About the Book:
Born the third of seven children to Greek immigrants in September of 1929 in Lowell, Massachusetts, author Titus Plomaritis has left his mark on that town as he grew up, raised a family, and played an integral role in the sporting community. In Titus, he shares the many and varied stories of his full and active life.
In this memoir, Plomaritis takes a journey through his past and entertains with a plethora of anecdotes from his early family life and backgroundplaying football for the Lowell High School football team and a surprise ending to a Thanksgiving Day game; his volunteer duties with the booster club; his fulfilling career as a chiropractor; his involvement with President Jimmy Carter; and the six times he was fortunate to survive close calls with death without suffering tragedy.
With photos, newspaper article excerpts, and letters included, Titus shares a wealth of personal and family history of a vibrant man who started out as a tough little Greek kid blessed with speed and football ability and progressed through a lifetime of accomplishments.
Read an Excerpt:
RIDE TO THE HOSPITAL
(A short story on page 40)
This would be the appropriate time to relate my one bad experience related to splitting wood.
It was a hot summer day and I was home alone when I decided to surprise my brothers and split a pile of wood. I was 12 years of age at that time. As I was splitting the wood at a fairly good clip, the axe apparently was getting dull and needed sharpening, but I just ignored the warning and kept chopping away.
This one time the axe got stuck and I was having a difficult time separating it from the block of wood. I pulled real hard on the long handle—and it released suddenly. Losing my balance, I fell to the ground and landed on a broken bottle. Then I noticed blood squirting out of my left upper thigh.
I ran into the house and jumped into the bathtub with a bottle of peroxide and a towel. I kept pouring the peroxide on the wound until the bottle was empty, keeping the towel pressed on the wound. I then took one of my father’s neckties and tied it around my leg, ran down the stairs jumped on my bicycle and rode it to Lowell General Hospital, which was located one and a half miles from our house. I ran into someone’s office, and that someone in turn took me to the emergency room.
After explaining the details of the accident to the doctor, he cleaned up the messy necktie bandage ensemble, added a few stitches and sent me off.
I don’t remember if the hospital ever sent my father a bill, if so I’m sure it was deducted from my shoe shine account, as was the necktie.