Aug. 20, 2003 - 19:17 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Place In Time

Some day my grandchildren and great grandchildren will look back on today and think, "Those were the good old days !" Much as I look back on days of my childhood.

Then I have to remember, the Civil War, or euphemistically The War Between The States hadn't been over too long, there were still Civil War veterans surviving. I was born not too long after World War One was over and there were many veterans of that action living nearby. Also I should remember that most of my childhood the Great Depression made things tough too.

But, there were some super good times in there for me. Things that lead me to also say, "Those were the good old days."

I am thinking about where I lived in our house through my childhood. It was a simple two room brick house originally built on the back of a city lot to be a car garage and workshop but changed into living quarters. Our "front" room was mostly for sleeping, but the davenport (Forerunner of the Fold-a-bed) could be folded up and make into a nice couch and my sleeping was done on a studio couch which also made a nice place for company to sit and other than a chest of drawers and a wind-up Victrola there was no room for much else. It had a center ceiling light fixture and the light wasn't too swift for doing much else but visiting or sleeping.

The other room was kitchen, diningroom, it had a coal range and dishwashing area and the back of the room was walled off and split into a closet and a bathroom - no tub or shower in it though, just a commode with shelves above it.

In there was a buffet, table, four chairs and a Governor Winthrop desk that my uncle made for Dad. It was a simple layout, table in center with four chairs around it, buffet against one wall and the desk went between the table and the wall on Dad's side. He could sit at table or swing around and work at his desk. He kept charts on the stock market, using a drafting pen and India ink, I found later that he was a pretty good statistician. Later he also worked on stamps there, trying to fill in his revenue stamp collection from his teen years.

Mom sat at the end of the table nearest the coal range as she chilled easily and was near the cooking stuff too. She would crochet, knit, do needle point, mend clothes but frequently she would use a foutain pen and matched stationery answering and writing letters, to her mother and a woman friend who had moved out of state.

That left two corners of the table for me to occupy and what I was doing at the moment governed where I sat. I read voraciously, pored over the Scott's Stamp and Coin Catalogue for stamps and in the process, learning about the countries of the world and many interesting things about them. I would put in my album stamps I had just acquired and often would take up quite a bit of space laying out sheets of newsprint to accomodate the wet stamps I had soaked off envelope paper from Mission Mixtures. Filling the sheet I would fold it over and leave them to dry and sort later. That labor of love paid me well, any stamp I didn't have that showed up in the Mix became mine. Grandma had taught me how to play Solitaire and I spent much time doing that, then too I was learning how to work crossword puzzles. So if I was home there was something I would be doing for amusement. Back in those days homework didn't begin 'til we got into middle school so my evenings were pretty well free that is, after I finished washing, drying and putting away the dishes.

The light fixture was over the table and it had a hundred watt bulb, plenty of light in that small space.

One of my fondest memories is of the three of us, each deeply interested in what we were doing at the moment even though each of us was doing something different than the others. Existing happily in the moment, exchanging words now and then, we - together, but apart it seems. I know that Mom and Dad had their worries but they were not brought out in the evenings when we were around table.

Through the evening there would be heard trains whistles from trains going north or south on the tracks near the Platte River not too many blocks away from where we lived. And then there would be the sound of the street cars going by a half block away from our house on Pearl Street which gave me a sense of security hearing one headed toward town and the ones coming from town and the sound of their wheels making the curve onto Evans Avenue. I was truly a "city kid" of the latch-key type.

Friday and Saturday nights were our nights for fun and games. Five-hundred Rummy, double Solitaire and many different word games that Dad devised. I think it was Saturday night that those cardboard Hit-Parade records would come out and often I would be sent to the drugstore to get the new one. If there was enough money they would also send me to the creamery to get a pint of ice cream -- Dad always telling me to get the change in Indian Head Pennies.

We did other things too, went visiting friends and relatives and seldom to a movie, but right now I am thinking about our wee "home sweet home."

I was seventeen years old when we left there for the new house. It truly broke my heart to be pulled from all the familiar sights, sounds, places and more importantly from the friends who had been my schoolmates from first grade. That pretty well put an end to our friendships as money was tight and carfare hard to come by for most of us.

So, when I think of "home" it is not of the new house in East Denver we lived in 'til I got married, but in my mind the time such as coming home from the neighborhood movie in the dark, sighting the light in the windows of that little brick house on the back of the lot, knowing my beloved Mom and Dad were there and my clothes too. You know, it was simple, they had to take me in I was their's. Us three in our small world.

Once again visiting one Place In Time . . . . . . . .

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