If you just want to read the stories then skip to the stories. I will be sharing stories from my dad's high school life in my next post.
The past month has been traumatic, emotional, significant, and a moment in my life that has changed my soul forever. I have cried everyday since February 17, 2024. Watching my mom go through her grieving process is the hardest aspect of this process besides losing my dad. I do not want to bring up all the feelings that are right below the surface, and often times above the surface, in this post. I want to write stories about my dad. There are a "plethora" (my dad had the biggest vocabulary and would use words that no one else ever used) of stories that I will share as time goes by about my dad's life. I hope to write a book about my dad someday by putting all the stories together.
You do not have to know my dad or his brothers to find the stories entertaining and/or hilarious.
For those that were able to attend the funeral, Starla shared a story about my dad and his brothers reenacting the circus that they had just watched on the television. I am going to be writing that story in this post, plus a few more stories from his childhood. I don't have hours to sit down and write all of his stories in one sitting, but I will continue to post stories about my dad. His childhood stories always made us laugh. My dad and his brothers had a way of telling stories where you felt like you were there. It was fun listening to all of their versions and perspectives and how each of them would add to the story. Writing the stories down is not the same as hearing the stories from my dad's mouth. I definitely got the goofy side of my dad in my DNA. I did not get his ability to retell events in my life in a way that transformed the listeners to feel they were there when it happened. My dad was a visual storyteller.
My dad's Immediate Family:
My dad's family consisted of: mom (Eileen), dad (Bill), Butch (5 years older than my dad), my dad (Bill or Billy), Gene (18 months younger than my dad), and Tom (15 months younger than Gene and 2 years 9 months younger than my dad).
Some Stories that My Dad Shared:
This story took place before my dad was in grade school. It wouldn't surprise me if it was one of his first memories.
Billy and a little neighborhood girl wandered down Waverly Drive, the street they lived on in Pico Rivera, California, and climbed onto a restaurant roof where there were big potted plants. They thought it would be fun to push the plants off of the roof onto the cement below. One of the pots almost hit a customer. The customer told the owner of the restaurant who came out and yelled at Billy and the little girl. Both Billy and the little girl ran home as fast as their little legs could go. Billy hid at the bottom of his bed under the covers. The store owner followed Billy home and spoke to his mom (Eileen). Eileen waited until her husband got home to talk to Billy about it. Billy's dad (Bill) had to buy new pots and plants and then repotted them.
It's Flooding
Billy's family lived on Waverly Drive next door to Harry the Cop. One day when Billy was around three or four years old, he wandered into Harry the Cop's house. He explored the house, including laying on Harry and his wife's bed. I am sure there was some jumping also. Then Billy decided to go into the bathroom and turned on the bathtub. He must have gotten bored and wandered on home. Harry and his wife came home to a flooded home. The water flowed down the hallway and into a floor heater and out below the house. Harry the cop and his wife thought my dad was so cute that they didn't get upset.
We can get the video on a thumb drive next time we come visit. We are planning on bringing mom with us next time we come. I love you!!!
We can get the video on a thumb drive next time we come visit. We are planning on bringing mom with us next time we come. I love you!!!
Butch Gets Bill to Make Peanut Butter
Bill was around seven and Butch was around twelve when this story took place.
There were a bunch of Mason Jars in the garage of their home.
Butch said, "Hey Bill, come here."
"Do you know how to make peanut butter?"
Of course Bill did not know how to make peanut butter.
Butch continued, "Well, you take these plants and you stuff them into a jar and fill it with water and then put them on the shelf and after awhile they turn into peanut butter."
Butch split after that and my dad didn't see him for the rest of the day.
At this point in the story my dad said, "I was a little kid. I was around seven. I can't think yet. I couldn't put two and two together. This story verges on abuse!"π
Bill got about 30 jars and worked hard filling them with plants and water to make peanut butter.
Everyday Bill would go out to the garage to see if the jars of plants had turned into peanut butter. Butch never said anything and let Bill anxiously await for peanut butter to appear in the jars. It went on for a couple of weeks until their mom went out to the garage to get some Mason Jars.
She looked at the jars and exclaimed, "Oh for Pete sake! What is this?"
Bill told his mom that Butch told him how to make peanut butter.
I asked my dad, "So, whatever Butch said was golden?" He answered, "Yes! I looked up to him. I loved him. Why? I don't know."π
My Uncle Butch said, "The only thing I disagree with is that it was not abusive. I was providing an educational opportunity!"
Some of my favorite Ctibor memories are of my dad and his brothers bantering back and forth. They liked to razz each other and try to outdo each other. It was always a good time with lot's of laughter.
The Ctibor Boys Join the Circus
This was my dad's favorite all-time childhood story to retell.
The story took place around 1958. Butch was around fifteen years old, Bill was around ten years old, Gene was around eight years old, and Tom was around six years old.
They had a black and white television set.
The four Ctibor boys were sitting Indian style on the floor watching the circus perform on the television. They watched a guy standing on a pendulum. It looked like a teeter-totter. A guy was standing on one end. Another guy jumped from a pedestal fifteen to twenty feet up in the air and lands on the other end. It catapulted the guy that was standing up into the air. He did a flip in the air and landed on another pedestal. The boys thought it was awesome. They got excited and were like, "Woe!!"
