When I was a young boy, probably around 9 years old, a few of us kids were downtown in Flint. We were sitting at the lunch counter at the S. S. Kresge Store ordering a hamburger, french fries, and a Coke. There were around five of us boys. Next thing we knew, Mr. Mott sat down next to us. He talked with us a little and asked where we went to school. Then one of the boys said, “I smell moth balls.” At that point, Mr. Mott somewhat laughed and said that Mrs. Mott sometimes had him use moth balls in the closest where his suits were kept. Then after he finished whatever he was having for lunch, he paid his bill and stood up to leave. Then he told us….”Boys save your nickels.”