My Mother's older brother, Tim and his family had moved to Pico Rivera and they had a small television set. Every Tuesday night we would drive from Artesia to Pico Rivera to watch wrestling and Milton Berle on my uncle's television set. We would drive past dairies, farms, a bar with a neon horse racing to nowhere (I think it was called The Turf Club) and the Red Star pile of fertilizer, a huge mountain of fertilizer that you could smell long before you saw it. One Tuesday as we were on our way home, we were driving down a street in Artesia that held several medical buildings and a small hospital. It was dark and as we drove a young male child ran directly into the side of our car. The police came and the boy was taken to the hospital. We were brought home and placed with a babysitter until my parents could learn if the boy was okay. Fortunately, the boy was fine. It seems he had been left alone in the car while his parents went into the hospital, he had become frightened and was running to find his parents. He wasn't looking for traffic and didn't see our car until he ran into it. Thankfully, he was okay. The next day my parents went out and bought us a new television set.