking in good sense. Planned things to do were non-existent
so we as young teenagers were left to improvise. Slow trucks
traveling south on Hwy 99 provided an invitation for us to hop
on and see what the load was.”
“Our house was the last one on the east side of Wheeler Ridge –
come to think of it, it was the last on the west side too.”
“I could see the lights of the fire camp up ahead and felt
relieved that I had survived another lesson from the
school of hard knocks.”