Do you remember...your childhood and how it was in pictures

[hollydolly]

Supermarkets were tiny, and often we'd be sent to do the shopping alone or with our siblings with a note wrapped around the money...and terrified we'd lose it

 

[JonDouglas]

I remember my tin bathtub also being my summer, clothes-optional swimming pool.

Picture was taken by my grandparents during WWII years

 

[Aunt Marg]

When snow boots failed to dry in time and were still damp inside, on went a plastic bread bag over our feet, into the damp boots our feet went, and back out to play we'd go!

Sharing my bedroom with baby siblings and along with sharing my room with them came sharing the responsibilities of their care. Giving them a bottle, changing their diapers, I did it all.

Playing with one of my grandmothers collection of buttons kept in a large glass jar!

How I used to love spilling out the jar and going through the many coloured and fancy buttons.

Using moms Tame Conditioner, was a BIG no-no in our house!

Did I cheat at all? You bet I did! LOL!

I'm old enough to have experienced old-fashioned outhouses! OMG!

Those stinky, eye-watering, strong home perms of the 60's and 70's!

House stunk for days after, and so it seems our house was grand central station when it came to home perms. EVERYONE came to our house to get my mom to perm their hair. Between the smell of cigarettes and the perms, it was enough to make me gag!

As a young child you entered the bonus round when mom had enough spare change on her to plunk into the horsey ride!

 

[Aunt Marg]

Being the oldest of 5, I experienced many grown-up things at an early age that my counterparts didn't.

Helping mom with the washing... old-fashioned wringer washing machine style!

I was chief bread crumb maker! We had a hand-operated grinder identical to this one, and when moms large roaster pan (which sat inside the stove oven compartment) was full of bread crust ends, I'd take pan and grinder downstairs, clamp the grinder to the coffee table in the TV room, and grind away until the pan was empty.

Call me crazy, but I didn't mind the job.

My baby brother had a marble collection that put all other marble collections to shame!

Nearly everyone I knew had a burning barrel in their backyards!

Anyone else remember bubble baths?

Licking the beaters when mom was done mixing something yummy!

Pedal cars! We may have been poor, but we still grew up enjoying pedal-power!

What fun we had!

 

[Aunt Marg]

Going to the circus was special!

Going to the fair was even more special!

Wintertime was such a great season to me when I was young and growing, with tobogganing being my favourite!

I remember how I would count down the days until school got out for Christmas Holidays! We'd play outside until our boots were soaked inside, our waterproof snow pants lost their waterproof, and our mittens and gloves soaked through, then into the house we'd go, hanging up our clothes and things to dry, counting the minutes... the hours until we could don our gear once again and get back outside to play.

There wasn't enough hours in the day.

Making a snowman at the start of the season!

You didn't enjoy or experience childhood to it's fullest until you rolled your own very snowman! We did every year!

 

[Aunt Marg]

Playing tetherball at school and at my cousins house!

All of us siblings would go to work raking and gathering up all of the leaves in the yard forming a big huge pile, and then we'd play/jump in them!

Was that not the best of times or was that not the best of times!

Treehouses, yay!

I was fortunate enough to have a close friend who had one and we even slept the night in it a few times!

Kids today aren't kids at all, and kids today have not the slightest clue how fun it was to be a real kid back in the day!

 

[Aunt Marg]

The annual summer soapbox derby!

Yes, we had one right in our very own neighbourhood, right in front of our house. Neighbourhood kids (boys) would spend weeks and months building a special soapbox racer, then the day would come where all would show with their wooden cars and the race was on!

Witnessed some really scary wipeouts, but all-in-all no one got hurt other than a few minor scrapes, scratches, bumps, and bruises.

 

[wcwbf]

born in 49. i totally identify with that department store in "a christmas story"... even though that movie was set in early 40's.

road trips in dad's green Ford station wagon.

