We are hired to teach Social Studies in Pasadena High School, Pasadena being a suburb of Houston. I say we, because at that time the wives were expected to put in an appearance at PTA meetings, school events, act as chaperones, and such, just as the teachers were.
While he was interviewing for the job, he also checked out the city. When the news came that he was hired, he went to Pasadena to sign the contract and fill out all the stuff for tax withholding and that sort of thing. He also found us a two bedroom apartment to move into.
Wouldn't you know it: we move in a Texas rainstorm. Stan hired a small moving truck, and he, Stevie and I moved the essentials like beds, linens, dishes, a table and couple chairs, and some clothing. After he set up the beds, he drove back to Austin that same night to load up the rest of the furniture and his books, and The Picture.
The apartment had linoleum flooring, and as I said, it was raining. A perfect combination for an accident. So...the floor was wet from hauling stuff into the apartment, in the rain, from the moving van. Stan was well on his way back to Austin when it happened. Stevie slipped on the wet floor. Fell forward, his chin connected with the floor, and there was a rather large, bloody gash just under his chin.
OMG!! Strange city, no phone connected, no car, didn't know where the hospital was in any case. What to do? I told Stevie to lie still, I'd be right back with help. He was a brave little kid, I'll tell you. I went to the apartment next door and pounded on the door. Explained that we were just moving in, my child had slipped on the wet floor, could they help?
The "lady of the house" answered the door, and after I'd told her what happened, she called her husband. He grabbed a blanket went back to the apartment with me, wrapped Stevie in the blanket and put us both in his car and took us to the hospital. No questions asked, didn't ask if we had insurance or if I had any money (which I didn't). Just packed us off to the hospital.
Stevie had to have some stitches, and he didn't even cry. I was a nervous wreck. And he had a big bandage under his chin. I wish I could remember the name of our neighbors. It'll come to me after I close this. Anyway, Mr. paid the hospital bill, and wouldn't give me the bill so Stan could pay him back at a later time.
After we got back home, Mrs. had a dinner ready for us. And soothing words. And assurance that they were just next door if I needed anything. Stevie was groggy and not much interested in food, so I put him to bed. After I settled down a bit, I managed to eat a little of some great Texas cooking.
While I was still upset by "my baby's" accident, exhaustion finally set in, and I went to bed. The next morning, Mrs. came over and invited us to breakfast. Oh, that coffee was so good.
I cannot say enough about Texas hospitality. Nowhere else have I encountered such friendliness, open-armed welcome, and sincere caring for friends and neighbors. Everywhere we lived in Texas--El Paso, Austin, Pasadena--it was the same thing. My recollection is that Texans are just naturally nice people!!
Next: more about the apartment and neighborhood.
Shalom.