Wall Street Doug Fraser

My brother Doug was more outgoing than me. I had my small circle of friends and so did he but he was quicker to make friends when we moved to Wall Street. Doug is the one that brought Doug and John Fraser into our lives. It was because of the Frasers that my brother became "Hotch." Doug Fraser was older than my brother. Because of his age he took precedence over my brother who first was called Doug Hotch and then that was shortened to just Hotch. So from hereon Doug means Doug Fraser and my brother is Hotch.

Doug was a year younger than I was and John was Hotch's age (Hotch is four years younger than me). They all started to hang out together. At first I wasn't a party to their antics. I think it was the Great Coventry Gumball Machine robbery that brought me in.

Down on Main Street near Jim's Hardware and Dr. Duboff's dental office was one of those gumball machines, you know, put in a penny and twist the handle and you'd get a gumball. The three of them had stolen the who machine but they couldn't get in open. So they enlisted me figuring I'd have a bright idea. I couldn't get it open either. Someone had the bright idea of breaking the glass globe which worked but none of them wanted to cash in the pennies. Because I had not been seen grabbing the machine (I doubt that any of them had either) I was elected to take a paper bag full of pennies to the bank. I think we got about fifty cents each. Big score.

Throughout our time on Wall Street, Doug, John, Hotch and I had many adventures. Some were just kids stuff - telling dirty jokes, trying to pee our names in the fresh snow, stuff like that. We always seemed to be on the verge of crossing "the line" and I guess some times we did. I remember getting a stern lecture from State Trooper Kolodziej for throwing snowballs at cars from the Nathan Hale Monument at top of Monument Hill.

We thought it was a perfect place to ambush unsuspecting drivers. I guess it was but some of the drivers didn't agree and complained. The date must have been before Coventry had its own PD and was covered by the State Police. I don't remember how we became the prime suspects but it probably had something to do with being recognized (Coventry was and is a small town).

Many of my escapades with Doug revolved around cars. I had a 1949 Chevrolet Torpedo back that was a real piece of shit. It was my first car; I was probably around 14 at the time. I knew very little about cars but was determined to drive the Chev. My mom was teaching in Marlborough, CT by then so she usually didn't get home until two or three hours after we got out of school. I'd tinker with the Chev and then try to start it but usually the battery was just too weak to get it to fire. I think if there had been a hand crank on the engine I could have cranked it over faster. So being a bright young guy I'd push it out of the drive way and down the slight hill to bump start it. Except it rarely fired on the first try so the guys and I would push it as far back up the hill as we could and try again. The problem with this was that if it didn't start we weren't strong enough to push it back into the driveway. 

One time it didn't start and we just couldn't get it into the driveway. Time was of the essence because my mom was due home. (It may have been a couple of times we got caught out like this but I've condensed them to one.) So Doug got the Fraser's riding mower and John got his pony. We got the Chev back into the driveway but if I remember the riding mower got toasted. Doug's dad, a big hulking guy, was not happy. 

Then there was the time Doug and I decided to run away to see my dad in Chicago. I was 16 and had a '57 Ford. Like most cars I owned back then it was crap. I remember my Uncle Gibby saying it looked like "an accident waiting to happen." So of course Doug and I thought it was the perfect transportation to Chicago.

We headed west late afternoon. For some reason we decided to the old highways (I can't remember the exact route). I know we went through the Catskills. Anyway it was getting late, it was dark and I was tired. Doug had been bugging me to drive and I let him. Doug was only 15. 

For some reason a New York State Trooper started following us. Like two idiots we decided to switch places while we were moving, I mean what could go wrong? I guess the view of a beat up piece of crap weaving all over the road while the people inside climbed over each other might have been a tip off that something was amiss. The Trooper pulled us over.

Didn't really matter who was driving. In New York at that time if you were under 18 you could only drive between dawn and dusk. We were busted. In some ways it was comical. 

We were placed in the cruiser and driven to a Justice of the Peace - at about two in the morning! The JP was in his pjs at his kitchen table. I was charged with driving under age or something like that. The verdict was swift - Guilty! The JP asked us how much money we had (not much, maybe just enough for gas to Chicago - it's not like we thought this through). BAM! Down went the gavel and that was our fine, exactly what we both had in our pockets except for some small change.

We were then taken to the nearby State PD Barracks and our parents were called. My mom wasn't home (I can't remember why, most likely something to do with the American Legion) but Doug's dad was. He came to pick us up. The trip home was just about the worst trip I ever took. Doug's dad had a Chev pickup, maybe a '63 or '64. For some reason I sat in the middle. Doug and I both were dead tired but his dad wouldn't let us sleep. Every time I'd start to nod off I'd get an elbow in the ribs. 

Running away didn't turn out to be such a good idea. We ended up broke. My car was impounded and when my mom took me back to get it a week or so later windows were broken and stuff was missing. I'm pretty sure I was grounded forever and Doug and I were forbidden to see each other. At least that didn't last.

Doug was super competitive. My friend Ronnie Anderson had a Ford F-1 with a flathead V8. For some reason he and Doug raced - Doug on foot and Ronnie in his truck. It maybe was only 100 feet. I'm pretty sure Doug won; there is no way he would let himself lose. He rarely lost.

Doug and I drifted apart (oh sure we had a few more adventures before that happened). I quit school and went to work for Joe Pelletier's Chevron. Doug quit school about a year after I did. We moved from Wall Street to Avery Shores, and the Frasers moved from Coventry to Windham.

I knew Doug had joined the Army before his 18th birthday. I didn't think it was a good idea but Doug was determined. Doug had always been a competitive guy and I think part of it was to prove his manhood. I think another part was to get away. Doug idolized his dad but I also think he feared him. I don't know what was going on in Doug's mind; we were friends but we weren't soul mates. I probably shared more of my inner feelings than Doug did.

Doug died in Hau Nghia Province, South Vietnam on July 6, 1968. The "Casualty Type" was listed as "non-hostile." I'd heard that he and some buddies were proving their bravado. I don't know; I wasn't there.

I went to the funeral with my mom. Doug's mom, Mary, was very torn up. I was just stunned like so many of Doug's friends who were there. Doug was so young, just barely 18. One thing sticks in my mind. I know it had some bearing on my future actions. Doug's mom said to my mom, clutching my mom's arm, "Don't let them take your sons Elaine."

Doug Fraser was a friend of mine and he died way too young. I still think of him. He had a smile that could disarm almost anyone.

The Army and/or Vietnam didn't get me but they got my friend. It still doesn't seem right. This is for you Doug.