"camping" in pup tent in backyard. best friend had 2 "military" hammocks... you zipped in behind bug netting. it would take maneuvering, but we'd end up inside them with all kinds of snacks & drinks. as soon as comfy... you hadda pee... so we became "bears" of sort.

in summer, we were outside all the time. just hadda come home when street lights came on.

mosquito trucks. my brother and his buddies were often right up in that could.

were by no means rich but dad managed to get us a few weeks "down the shore"... Wildwood, NJ & later Ocean City, NJ. no TVs. on beach in surf all day and long walks on the boardwalk at night. chances of a day or 2 of non-beach days... rain. then dad would take us to Atlantic City and Steel Pier. you hoped rain stopped so you could see the divers, clowns, barking seals and of course the diving horse.

 

[CinnamonSugar]

Great thread

Some of my fave childhood memories....

Lying on my stomach in the shady grass under a tree, reading a book
Putting on flip-flops for the first time each summer (even today, flip-flops make me feel young)
Making up stories with the dolls in my doll collection
Sitting on my Dad's lap and waiting for Walter Cronkite to say, "And that's the way it is..." b/c I knew that meant The Flintstones were coming on next! =)
Riding my bike uptown for a slushy from the convenience store or stopping at the little place that sold Orange Julius
(Very young) Being allowed to attend and dance at my big brothers' and sister's "Twist Parties" on the back porch, complete with chinese lanterns for (probably) about 20 min. before I had to go to bed. Twisting always gave me a stitch in my side but I *was* a bit of a ham, hahaha
Taking dance lessons (tap and ballet)

 

[wcwbf]

until well into my teens, we had "the woods" to play in. a great big hunka land that eventually ended up with a bunch of houses. while it was "the woods" the owner didn't really care what people did as long as nothing permanaet. my dad and a few others would mow the high weeds so we had huge backyards.

 

[Right Now]

We go to this one for breakfast.

View attachment 167016

I am not sure I have been to Hwy 7.

Yes, lots of folks enjoy a breakfast here. The owner, Nancy, recently passed away but the diner and its workers are still thriving. The Trivia night is a few doors down in Cattleman's. I have to say, stick with Trackside for breakfast at decent prices.

 

[horseless carriage]

A very popular pastime from the 40's up to about the 60's was swimming. There were swimming pools in every large town and city. In the summer the open air pools, known as lidos, drew large crowds. The water would be freezing, but when you're young and fit it didn't bother you.

Coca-cola was a new drink, new to the UK that is, brought over and made popular by the GI's stationed here during WW2.
To encourage tidiness and reduce dangerous litter, a deposit of three pence was put on every bottle, redeemable when the empty bottle was returned. The pre-decimal three pence coin, known as the thrupenny bit had twelve sides.

Many a small boy, myself included, could make quite an addition to their pocket money, collecting the discarded bottles and claiming the thrupenny deposit.
Ballrooms were also very common as was partner dancing, many a relationship started in a ballroom. They had names like The Locarno, or where I lived in East London, The Ilford Palais was the place to be. In my wife's area of North London it would have been The Tottenham Royal.

As the fifties gave way to the sixties, these ballrooms were the venues for pop music and the emerging 60's bands that went on to achieve world fame. But back in 1958, a twelve year old saw his very first concert, courtesy of my grandmother who had financed my ticket. It was an American tour and top of the bill was Buddy Holly. How I wished I had kept my program and ticket stub. But others did and they looked like this. It's now being sold on e-bay.

 

[hollydolly]

Ah yes we would choose to go to the Early morning Saturday kids 'pictures' at the cinema one week, or to the indoor swimming pool the next Saturday morning.

On the way to the 'Baths'.. we walked through a park with a lake, where we would sail our home made boats... and on the very odd occasion if we pooled our money together we'd hire a little boat. We got 30 minutes before the whistle blew to call us back in

This is that very park.. I'm not in this picture, but I was 10 when this picture was taken so it could very well have been me...

 

[Gary O']

we had "the woods" to play in

Gotta have 'the woods'

Gotta

Guess I'll post something I've posted here waaaaay too many times

But this thread (a lovely one, BTW) is asking for it;

Recollections

this became rather lengthy....

