A Memorial Day to Remember

After moving to the country...we had to make all new friends. Our old life was left behind. We were miles away for visits from old neighbors. School was the place to start. I rode the bus on my way to school and during the first year I made my share of friends. I have always been very personable and had no quams talking openly to everyone. I was friendly and interested in everyones life. I now know, that God placed that gift into me when I was born. He gave me a strange sense of personality. I got to know everyone on the street visited them regularly. Some of them weren't too willing to have me for a friend, but most welcomed me and and we visited. I wanted to be a part of those people that lived near to me. That included the kids in my neighborhood. Being a tomboy and having an out house filled with bugs and spiders, I learned quickly to fear not. When I was 4 or 5 I ate earth worms..( they just taste like grittty dirt.) Now I was challenged to be likable to those around me. On Memorial Day weekend..spring had come and I spend most everyday outside. There were many things to do and places to go. I was new and I wanted to blend in..My neighbor Kathy Ritter lived at the top of the hill on Steiner Bridge Road. I rode the bus with her. She was 2 years older than me and I wanted to impress her. Why and when the bet came to pass, I don't recall...but at some point she dared me to rub poison ivy all over me. My father was not allergic to it, and perhaps I bragged that he could rub it all over him and he would not get it...for whatever reason..I took the dare and rub the new spring leaves of poison over my exposed skin. Within a few days I was covered with the red, seeping rash of poison over my body. In my eyes, down my throat, in my private parts...EVERYWHERE!! As the holiday presented itself. I was completely swallowed up with the poison. My parents had to find a doctor some place that was open on a holiday and they took me to get a shot..I was in misery. I have never itched so much in my entire life, except one time in my 50's when I got the hives, but that is another story...From that day on..I had alot of respect for that little green plant. Now, I find that I too am not allergic to it anymore. I imagine I had such an overdose of the poison in my blood. I have an immunity to it...????I don't know, but I still respect the power of that small, green, three leaved plant..that sits so innocently under the shade of that beautiful woodsy tree.

Country Girls Now

Now we are officially moved. We have water pumped up from the ground. We have electric paid for by a barter. A barter made by my father and the man we purchased the land from. We have sewage...not the way most people think of sewage but for us it was all we needed. I know now most of us live our lives so over the top. We can survive on so little and still be happy. We really don't need all those things we think we must have or must buy. All of our clothes were hand me downs from cousins or people that knew we were living in hard times. We yelled and jumped up and down thrilled when a garbage bag full of clothes showed up. We anxiously rummaged through it, picking out what would fit us..and what didn't fit, we made it fit. We rolled the waistlines, or cut the bottoms off. We became very inventive when it came to wardrobe exclusives. It was fun, as well as a necessary. We dressed as well as everyone else. We were clean, we didn't smell bad. Our hair was clean and combed. We were thankful for what we had. We carried water from the pump by the bucketsful. We heated it on the bottle gas stove. We bathed in a tiny metal square sink. We washed and shampooed our hair. Somehow it all worked. We finally realized we had each other and we were alive. Our lives meant something and we had to work to make it better. At night we used a little white potty with a lid. It was carried to the out house by a metal swinging handle. The black wooden handle at the top gave way to a sturdy trip. The outhouse sported two round shaped holes covered with a seat. It sat over a huge dug dirt hole built up on a wooden throne. Toilet paper that usually was taken over by the field mice needing a nest. Spiders in the corners that were safely out of the weather and served as mosquito and fly eaters. It all seemed perfectly normal. We as children didn't relize we were the only people on our street living like squatters but we didn't care, we were fine. We had each other. My mother and father often would shout and argue over our finances. I would hide my head under my pillow and promise when I got big, I would never fight, NEVER. Especially about money. I can say to this day and being married to my husband Ron, we never had even one fight over money...Never a disagreement about funds. We discovered a way we could support one another with what we had and I was free from hiding under my pillow..The promise I made to myself was kept throughout our marriage of 19 years....Soon summer was over and we were settled. We were ready to start school. I would go to Middlesex Twp Grade School. I was in the fouth grade. My teacher, Mrs. Painter was kind, mature and life began anew.

