I Actually Remember!

As I approach a BIG birthday this week – I not only started reminiscing over the past in general – but how much growing up as a child has changed – really changed since I was a young girl. 

You may have heard the saying ‘The Good Ol’ Days.’  I don’t really know if they were good as much as they were days which gave us much to hold on to for the future.  Life seemed much simpler.


Simpler, yet at the same time they were days when hard work was something to be proud of, and success was something you strived to accomplish for yourself.  When you succeeded, you knew you did so because of how much you put into it, and you didn’t expect handouts.  Most Dads worked hard, long hours, making sure their family’s needs were met.  Kids grew up knowing that when they became adults, they too were expected to work hard.  Most families I knew had very little, yet what they did have was truly appreciated and cherished.

I remember kids playing outdoors as many hours as possible.  We didn’t have much structured play, like being on ball teams or taking classes outside of school.  Besides doing our chores and our homework, most had a carefree childhood.  We pretty much were out from early morning – maybe popped back for lunch and dinner - and were told to make sure you are home before it got dark.  You ran, you raced, you won, you cheered, and sometimes even lost.  Yes lost!  It was ok for kids to know they could lose, again and again.  We just tried harder and harder each time, hoping one day, we would be one of the winners.

My family moved a lot – which gave me the opportunity to grow up both in urban communities as well as the suburbs.  Some of the games children played varied because of the neighborhood – but most were pretty similar – and in both, kids were usually found outdoors most of the time.  We pretty much played either in each other’s yards or in the street.  When in the street, if one of us saw a car coming, we yelled “CAR” and everyone scattered to the side of the street.  Drivers also knew there would be kids playing, and therefore drove slowly, expecting the warning, “CAR” to be yelled.

I remember when getting into trouble was “cutting yards” – where a group of us split up into teams, and literally ran through backyards throughout our neighborhood.  I remember being asked by Greg, the cool kid, if I wanted to learn how to flip a fence.  Of course I said yes, he was the cool kid!  So he had me practice in his backyard; jump up with my waist on the top of the fence, and flip over – landing on the other side of the fence.  And you couldn’t just land on the other side, you needed to land on your feet, ready to run.  As short as I was, I mastered this.  And soon, it was known that I was on Greg's team.

We would dash through yard after yard – the challenge: don’t get bit by the dogs chasing after you, don’t get caught by the “old folks” yelling at you as you ran through their yards, don’t get hit by broom handles - or whatever other ‘weapon’ was being used to threaten you as you flipped fence after fence, and be the first team back.  Most people screamed at us, yet almost smiled as you chose their yard to cut through – as long as you didn’t trample their gardens.  Maybe this was because kids were raised to always be polite and greet adults – therefore they all knew us, and knew which were trouble makers and which were just being kids having a good time.

I remember spending hours skating with large groups of kids.  Skating outdoors was always done with metal skates that fit over your shoes or sneakers, and needed a key to adjust the fit (which was always worn on a shoelace around your neck).  The sound of skaters coming down the street in droves let parents know where the group of kids were around the neighborhood.

When we outgrew our skates, we’d use them on our Scooters, using wooden crates and old pieces of wood that we’d find in someone’s garage, garbage pile, anywhere.  Some scooters would be made to stand on, others were meant to sit in the crate and had steering capability, using old baby carriage wheels – but all were used to race the other kids – many times downhill, resulting in busted scooters, and black & blues.  As long as you made it all the way down the hill you were thrilled, and if you won – everyone cheered; the bumps and bruises were well worth it.

Kids also played stickball or kickball – with bases either drawn in chalk in the street – or specific items, such as a fire hydrant, stop sign, gutter, etc. were designated as bases.  Jump rope was a great pastime – usually using old clotheslines.  And if you could jump Double Dutch – you were “in.”  This took skill to both learn how to jump in and out as well as learn how to turn the two ropes in opposite directions.  You would always find a group of Double Dutch kids in the schoolyard.

Once in awhile, on a rainy day, we were treated to an afternoon at the Roller Rink, where you rented shoe skates, with wooden wheels, to be used in the wooden rink.  An organist was always present – to us, he looked to be at least 100 years old – playing live music to skate by!

Going to the movies was another real treat.  That took up and entire Saturday afternoon.  Admission was about 75 cents.  Theaters were immense, with ornate decorating inside, giant velvet drapes hung in front of the one super large screen on the stage.  You were greeted by a host – who welcomed all the kids to the movies and you were treated to a juggler, magician, or acrobats performing.  Afterwards the lights would dim and the ‘Newsreel’ would run – giving us the latest news from around the world.  We then saw two cartoons and finally the main feature.  An entire afternoon of entertainment that sometimes also ended with a chance to win a prize in a raffle – a big prize!  I still remember the shock when my friend Janie won a Schwinn bicycle.  I also once won – but was not so thrilled – since I won a Singer Sewing Machine.  Mom was excited – but I always remembered the time Janie won a bike!