Ever so often, I'd drive up to the ol' place for, well, old time's sake.
I always enjoyed the rush of memories, driving the old lane, and around the corner, up the hill onto the flat where most the kid population was, and where gramma's house, my 2nd home, crowned the hill.
Our place and gramma's place was one property, adjoined by five or so acres of strawberry patch, making the patch a short cut between houses.

Not long ago I hired a new engineer, he was a whip.
Ate up everything I could hand him.
Became our I.T.
Made tedious, complex projects his fun little game.
Interfaced quite well with our clients.
We became friends, even though he was in his late 20's, and I in my mid 50's.
Come to find out, his dad lived at and owned the property out there in the hills of Scappoose.
I had to make the trip one more time.

Our little converted broom factory house was ready for razing. The doors were off, the garage my dad and grandpa built (with a hand saw and hammer) were gone.
We stopped. I boosted myself thru the doorless, and stepless porch entry, the closed in porch was our laundry room.
Wringer washer, clothes line, wicker baskets, sweet smells of Fels-Naptha, my place to take off my day's clothes and grab the tub off the wall.
Rooms, once huge, were now so tiny.

The kitchen, remodeled with the rest of the house, still had the red fire alarm above the sink.
Dad would proudly demonstrate to friends how loud it was, putting a glass of hot water up near it.
The wood cook stove was gone, but the pipe coming outta the ceiling, with the ornate metal ring, bore testament of many a meal.
Meals I learned to prepare, taking a few times to learn how to not break an egg yolk, how to get pancakes to turn out like mom's and gramma's, snacks dad showed how he ate when young, tater slices scorched on the cook top, then lightly salted. Tasted horrible, but really good, cookin' with Dad, good.
The table was gone of course. The curvy steel legged one that replaced the solid wood one, well not so solid, as we lost a meal or two due to the one wobbly leg. But that steel one with the gray Formica (?) top was up town.
There I'd sit, waiting out the meal, spreadin' my peas around to make it look like I ate some.
'If you don't at least take a bite of your peas you won't get any cake!'
Eventually, I'd be sittin' at the table alone, studying the gray swirly pattern of the table top, malnourished head propped up on my arm.
Dad, Mom, and sis would be in the living room watchin' Howdy Doody on the Hoffman, or something just as wonderful.
Eventually, I ate cake...then did the dishes.

One Sunday morning I sat at an empty table, but for a glass of milk and the One-a-Day pill bottle. Dad and Mom were exasperated... 'Your throat is this big, the pill is this big'..minutes-hours passed, shadows on the table shortened...'OK, just drink your milk'
I drained the glass between pursed lips.
The little brown pill remained at the bottom.
Nice try, parents from satan.

We had a lot of beans, navy, pinto, brown.
Beans on bread was quite regular. Got to like'n it..not much choice really.
Had chocolate cake with white icing for dessert. No dessert plates. Cake just plopped on the bean juice.
To this day, I still have a craving for cake soaked in bean juice.

The house was designed so's I could ride my trike around and around, kitchen, living, bed, bath, bed rooms.
They were my Daytona, straight away was the bed, bath and bed rooms.
We had large windows in the front corners of the house from the remodel, 'so we can look out, for godsake'.
Now we could watch log trucks barrelin' down Pisgah Home Rd, and my sis and I could have a bird's eye vantage from the kitchen when Dad backed the Bel Air outta the garage over three of the four kittens puss had had weeks earlier under the porch.
Took my sis quite awhile to get over that, as she'd just named 'em a few hours earlier. I was just enamored with the scene; romp-play-mew-look up-smat.
Dad didn't know until he got home.
Actually, it saved him an' I a trip, as when he thought we had too many cats around, we'd toss a bunch into a gunny sack and once down the road, hurl 'em out the window of our speeding chevy.
I haven't maintained the sack-o-cats legacy, but there have been times....

