Then in 1954, our growing family of six left a since demolished rental home next to Koch’s Brewery on Lincoln Avenue in Dunkirk and bought a house in the 300 block of Robin Street. It was there I lived until my high school years.

My dislike for Jamestown began at a very early age. I would hear my dad complaining about the city and its residents as early as I can remember. According to him, they made a habit of treating north county residents as second-rate Hillbillies and Marauders. He was far from alone in thinking that way. The county’s north-south split was and remains a painful reality.

Dad was a member of three sports officials groups. Mark Hammond joined the Chautauqua County Baseball Officials Association, Southwestern Chapter of the New York State Certified Football Association and Board 39 of the International Association of Approved Basketball Officials. All were based in Jamestown and run by and large by Jamestown-area residents.

That didn’t sit well with my dad. Every meeting for all three groups was held in Jamestown. There were no exceptions.

My loyalty lies with the city of Dunkirk. I’ve never been a fan of my hometown city of Jamestown.

All prospective candidate instruction classes were held in Jamestown, as were banquets.

He endured decades of Jamestown meetings and despite his best efforts, couldn’t convince the powers to be to ever change their ways.

He truly hated Route 60. That road in the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s was much worse than the miserable version we drive today.

When I began officiating in the ’70s, I found things hadn’t changed at all. At least in two sports.

The umpires were led then by a longtime baseball veteran who ran his organization like a dictator.

He was elected president for a series of terms and doubled as the sole game assignor.

To receive a game assignment, you had to raise your hand and be chosen by the president. It was terribly demeaning and unfair, needlessly time-consuming and wrong. Nowadays, games are offered by computer through an assignor working with a peer-elected committee.

It took a dramatic, mid-meeting walkout by a group of non-Jamestown-area umps and later a coup of sorts to finally oust the longtime czar.

It began a new era I feel has since been blessed with outstanding and marvelous leadership.

The boys basketball group I joined was also Jamestown-centric. It was led by a group of Jamestown-area residents who held seemingly every position of power.

Meetings were held at Jamestown Community College in a large circular meeting room. Those in charge sat on one side of the room, while a younger group of Jamestown natives sat on the other. The younger generation battled its elders for dominance.

The rest of us were repeatedly outvoted in yearly elections for any and all committee assignments. The votes were never close.

Us outsiders were a clear minority. We seemingly were second-class citizens and earning advancement from the candidate group to the promised land of varsity status was perilous.

Some years, the majority declined to grant varsity status to any young official. It was demoralizing and more than one young referee bailed on the rampant old boys club mentality.

Change came slowly to this latter group, but change did come for the better over the 40-plus years I was a member.

However, my dislike for the city of Jamestown remains unwavering. A lifetime of surviving the ever dangerous Route 60 as well as being treated as inferior will do that to you. And your dad.

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DO YOU have a favorite, funny, weird, best or worst memory of amateur sports refereeing, playing or spectating? Drop me a line at mandpp@hotmail.com and let’s reminisce.

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Bill Hammond is a former EVENING OBSERVER sports editor.