Let me tell you about being a nine-year-old black kid growing up in the northern Indiana city of Gary. The bustling little city on the southern tip of Lake Michigan, just across from Chicago was the home of US Steel Corporation.

When World War II ended, it was the greatest steel producing plant in the Free World. Gary, Indiana was a bustling industrial town with a thriving economy, growing criminal elements, and active racial segregation.

So, there were lots of things for a nine-year-old to be afraid of. Even Gary, Indiana back in those days could be a very scary place, for any age. Just for starters, there were street gangs, flying bullets, mean drunks, violent drug dealers, rabid dogs, and brutal police. Add to that big-time gangsters, small time criminals, pimps, prostitutes and con-men of every kind. These were the things that faced all inner-city residents. However, when you're nine years old, none of these things could compare to the most terrifying phenomena facing ghetto kids everywhere — the terrible monster that lived in the family coal shed after dark.

Now for those of you who never had to deal with the Coal Shed Gremlin, in those days, in the inner city, coal stoves and furnaces were used to heat most buildings and all the homes. With that being the case, everybody had to have a place to store the coal in the fall and winter. Those fortunate enough to have a basement, usually had their coal stored indoors.

Most however, had to rely on a storage building called a shed. These buildings came in all shapes and sizes, and were universally dark and cold. Regardless of its shape, the shed had a door in the front that opened into the backyard and a window in the back that opened to the alley in the rear.

Each fall, the coal trucks would come down the alleys making their deliveries. They would dump the coal through the open rear window of the shed, and that, my friends, was how gremlins got into the coal sheds.

You see, when you are the only boy in a family of girls, the job of taking out the ashes and bringing in the coal falls squarely on your skinny little shoulders. For some strange reason that I never could understand, this job could not be done during the hours of daylight. Oh no! This always had to be done just before bedtime and right after the winds started to blow.

Everybody knows that there is a monster lurking around the coal shed at night. They also know that it is only interested in little kids carrying a coal scuttle. That's why they built the thing a full fifty yards from the back door.

While carrying a full bucket of ashes from the stove, you had to stumble across the back yard, ducking under the clotheslines, and avoiding spilling any ashes. This, you had to do in total darkness since the light on the back porch hadn't worked in years.

First you went around to the alley and dumped the ashes in the bin — that was the easy part. Now you had to unlock the door and enter the realm of the Coal Shed Gremlin.

Your task was to refill the coal scuttle and take it back into the house to feed the coal stove. You had to bring in enough coal to keep the heat up all night or else you'd be making another "still of the night" trip to the Gremlin's lair.

The trick to surviving the attack of the Gremlin was to keep talking and singing loudly — you see gremlins didn't like loud noises and couldn't stand the sound of off-key songs. So, before you opened the door to the shed you had to start talking or singing. And if you were to keep the demons at bay you had to keep it up until you got the coal, closed the door, crossed the back yard, and stumbled in the back door.

Now in all honesty, I must admit that I never saw an actual gremlin in Gary nor have I ever heard of anyone else laying eyes on one. I believe I was off to college before I heard anyone express doubt or disbelief about the little guy.

It really didn't matter if there was really a terrible little monster lurking in the coal pile or not. What did standout however, was that our school Glee Club developed into an award-winning musical organization, and I smiled a lot in High School.

~ Harvey Dority