My move to the country

It was the summer of third grade. I had finally finished school for the summer. My father now in trouble with his radio and TV businesses. The IRS forced him to declare bankruptcy and closed his remaining stores. Of course being a kid, we didn't know anything about this..all we knew is that we were moving..away from the city. We were moving to the country. Middlesex Twp. to be exact. During that summer my father purchase a few acres of land with the few thousands of dollars he had left to his name. I remember when we went out to look at the parcel of land. My father made some sort of a deal that he could buy the property from a man that needed some wiring done in some houses..so I think they traded land for labor. However, we accomplished being country bumpkins during that summer. As soon as the school year ended we would trek up to the property and work all day, clearing and cutting brush. We did it all by hand, built a big fire and cut and dragged briar bushes; what seemed like for months..Every day, we drove up Route 8 to Middlesex Twp and worked on our land in Cooperstown. We all were a part of this effort. I was a tom boy so it was fun for me..I enjoyed getting dirty and smelly. I enjoyed the smell of the wood in my hair...we fell fast asleep in the old Dodge panel truck adorned with signs of "Curry Radio and Television" painted on the sides. Some nights I think we didn't come home, we just passed out after having something to eat and fell into a deep sleep til morning than began again. Eventually we got it cleared. Somehow a drive way was dug to pull our old blue trailer in from the West Mifflin trailer park. The truth be know, we looked like a band of gypsies..moving into the wild west. I remember my father discussing the price of putting an electric pole in and having a well dug...any price would have been to much. I think the well driller was Kaufold. He had this old rusty water drill and I am sure my father explained our situation and got some sort of barter thing going with them. I know my parents borrowed and begged money from people that would help us. My parents always very private of funds and things of that nature, we would never know how any of that came about!! But eventually we did have an electric pole placed in right near the driveway of dirt...and moving day came some time that summer. I don't recall how or who dragged the trailer up there..I would now love to know so many things I didn't learn while my parents were still alive and now will never find out. The three of us Carole, Georgetta and myself were now country girls..coming from the city. We were up for many new and exciting years ahead. Survival is something you do, and we were about to start doing it!!..Things were about to get TOUGH!!

A Very Snowy Day

Whenever winter comes in Pennsylvania and the snow starts to come down in streams I remember. You know that big, fluffy, flakey snow that fills the air around you. Suddenly it covers everything around you. It's that kind of snow that comes down so big, so fast it sticks to your eyelashes when you blink. It surrounds everything. It has no consideration of what it might stick to and conceal..Covering everything until the air is filled with that silent hush...that soft sound of quiet winter...Birds don't tweet, dogs don't bark and the wind blows only to pile the soft, white flakes in heaps. It usually happens at least once a winter when everyone shuts down. Schools closed, no work, people just forced to stay home and enjoy the day or night...The neighborhood is quiet, the cars cease to make even a track on the road through the new laid snow...It was that kind of day I will never forget. It was probably the strangest of all weather phenonemon. I was about 5 when I started first grade. In 1950 people there wasn't any testing done, if your mother felt it was time to enter shcool...You entered school..No matter what!...Anyway, I remember that night when it started to snow. Bigger than ever flakes, piling up on everything. At night it fell through the moonlight and softly blocked out the light into a muted gray..looking out the window we all thought we would be buried by morning. Going to bed we knew we would all be in for a surprise come morning. The next morning there was so much snow it completely covered the cars to where you could barely see them...The door to our add on living room wouldn't open...we had to push it until we could slither through a small space out into the snow covered earth. There was so much snow stacked against it...WE WERE LITERALLY SNOWED IN!! What excitment filled the house, the trailer park, the entire neighborhood as everyone made their way out the door to only find no starting place to begin the day...The day was about 50 some inches of snow fell that night..over 5' of snow. It was AWESOME!! Snow blowers hadn't been invented yet and shovel were everyone only resort...We made a path way with the shovel to get out...and throughout the day my sister and I tunneled through the new fallen snow...with our hands the way you do in sand, we carved out scoop by scoop a maze of tunneled paths throughout the yard and behind. The snow was over our heads, the cool blue color shined through as the suns rays seeped through the snow carved roof...The silence was all around!! It was like going through a maze of cold cotton..I remember that day, when I see those big flakes coming down but have never since seen such a wonderful day of complete awe struck beauty...carved out by our own hands...After a few days the ceiling all fell in and the snow began to melt..but our memories of that wonderful fun filled day will live forever!!

Sometimes bad things happen to good people

I remember one summer day all the mothers were whispering and talking amonst themselves. The air was filled with anger and saddness. Being only 6 or 7 years old, nobody was ready to share what the problem was and why everyone was out and upset. Life was much easier in the 50's as you can imagine. People were generally kind, and did the right things only because that is the way people acted then. A handshake meant as much as a notary seal. Honesty was never challanged and it just was taken for granted. People were basically honest. I never knew anyone that lied, or cheated, or did harm!...You could count on people, you could trust people and you just knew people were helpful. We all treated each one including our neighbor as we would ourselves. We knew our neighbors we took food we cooked over to them when they didn't feel well. It was a totally different world...On this particular day, it seems one of the boys in the trailer park had been missing the entire day...His parents were looking for him everywhere and nobody could find him...He was a young teenager boy. He played release with us every summer night and was just a normal kid. Now he had disappeared...I also remember the fire trucks that had come and parked at the bottom of the parking lot that led into the woods. They were on a search for this boy...the fireman loaded with flashlights disappeared into the woods..The search had begun!..The mothers and fathers waited for word of the boys welfare. The kids continued to play and didn't pay any attention to all the upset of the day...Then I remember one of the mothers began to cry loudly...all the other mothers consoled her with kind words. It seemed someone had tied the boy to a tree deep into the woods..left him there all day. It seemed the older boys took him tied him up and did perverted things to him...tortured him with sticks and did sexual things to hurt him. The fireman found the boy, tied, bleeding and unconcious on the tree....The entire place was in shock, who could have done a thing like this...This kind of thing never happened, never. People wouldn't have thought of being so cruel to another human being!!..This boy was innocent, a person victimized by torture...He was taken to the hospital...All the mothers were appauled that anything like this could happen...Suddenly, everyone was on high alert for safety. The bubble had been broken..Innocence has passed...Now that trust broken. A new word was about to usher in...Now bad things would happen to good people...The seal was broken...Trust no longer ruled and reigned...It had begun!!! Nothing anymore was sacred!!!....Evil sewed its way into our little neighborhood!!!

