Jan. 01, 2005 - 16:02 PST

THE WONDERING JEW

Magic Car-Pets

Coming to awareness in the era I arrived, things were different.

People movement was mostly by foot. Exceptions were going to town to work or to shop where a trolley car was ridden.

There were trains that went further than a trolley, not too often ridden by most of us, but they were there to use. For us boys when we arrived at a certain age or parental perception of responsibility on our part a bicycle provided a much swifter means to move about rapidly. And as our strength and endurance grew, the milage we could do in a day was more than parents realized.

Looking back, I remember that most city streets ones we call "through" streets had a speed limit of 30 mph and residential streets 25 mph at the most. The streets were narrower and traffic not as congested here in Denver, it seemed to me that there was plenty of room for a bicyclist. Oh, I had a scare or two when an inattentive motorist would make a turn and almost hit me or squealed to a stop before he did. Somehow though, in those days people for the most part did watch out for each other most of the time.

Where we lived there was a trolley "wye" on our avenue where the trailers were stored in the off hours. They'd be there overnight and each street car out on the route in the morning would pick up a trailer to handle the heavy load of folks work-bound. Think that is where they were parked after the morning rush and picked up on the way downtown to handle the after work folks.

We had two inter-urban trolleys going from Denver to Golden (in the foothills), one that went out the north way past Lakeside Amusement Park and past the northside of Coors Brewery on into town. The other was the one I liked. While still in town its route was a bit devious and coming on out there were enough curves that it seemed like a sea of poles supporting the trolley wires were right ahead of us. As soon as that was negotiated the trolley sped up to a remarkable speed for a vehicle like that. Just guessing I would say it hit about 45 miles an hour which was a treat for this kid. It would sway as it rocked along, doing the wooden trolley car twist. I could see the front end twist one way and where I sat in the back could feel it twist the other way. Sitting mid-car it was easy to observe the action at both ends. A trip to Golden on Saturday was fun, often a picnic lunch was brown-bagged by us and soda-pop bought in Golden to wash it down. Clear Creek canyon was just west of town and a hike up the old roadbed of a defunct railroad let us city kids experience the hilly out of doors.

In the summer evenings we enjoyed tormenting the motormen by pulling the trolley. Usually we would be in two groups. A guy from one side of the street would pull the trolley and his group would beat a highly visible, noisy retreat. The motorman would get out, go round to the back and engage the trolley and get back in the trolley, all the while eyeballing the point where the group was hiding out. About the time the motorman would get the car started a boy from the group on the other side of the street would sneak up and pull the trolley. We soon learned that we shouldn't do that too many times to a motorman. Seems like the police would show up if a car was held up too long. No two way radios then, I suspect that a neighbor would see the action and put the call in.

Trolleys were not a staple of transportation but a huge form of amusement also. Sometimes a bunch of us boys would get in the rear of the car and start swaying to and fro, causing the motorman to shut down and come back and make us behave. The action really did upset the adult passengers. I doubt if we could have tipped it over but it really made people feel that we would cause it to happen.

Of course we would put scaffolding nails on the track to get flattened, having bent them first we, had an almost inexhaustible supply of mini-pirate-swords. Then we lived a life on the dangerous side, briefly. At night we would line up cartridges on the track, a nice long row of them. When a car ran over those it was exciting to hear the fusillade in our quiet neighborhood. Guess that it was common occurence in our town as the police didn't not show up. We always put the cartridges on the track with the lead side facing the oncoming wheels. One of us, no one could ever find out who, thought it would be fun to have lead spraying the neighborhood and placed a row of them with the brass side to be contacted first. Nobody got hurt but a plate glass window got a hole from that. Only by the grace of God nobody was hurt. That was the end of that exercise, as none of us really trusted the others enough to try that again.

Automobiles when I was a kid were something that Dad used to take the family places. More convenient than a street car and not bound to a set of tracks. The car was parked in the garages at home and taken out on the weekend, the street cars were used to ride to work. Time, as it always does, marched on at a brisk pace. People were using autos more and more to go to and from work and their wages allowed for more people to get a car. I have no idea how much Dad paid for the 1925 Studebaker coupe, a monstrous behemoth which had split-rim wheels, couldn't have been much because Mom and Dad didn't have much to spend. The first new car he got was a 1937 Plymouth sedan, at Leeman Auto, on Sixth and Broadway in Denver. On the installment plan, its price $900. Mom and Dad still didn't have a bunch of ready cash and Leeman's adds were always "No payments while sick or disabled." Dad never did have to try that as he wasn't sick or disabled during the time he was paying for it.

About the time World War Two came along autos were adding to the load of moving people to the detriment of the trolleys. But the Tramway (street car company) was busy all through the war. My own personal opinion was that if the Tramway Co. had advertised that they were goint to obtain more streetcars and extend the lines into new neighborhoods ASAP perhaps people would have kept using them rather than paying to park their cars somewhere during the business day.

Nowadays it seems that people have forgotten how to walk any further than across the room. They drive a car to the spa where they work up a sweat a few times a week. Any further than half a block the car gets fired up to make the trek.

Some men's pride in their car is a fearful thing to behold. It is almost like prostrating themselves before an idol it appears. Some women are as picky about their cars too. It must be immaculate on the inside, and smell sweet too, it must appear to be freshly washed and waxed as well. The inner workings might be shot, butt he dern thing sure looks purdy.

Those vehicles are looked at as if they are living beings almost. After all, we must have our Magin Car-Pets . . . . . . . . .

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