[I suspect contemporary readers will find this article far too long and detailed. I have consciously chosen to error in this direction not because I think my life is particularly interesting (it is not) but partly because it is a subject upon which I can write with authority and mostly because my experience with genealogy has led me to value those rare snipits of insight into the day to day lives that occassionaly survive to reach me.

To me genealogy, although bound together by blood, is very much more about history. History has become an avocation for me. Each different generation is born into a new context and faces an environment mutating at a seemingly accelerating pace.

The problem domain of human society is not readily addressable by scientific method. Time scales and ethical consideration discourage experimenting with peoples lives. Therefore, the data provided by our history is the principle source available to guide us in the design of the next corrections or improvements to our social organizations.

If this document should survive, it is my hope that it will be appreciated by some future generation for the insight it may provide into a relatively ordinary life of a Baby Boomer.]

Bob Pekarske was born 30 AUG 1946, right on the leading edge of the Baby Boom! His parents Robert John Pekarske and Shirley Jane Pavlet were living in Oakland, California, when the war ended. His father, a Navy Radio and Radar Repairman, was stationed at the Alameda Naval Air Station.

After the Navy discharged Bob's father, Bob's parents moved back to Milwaukee and moved in with Shirley's parents in their bungalow home at 3822 N 25th Street. Apartments were hard to find after the war. About the time Bob was due to be born, a flat directly across the street became available and the new family moved to the lower flat at 3823 N 25th Street.

One day in 1949, after watching his parents drive away without him (his sister was about to be born) Bob sat forelornly upon the curb. His grandmother sat next to him in an effort to console and reports that Bob said "I probably would feel a lot better if I had a cookie."

Not long thereafter the family bought their first home to accomodate the growing family. This home was a Milwaukee bungalow on the northwest corner of 17th and Finn - about a mile east of the grandparents. [This home no longer exists, the entire block having been absorbed into the grounds of a new vocational school.] On the northeast corner Lindberg Park filled the entire block, and on the southeast corner the entire block was occupied by Keefe Avenue Grade School and its playground.

Milwaukee's streets were laid out in a grid pattern (with some notable exceptions). North/South streets were numbered (17th Street) and East/West streets were named (Finn). On the west side of Bob's block was 18th Street, on the north end was Nash Street. The next two street going north were Vienna and Melvina - between which was located his grandparents home on 25th Street.

The block was about 12 homes in length - a mixture of two-flats and bungalows. Another 12 homes faced west onto 18th Street and the block was bisected by a north/south alley. Garages were accessed from the alley and garbage was picked-up from the alley. Many of the homes had concrete ashboxes, an artifact from coal burning days. In the early 1950's ragmen and scrap metal collectors were still seen in the alley with horse-drawn collection wagons.

The house had a full basement below and a half-finished attic under the eaves. A front porch ran across the full width of the front of the house - this one fully screend in. The front entrance opened into the living room via a short hallway, but this entrance was seldom used by the family - being primarily for guests or for family access to the porch on days of clement weather. Family came and went via the rear entrance.

There was a milk shute on the landing of the rear entrance. This device was a small opening in the exterior wall of the building big enough to hold a delivery of milk, butter, and eggs (mostly milk for us). It had a door opening into the house and a door opening to the outside. The two doors were connected with a spring device designed to prevent both doors being open at the same time. The first time Mother locked herself out of the house, we learned how to defeat the interlocking mechanism, and more than once young Bob found himself crammed thru the opening to unlock the door from the inside. Fortunately criminals in those days were too large to fit.

From the rear landing you could go down to the basement or up to the kitchen. The basement ran the full length and width of the house, but not under the porch. In the northwest corner of the basement was a disused coal bin and the artifacts of a sealed off coal shute by which coal had been delivered in earlier times. There was also a functioning toilet and enough room for Bob's father to later build a small workbench and work area for Bob. Forward of this was the furnace room.

In the southwest corner, at the bottom of the stairs, was the laundry area. Initially Bob's mother used the soaking sinks and an old style wringer washer to do the washing. Cloths were hung to dry outside on lines strung between the house and the garage. Bob recalls pilgrimages to Sears and Roebuck where Mom lusted after a new fangled washing machine and Bob sat mesmerized watching poker chips bouncing around in the demonstration model in an attempt to display the improved aggitation provided by the new design. She probably wanted a dryer, too, but apparently the demonstration was less memorable.

The east end of the basement was casually divided by the lolly posts supporting the central beam into Dad's side (north) and the family side (south). Initially Dad's side was dominated by the tubes and gadgets of his electronics "hobby". Later it was taken over by a model railroad that became a significant influence on young Bob. Also in the corner of Dad's side was a small iron stove. It was here that Bob discovered his latent tendencies toward pyromania. [While this tendency never got out of hand, Bob often proved useful in building the cook fire or tending the fireplace. If challenged on this fascination Bob would undoubtedly state that the way in which a few simple rules of chemistry and physics manifests in the fractal complexity of a flame is simply an exemplar of his personal world view.]

If from the rear landing you chose to go up thru the rear hallway to the kitchen you would find a bright and open space large enough to support the table upon which his mother's culinary efforts were served to the family. An oilcloth tablecloth and fiesta ware were the rule. The formal dining room, forward of the kitchen, was used only for special occasions. It had a built-in sideboard on the kithen end and a large window seat in a bay window facing south. An archway opened into the living room.

On the north side of the main floor, parallel to the kitchen and dining rooms, were two bedrooms seperated by a full bath and some storage. The front bedroom was for the parents and the back bedroom for the children.

When the third child arrived the finished portion of the attic was enhanced as a sleeping area for Bob. Before this it served strictly as a play area. Bob embraced this promotion with unqualified ambivalence. On the one hand it signified that he was a "big boy" and on the other it stimulated some very scarry dreams.

Being a corner lot, this home had a good sized yard. The house was situated on the northern boundary toward the front of the lot. Behind it was a smallish area - some grass and some garden - and at the back was the two car garage with a narrow strip of fallow land occupied by garbage cans and various cast-off items working their way toward the garbage.

The full length on the Finn side of the lot as well as across the front was dedicated to grass (with the exception of a thin border of flowers hugging the buildings). The back yard was fenced, the front and side bounded by a hedge. Pruning the hedge apparently required the skills of an adult. The grass was cut with a manual pusher reel-type lawn mower. Apparently lawn mowing could be held to a lower standard than pruning and so fell upon Bob as soon as he could budge the mower.