One of many things I regret as a youngster was ever trying to become a member of Sister’s Brigade. My compunction has had to do with telling tales. And as we know, some can tell ‘em, some can’t.
Let me explain:
In the Las Vegas of my early years, there was a great deal of stratification. Although the strata often fell along ethnic lines, I suspect it was more a matter of the haves and the have-nots. And much of the enrollment at my school, Immaculate Conception, came from areas on the east side of town, Grand, Railroad, Pecos and Commerce.
Almost all of us east-siders walked to school; as for many students from the more affluent areas, their parents chauffeured them. And a precious few high schoolers got to drive their own cars. One car driven by a member of a wealthy (for the time) clan, took up lots of acreage on National, in front of the school. Remember, in those days, the 1940s, parking wasn’t a problem. Continue reading