Two Boys and a Spider

At this age, they hunted spiders amid the bamboo, elephant ear, un-cropped shrubbery and cactus gardens of Long Beach, California, circa 1956.  Their plan was choreographed, simple, and yet, effective. The larger boy held a pickle jar, holes poked in the lid with a steak knife, the glass already obscured with web and spider juice or something and a third full of crawling spiders, some faster, depending upon time of capture.  In his other hand, he held a red and black dotted lady bug.  Together, the boys searched for webs, the larger the better.  Upon finding one, the lady bug was tossed upon it, while the smaller boy stood vigil, right hand ready to grab, for they were sometimes fast, those spiders, but the boy was quick, too, and snatched up both spider and web in his fist, careful not to crush the spider that he felt scurrying around in his hand making him giggle, because it tickled. The larger boy shook down the spiders, unscrewed the lid, and another deposit was made. He then retrieved the lady bug.  Oh, they knew of black widows and recognized them immediately; they knew of stinging bees and those with Hs on their backs that did not sting; likewise, they knew the red ant sting, but that some black ants didn't, and termites never.  They knew lizards and snakes, horny toads and frogs, and the architecture of ant lions. They discovered one particular large web that led to a funnel, a tunnel of web, and they could not see the spider, but tossed the lady bug with Pip-like expectation.  A large spider charged from the tunnel, up the funnel, and before the small boy could seize it, it grabbed the lady bug viciously, injected it and began to roll and wrap it in web within its needle legs.  Of course, the boys were shocked, aghast, apalled, and yes...frightened.  They became the hunted, and to this day share an abnormal fear of spiders.

(Happy Birthday, Brother!)

(In 1950s Long Beach, enterprising photography studios, sometimes working with a dairy company, came and sought customers where they lived, in their neighborhoods. They came in  large vans that contained makeshift studios, complete with chairs, backdrops, tripods and the like. Upon learning photographers were in their neighborhood, mothers rounded up their kids, scrubbed their faces, wet and combed their hair, dressed them with a clean shirt, and marched them out to the van.  Proof sheets arrived in the mail weeks later, and, depending upon their means, families selected photographs.  These are two examples of that photography; the one on the bottom is cropped, but had a calendar at the bottom.)