They got the grand idea to make a circus of their own in the backyard. They lived in a farmhouse on land. They found a long board about 2 feet X 12 feet. Then they got one of the barrels on the property. They put the barrel on its side and then the board on top of the barrel.
They talked Tom (of course the youngest) to stand on one end. Butch was on the garage roof. Tom was around six and Butch was around fifteen. Bill and Gene were standing along side of it. They looked up at Butch then they looked down at Tom. Then they looked up at Butch and looked down at Tom. Then finally Butch jumps. They watched Tom fly through the air and then BOOM! right onto his back and the ground went poof. Gene and Bill walked over and Tom had the wind knocked out of him. He finally gasped. Then thirty seconds went by and they would hear him take another gasp of air.
At this point in the story my dad said, "He got the wind knocked out of him. He could have died!"
Butch split. He went over the back fence into the neighborhood behind their property. No one saw him for the rest of the day.
Gene and Bill figured they were in trouble. They went over to the swing set, which was not a manufactured swing set. It was made of huge pipes and went at least fifteen feet up. Gene and Bill started swinging. They figured the higher they swung the more innocent they would be. Gene and Bill didn't say a word to each other. They were just quiet and pumping their legs as hard as they could while watching Tom lay on the ground. Tom laid their for a good three minutes.
Finally, Tom sat up. He sat there for another minute. Bill and Gene felt relief. Then he got up slowly with his bib overalls on and patches that his mom ironed on to them. He started walking slowly to the door. It was a big property so it took awhile, especially to a little kid. He got to the back door and stops at the steps. He went up one step and then the second step and then the last step. He stood in front of the old screen door. That is when he started to cry. It was a cry that started at pianissimo and crescendo into triple forte. That's when Bill and Gene were really going on the swings! They were swinging for their lives! Tom went into the house and a minute passed by. Their mom came out to the porch with pin curls in her hair and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and stared them down with her hands on her hips.
None of them got in trouble. Their mom was a saint putting up with all their antics.
Front Row from Left to Right: Tom and Gene
Bill, Gene, and Tom Set the Field on Fire
Bill and Gene were out in the field playing with matches. Tom ran up and said, "I'm going to tell mom!" Bill stood up and yelled, "We don't care!" and then shoved Tom. He fell back and his arm landed on a pottery shard. His arm was sliced open and the meat of his arm was just hanging there. Tom jumped up and yelled back, "Now for sure I'm going to tell mom!" Tom then noticed his arm and started whaling up to the house. Their mom (Eileen) had just learned how to drive and drove Tom to the doctor's office on Telegraph Road.
Bill and Gene set the field on fire while their mom and Tom were gone. The fire truck showed up. The whole thing was on fire!
From Left to Right: Billy, Gene and Tom playing in the fields behind their farmhouse on Telegraph Road
I am pretty for sure they were older than they were in this picture when they set the field on fire, but you never know with those boys.
Gopher Whac-A-Mole
The fields behind their house were inundated with gophers. My dad relayed, "For entertainment we would flood gopher holes. The gophers would come up angry and we would hit the gophers with a shovels. That was good fun."π
"Sometimes we would dig holes out in the fields. It was sandy earth. It was dangerous! The river was right down the street. One time we came across a gopher nest. There were little baby gophers. Their eyes weren't even open. So, we got Mason Jars, filled them with water, and dropped them in."
We were all shocked at that story since we did not grow up on a farm where gophers were pests!
Carrier Pigeons
Bill was around fifth grade in this story.
Bill raised carrier pigeons. His neighborhood friends also raised carrier pigeons. One of the pigeons that Bill owned was a great big pigeon that was really old. He called the pigeon Homer. It was almost dead. He could barely flap it's wings. All neighborhood boys decided to attach a cherry bomb to its leg.
At this point in the story I asked my dad if Uncle Butch was there when they attached the cherry bomb to Homer. My dad said, "No, Butch was away at college." Uncle Butch jumped in with, "Katie, I would never do something so cruel." My dad had a good laugh at that and said, "He would have been right there in the mix." Then Butch said, "So insensitive." Like I mentioned, they loved to razz each other.
Bill threw the pigeon up in the air and the cherry bomb went off with a big bang. Homer fell to the ground with a thump. That was the end of Homer.
Margeret Durden, a neighbor girl, was looking out over her property wall and she saw Homer get blown up. She yelled, "I HATE YOU BILLY CTIBOR!" Bill was shocked. He had no idea that anyone was watching. His friend, Andy Rodriguez looked at him and said, "Man, your dirt." Donny Mistero said, "She is going to tell every girl in the neighborhood."
The following week at school, Bill felt like all the girls were walking by him with scornful looks on their faces.
I learned from Brian after marrying him that it is better to put an animal out of its misery than have it slowly suffer to death.
My dad built a pigeon home. He would let the pigeons fly and they would always come back to their home.
That's it for now. I know there are more stories. I am hoping that my sisters and I will remind each other of childhood stories that my dad has shared with us throughout the years. I will start sharing his high school stories, which I think are the funniest stories, in my next post.
I know that writing the stories is nothing like hearing the stories first hand from my dad, but I want to write them down so that they can be documented.


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