MOSSELL CHILDREN

I was a youngster in the l920s. Children spent most of their time out of doors. Indoors was for eating, sleeping and doing as few chores as possible. Radios were owned by one or two families in a city block and mainly were for adults – so when a new family arrived on the block, the kids wanted to know all about them. Their names, ages, number of boys, number of girls, etc. Very often I had this problem. I would say four boys and no girls. Their names were Frank, Mossell, Charles, and my name is Forrester, but they call me Billy. They would say that’s just three. You counted yourself twice. No, I wanted to say louder, Frank, Mossell, Charles, and me. They would say, “You said Frank, yourself, Charles and you?” Now even louder I said, “Frank, Mossell…” “You have a brother named ‘Myself’?” “No, MOSSELL!”

Mossell is an interesting name. My brother was given Nathan Frances Mossell Lee. My mother was a Mossell. Her great uncle Aaron A. Mossell, Sr. was the grandson of slaves and lived in Baltimore, Maryland. Born in 1824, he was married with three children at the time. He worked for a company that made bricks.

Note: One’s family background does not make the individual. What we ourselves do is what makes us who we are. That being said – what Aaron Albert Mossell, Sr., born in 1824, the grandson of slaves with his wife Eliza accomplished is really noteworthy. Read what each of their five children accomplished. This is a great American story. Please go to Google and write Aaron Albert Mossell, Sr.”

MY FRIEND PAUL

He had a brilliant scientific and philosophical mind.

A friend in need is a friend indeed.

Paul Brown, a great friend? Yes, but much more. He had a brilliant scientific and philosophical mind. Paul read the Bible cover to cover twice before making up his mind about religion. I drew on him for his sharp mind. He used me to help him in social situations. We were at opposite ends of the spectrum. He was an only child with few, if any, playmates. I had three older brothers and a neighborhood full of playmates.

We were going home from school one day. As we approached a filling station on the corner, I told Paul to ask the guy inside for a key to the restrooms which was in the back of the building. When Paul didn’t come out right away, I went in and he was standing there looking at the girl behind the desk with his mouth open and nothing coming out. It was unusual in the 1930s finding a female in a filling station, but there she was. I was there for the rescue. ha

A pretty little girl invited Paul over on Friday evening. I had to go with him. I did all the talking. Later, I said, “It’s getting a little late. We had better get going.” I said, “Good night, Paul.” He said, “Yeah.” I guessed we’d be going – good night. She said, “Good night.” When we were out, Paul said, “You think she likes me?” I said, “You’d have to ask her, Paul.”

About this time, Paul was writing arrangements for a small musical group we had, although he never studied music, like harmony or arranging, or music in any form.

Paul and I had a great time our senior year in high school. I gave up some of my sports in order to keep up with Paul and graduate. I loved all forms of music, including classical, but struggled with the fundamentals of reading music, writing, and playing it. Paul was a natural whiz in all forms. I tried to help him socially, but he was of little help to me. It is difficult for an average guy to pick up scientific and technical knowledge from another just by association. Paul and I had fun laughing at each other, playing a few gigs together, and having a little change in our pockets. Remember, this was right in the middle of the Great Depression.

After graduation, Paul went to the University of Cincinnati, Ohio – I attended Wilberforce University in Wilberforce, Ohio.

Our sophomore year in college is another story, as you will find.