BLESS ME FATHER... For I have sinned

When I reflect on my early years I think of a wholesome and happy time, long before Little League and all of the formalized activities of today. Certainly there was no such thing as a "soccer mom.” Sometimes, in a reflective mood, I think my kids and grandchildren are missing out. They will never know about making their own kites out of yesterday’s newspaper. Indeed, they will not know the thrill of flying a kite, one that you made yourself. They will never wander down to the "corner" and just hang out until a couple other kids show up, talk, shoot marbles, or argue about what to do next, who is the best big league player, or who is the best "good guy" in the cowboy movies. * * * Halloween was a special holiday. We never had store bought costumes. We simply used our imaginations and dressed up, usually presenting ourselves as hobos. We walked all over town and came home several times to review our loot. Gingersnap cookies, oranges, and apples were always in abundance. I’m sure cost dictated treats. Mrs. Shinn operated a restaurant on the corner and was the exception. She usually gave out pennies. More than once she told me, “Jimmy Woolam you have already been here.” I kept trying. Another major holiday was “Decoration Day.” Today we know it as Memorial Day, celebrated on the last Monday of May. Decoration Day was celebrated on May 30. The holiday honored the veterans who served and died for our country. The custom was to take flowers to the cemetery, and decorate not only the graves of those that lost their lives, but the graves of other family members as well. Red geraniums were the traditional flower of choice. The town held a major parade down the two main streets – Scott and Pavilion. Everyone in town watched. All of the kids from the Carroll Street School marched. We wore all white clothes and a red or blue crepe paper cape; red for boy’s and blue for girls. As we sweat the color bled into our white shirts. Each of us carried a small American flag and some kids decorated their bicycle with red, white, and blue crepe paper. We were proud to be included in this special day. Part of the Decoration Day tradition was to whitewash your curb and the trunk of the trees along the street as a way to freshen up the neighborhood and mark the beginning of summer. As a kid I would go around the neighborhood and try to get some work. The competition was very intense so you had to be out on the street bright and early. After some negotiation the women would usually offer you ten or fifteen cents. The truth is there was little “negotiation.” You told the women what you wanted to charge, and she told you what she would give you. Negotiations over. I usually ended up with as much whitewash on me as I got on the curbs and trees. Sunday evening was always a special time. My sister, father, and I went to Hershey’s, the local ice cream parlor, bought a pint of ice cream, walked home, and settled in for a night of radio. My father tuned in the floor model Emerson. My sister and I sat on the floor, ate our ice cream, and listened to Amos''n Andy, Fibber McGee and Molly, and Jack Benny. I loved radio. It required you to use your mind’s eye to visualize what was happening. I still prefer listening to a baseball game on the radio rather than watching it on TV. With someone like Vin Scully calling a game and painting a picture with words, I visualize the action unfold.