A parade unlike the Rose Bowl parade

When I was probably in second or third grade we still were living in West Mifflin and I was attending Walnut Grove School. I can still recall what the school looked like as well as my teachers. My second grade teacher was Miss Bashista..I imagine she was never married because she was older and had a bit of grey hair mixed in with the brown.. My third grade teacher was Miss Manandice. She was quiet, tall, thin and in her forties. For some reason back then, teachers were not married...thus getting the name..."Old school marm, or spinster." Most of my teachers were not married but as I got older and graduated into high school them were.

One summer day, I guess we were all bored and found nothing much to do, someone came up with the idea of all the kids in the trailer park getting together and instrumenting a parade. It might have been my older sister because she seemed to have a large part of telling everyone what they were going to do! However, we worked and worked on this parade. The route it would take, who would be which character, and costumes. The theme was every holiday in the year....I think back now and think, "This was pretty ingenious." It took weeks to work up costumes for Santa Claus, Father Time, and the Uncle Sam costume was really good. I wish I had a photo or two of the parade, but the only one I have is in my mind. The person in front had a big sign...announcing the parade. No doubt it was a Sunday afternoon when most everyone were home. Back in the fifties, people never worked on Sunday. It was the day of rest and everyone did just that. No stores were open, everything was shut up and stopped until Monday morning. My character in the parade was to be Susan B. Anthony....she was the one that fought for the right for women to vote...I remember I had a big hat and a green striped blouse. I wore white gloves. I can recall in my minds eye exactly what I looked like and how we looked marching down the street. When we passed the few people that lined the street. They clapped at our marvel of inspiration. There is just something about seeing a child perform, something that an adult forgets they have. A true sense of imagination, a wonderous mind of "can do!"...Children are wonders of God, he gave them the fresh innocent love that only can dwell inside. A wonder of people, places and things. The joy of being able to say exactly what is on your mind, even if it is insulting. It is always taken and enjoyed from that child like mind....Somewhere along the path of adulthood we all lose that. Some place along life, that child like faith is looked down on...People have raised the bar. People have destroyed the innocence of that child like faith.....If an adult would say things like a child they would be held accountable and made known to be insulting or crude. How sad, children are ingenious, children are the future!!

A New Year-1946-2009

This is a new year..I will be 63 this January and know that everyday I live is closer to the last. So I better get busy because I have so much to tell..NEW is all about life, the newness of life is in Christ but I don't want to get ahead of myself. So back to when I was a kid!...When I was small, New Years Eve had a different meaning..In the early fifties people felt new hope. The war was over and our country was on a new track. New inventions, new ways of life. Old things are now passed away and now women could stay home with their families and men worked...Unlike during the war..people stood in line for sugar, gas was rationed and people live everyday as if could be their last! That was over now, finished, everyone had new hope to move on. That is why there was such a baby boom, women wanted to get out of the factories and back in the kitchen. Therefore the apron was a new and most popular attire of clothing...Women baked, cooked, canned, and cleaned with joy! It was their place, a place they desired. Men felt like the bread winner and had a sense of pride that our country was back on track. We had conquered and been through another World War. Men came home bent and broken but with a new heart and a new sense of pride..Life was good again babies and more babies were born to be nurtured in their homes that now would be rebuilt. Life reinvested, children happy to play. There was NO TV.. only on Saturday cartoons and all in black and white. Early morning cowboys...the good cowboys always wore the white hats! I remember so well getting up at 7 am and turning on the 5' screen to watch a black and white cowboy show. Saturday was TV day, morning only. The rest of the time a round circle overlaid in black circles and a piercing loud high hum...called the test pattern was shown. After a while a few new shows would appear in the evening...But they were few and far between..It was an amazing thing to be able to see anything right in your living room...on a small little screen. People were happy, things were simple and life was good! Men had jobs, women were happy to be Moms and kids played and ran and had no fear of the evil ways of the world..Most everyone was thankful to be alive. Happy for life and able to once again survive. It seems strange now to look back and see the difference in attitude for a people that were thankful for everything. An attitude of gentle suffering and life worth living....to the present attitude of being owed everything. Greedy and selfish. The "ME" attitude that people carry around so prevelantly now...So a NEW YEAR now a total time of complete celebration...A CELEBRATION OF LIFE AND SURVIVAL!! Thankful and joyful for a new beginning. Another chance to start over and make new!!