One of the best treats ever was going to the Drive-In Movie with the entire family.  Mom would have us all put on our pajamas – bring pillows & blankets, and we’d head out to the Drive-In.  I can still remember the sound of the gravel crunching under the car wheels as we drove to our spot.  That meant the fun was about to begin. 

First we’d go to the playground with all the other kids; most were also dressed in their pjs.

As it started to get dark, we’d get popcorn, soda and ice cream – come back to the car, where a speaker would be attached on the inside of the driver’s side window – which by the way, also worked as a heater – since many nights would get a bit chilly in the car.  I’m not sure whether we stayed awake for the entire movie – but I knew every time the night got darker, the giant screen seemed brighter; I always thought of how much I loved going to the Drive-In.

A favorite treat was ice cream from the Good Humor Ice Cream man – who actually came around the neighborhood pushing his ice cream cart.  The Good Humor man was required to tip his hat to the ladies and salute gentlemen.  He made change from the coin changer attached to his belt.  And there was Bungalow Bar – the cool ice cream truck that actually looked like a bungalow on wheels.

Of course the real ice cream treat was when you were a bit older and were able to go to Jahn’s Ice Cream Parlor with your friends and order the Kitchen Sink that you would all share!

 

I remember some special times spent with my Mom.  Some were treats and some were actually going on errands with her.  Whenever she would purchase groceries, she would receive S&H Green Stamps – which were placed into her Green Stamp Books – a job given to me and proudly done well.  After collecting enough books to trade in – we would make the trip to the S&H Green Stamp Redemption Center and choose a special gift, or a small kitchen appliance.  I can remember the excitement of handing in the books and coming home with something new; even if it was an appliance it was exciting!

Sometimes we were treated to a trip into “the city” – which of course everyone knew meant Manhattan.  What I most remember is standing on line at Radio City Music Hall to see a show.  While in the city, we would stop at Horn and Hardart’s Automat for lunch.  The Automat served freshly made food for a few nickels, and Mom insisted that no one made a better cup of coffee.  The food was actually freshly made, by culinary chefs, known to be extremely good quality and taste, and was enjoyed by everyone.

I was given a handful of nickels and by dropping the nickels at the wall of small glass doors, I could pull out a sandwich, hot food (such as meatloaf & mashed potatoes, mac & cheese, etc.), and even a warm piece of pie or pudding for dessert.  It was more than an inexpensive place to have a good meal; it was a treasure, and for its time, an ingenious technical dining experience.

I remember there being many services that benefitted families in our neighborhood.  Our milk was delivered to our door before sunrise, left in a metal milk box outside our door.  I would hear the clang, clang, of the milk bottles – which were glass – hitting each other in the wire basket the milkman used to carry the bottles to our door.  Empty bottles would be left for the milkman to pick up when making the next delivery.  He also drove his refrigerated truck standing up.

The Dugan Man drove through our neighborhood.  The truck had bread and cake, and was found driving up and down our neighborhood streets; and it was the best bread & cake too!  The General Grinding truck also came by regularly, offering to sharpen knives, scissors, mower blades, etc., right in front of your doorstep. 

Looking back, I see how important it was to serve the people, make life a bit easier, while many were also able to make a living offering these services.

When we lived in a house on Long Island, being invited over at a spur of the moment to a neighbor’s BBQ was common.  While in the city, seeing parents sitting on stoops, chatting, arguing, laughing and getting to know more about each other, was a common scene in each neighborhood, while kids played endlessly all day.

What I remember most about growing up both in an urban community or suburbia, was that families all knew each other, knew each other's children, and looked out for one another.  Perhaps that was because we were not horded up in our homes all the time in front of televisions or computers.  Also, it was a time when most Moms were at home – therefore making it easier for everyone on your block, if not in your neighborhood, to get to know all the kids - Moms were usually the backbone of the neighborhood.  I remember neighbors were always helping each other out in regard to each other's children - a time when the old African proverb, "It takes a village to raise a child," was actually lived. 

As I write this, boy do I feel old . . . very old!  I realize so much has changed in just 60 years.  Many changes may have been for the better, inventions, technology, etc.  But some have been at the expense of basic relationships.  How much do we know each other, our neighbors, and what’s going on in our community?  Have we become so content in our technical world that we’ve become insensitive to what’s most important – people around us every day?  And how does this impact our personal relationships within our immediate families?  How will this impact tomorrow’s generations?

Ah – 60 years of memories, many blessings, good times, and definitely many struggles.  I hope I will never let go of what is most important – and will hold on to the many memories of all those I have crossed paths with during this portion of my journey.

The Good Ol’ Days . . . fond memories and lessons learned to hold on to.