The Great Silk Worm Fiasco

Uncle Thomas worked in the local silk mills, the worlds largest.  Millions of silk worms were raised to keep the mills humming.

When WWII came, each paratrooper needed a parachute, so a new plant opened.  Uncle Thomas became a foreman, able to indulge in an occasional good cigar.

Uncle Al, on the other hand, always had expensive smokes.  According to Mother, he was the family's black sheep.  Doesn't every family have one?

Uncle Al was called a "book maker".  When I asked if I could read one of his books, he looked puzzled, then laughed.

"I'm not a 'book maker', two words," he chuckled.  "I'm a 'bookmaker', one word.  Or 'bookie'.  I take bets on which horse or team is going to win."

Uncle Al was always coming up with money making ideas; "schemes" Mother said.  One time he convinced his brothers, except Thomas, to invest in a silk worm farm.

"The little critters," Uncle Al started, "are valuable.  We'll 'borrow' some from the mills, and breed them.  If some horrible disaster struck the mills' farms, well..."

"We can't involve Thomas.  The mills would suspect him."

The brothers were hesitant.  A lot of "lucky coincidences" were needed, but Uncle Al had a reputation for luck.

A heated building was leased, lattice work constructed, and us kids collected bags of leaves for feed.  On the appointed day, some worms "moved" from the mills to Uncle Al's building.

Within a week, Uncle Al was avoiding his investors.  The worms were dropping like confetti.

Finally, Uncle Al asked Uncle Thomas for help.

"You've fed them maple and oak leaves?" Uncle Thomas questioned.

"Yeah," Uncle Al said.  "In the mills they're always eating leaves."

"MULBERRY LEAVES! " Uncle Thomas shouted.  "That's all they eat."

That's how the "Great Silk Worm Fiasco" entered family lore.