July 24, 2015 By Guest Blogger
Summertime is such a lovely time of year. There is so much movement going on….children’s voices, dogs barking, leaves swishing in the breeze, and lawnmowers humming. People were running hither and yon to activities. The summers of my youth were much different.
Our mornings were filled with daily chores and decisions about what mother would prepare for dinner. Afternoons greeted my friends and me as we ran through sprinklers, walked to the neighborhood store for a five cent Popsicle, played house under shady apple trees, engaged in a baseball game in the nearest vacant lot, or read . . .
Summertime is such a lovely time of year. There is so much movement going on….children’s voices, dogs barking, leaves swishing in the breeze, and lawnmowers humming. People were running hither and yon to activities. The summers of my youth were much different.
Our mornings were filled with daily chores and decisions about what mother would prepare for dinner. Afternoons greeted my friends and me as we ran through sprinklers, walked to the neighborhood store for a five cent Popsicle, played house under shady apple trees, engaged in a baseball game in the nearest vacant lot, or read . . .
Memories of Days Long Gone
a book in the basement where it was cool. In the evening, our sweaty hands and faces were washed as our family gathered around the dinner table to enjoy an organized meal. After “cleanup”, we gathered with friends for games of Mother May I, croquet, hide and seek or other such entertainment.
Neighborhood men gathered in a central location to discuss the happenings of the day, the news they had heard on the radio, or how they might help a neighbor improving his home. My grandfather helped install many cement driveways in his leisure time, but he never had a cement driveway of his own until he was in his seventies.
Neighborhood men gathered in a central location to discuss the happenings of the day, the news they had heard on the radio, or how they might help a neighbor improving his home. My grandfather helped install many cement driveways in his leisure time, but he never had a cement driveway of his own until he was in his seventies.
Ladies in the neighborhood would gather, sitting on metal lawn chairs under the shade of fruit trees. They wore house dresses covered with the chosen apron of the day, nylon hose held up with garters, and a smile on their face for accomplishing the tasks of the day. What did they discuss? They talked about their children, how their gardens were growing, who could give someone a Richard Hudnut permanent wave, and why they thought it was foolish for women to learn to drive when the bus was so convenient.
This story was written and submitted by Annette Hemsley.
My grandma never did learn to drive. I spent summers with her. That’s how I know all this stuff! Most of the women would take the bus to town. The bus token was a dime and kids rode free. First on the agenda was to pay the mortgage payment, all the utilities at each building, and then go to Woolworth’s. Woolworth’s was a five and dime store where you could pick up just about anything that wasn’t at the corner grocery store. The best thing about Woolworth’s was the lunch counter. You could get the best club sandwich and cherry Ironport soda for thirty five cents.
After we returned home from our trip to town, grandma fixed dinner. We ate as soon as grandpa got home and emptied out his metal lunch bucket. Sometimes after cleanup, my grandpa would settle himself on the couch to listen to a baseball game or a boxing match. That really bugged my grandma, so she would suggest that she and I get on that great bus and go to the Dairy Queen for a sundae. We had to transfer buses to get there as it was about three miles away. We couldn’t just have any sundae; it had to be grandma’s favorite, which was the Honeymoon Sundae. It was a mound of vanilla soft ice cream topped with marshmallow crème, pineapple, and diced maraschino cherries. She was in heaven, and so was I!
Oh, summertime in days of old, please return to me!
Take a few minutes and begin writing some of the memories of your own “Good Old Days.” Write them so that future family members to enjoy learning more about what life was like for you. After you’ve written some of your memories, add them to your personal page in FamilySearch.org. You can earn how to do that by watching a video titled FamilySearch Memories. It’s easy and a great way to protect and preserve the memories of your life for future generations to enjoy.
After we returned home from our trip to town, grandma fixed dinner. We ate as soon as grandpa got home and emptied out his metal lunch bucket. Sometimes after cleanup, my grandpa would settle himself on the couch to listen to a baseball game or a boxing match. That really bugged my grandma, so she would suggest that she and I get on that great bus and go to the Dairy Queen for a sundae. We had to transfer buses to get there as it was about three miles away. We couldn’t just have any sundae; it had to be grandma’s favorite, which was the Honeymoon Sundae. It was a mound of vanilla soft ice cream topped with marshmallow crème, pineapple, and diced maraschino cherries. She was in heaven, and so was I!
Oh, summertime in days of old, please return to me!
Take a few minutes and begin writing some of the memories of your own “Good Old Days.” Write them so that future family members to enjoy learning more about what life was like for you. After you’ve written some of your memories, add them to your personal page in FamilySearch.org. You can earn how to do that by watching a video titled FamilySearch Memories. It’s easy and a great way to protect and preserve the memories of your life for future generations to enjoy.