The living room still had the oil stove that warmed us...in the living room.
A flash of memory recalled the two end tables and lamps, aerodynamic, tables sharp, cutcha, lamps with flying saucer shapes, one had butterfly like images formed into its material, and when lit, enhanced their appearance.
A sectional couch, we were up town.
Before the sectional, we had one that kinda placed you in the middle, no matter where you started. It was my favorite, as sis and I spent many a day on it when sick.
Mom would lay out the sheets and blankets, administering doses of tea, crackers, and toast, peaches if we felt up to it.
Waste basket stationed at the tail end of that couch, since we were in such a weakened state we could never make it to the bathroom.
Mom loved it, our own personal Mother Teresa.
Yeah, we milked it for days...school work piling up.
Recovery would finally occur once bed sores emerged.
When we were actually sick, Doctor Day would visit. Fascinating, black bag, weird tools, gauzes, pill bottles, the smell of disinfectant and tobacco. Then the shot.
It was all almost worth it.

Asian flu was a bit serious, but chicken pox was horrific for me.
It was Christmas, fever, pox forming.
Presents! Guns! Six shooters!...only there was this pock right on my trigger finger. It was like free ham for a practicing orthodox Jew.


Dad, always the entrepreneur, would use the living room as the media center, inviting salesmen with projectors and actual reel to reel set ups, showing us how to become a thousandaire overnight.
Nutri-bio was one, to take the place of one-a-days I guess.
The Chinchilla movie was fascinating, and we even took a trip to a guy's garage to see how they were raised. Turns out they need an even controlled temp to get a good coat, and actually keep 'em alive.
The Geiger counter became something to show company, and become an antique.
Dad and Mom's bedroom held few memories for me except for the time Mom found a nest of baby mice in the bottom dresser drawer...and a hammer.
There was that other brief time, but seems we were all pretty shocked.
My bedroom was actually our bedroom, sis and me.
After the remodel, we got twin beds, new ones.
Recall my first migraine in my new bed, pressing my head into the pillow. Teddy no consolation, but then I didn't really give it an honest try to fix his dented plastic nose either.
Dad was the bedtime story teller, Goldie/bears, red/the wolf, pigs/wolf..pretty standard stuff....but did the job.
Had a framed picture of a collie baying over a lamb in a snow storm hanging over my bed. It hangs over my light stand table today, found in some of my mother's stuff.

The yard was not spectacular, but when sequestered from the woods, was plenty for me. I'd play in the dirt. Mom, in her no-remote-thought-of-divorce-happiest-I'll-ever-be-but-don't-know-it days, would be cleaning the house, wiping something on the windows that would become a swirly fog, then wiping that off. Cleaning the floor was sweep, mop, wax. Linoleum was the rage.
Lunch would be a great, but simple sandwich, with lettuce, and soup.

The icebox held short stemmed dessert glasses of homemade chocolate pudding, each centered with a half maraschino cherry. For the longest time I thought cherries came that way straight from the tree.
Cross over the Bridge, or Sunny Side of the Street played on the radio. Then it was a Paul Harvey segment.



Nobody close died, there were no wars I was aware of, and folks were generally at ease during that eight year era of fond memories, just fragrant recollections.


This aging cynic, years of crust giving way to a soft spot, down deep, had a hard moment of holding back visual emotion, as we drove away from the last tangible vision ever to be seen of the house of a sweet early life.


Then this one (sorry);


I’ll Never Forget My First Friend

I was three.
He was a few months.
Neither of us had much to play with….but each other.
We never lacked.
He’d look up at me with complete unwavering trust.
Trying to read my face.
Ears perked up when I spoke.
Wherever I went, he followed.
He rapidly grew, and soon we were face high to each other.
We’d roam the patch of woods up the hill from our place, him guarding my every step, sometimes blocking my way when I got too close to the cliff edge. I didn’t know it at the time.
I’d take my naps nestled into his chest.
He’d lie there, never moving a muscle.

As I grew to boyhood, he remained a part of me, my shadow.
We’d wrestle….he’d let me win.

We’d hunt.

We’d fish.

Not that he took part.
He was no hunting dog.
Just my companion.
We’d share lunch.
He’d listen to my every word, as we sat on the creek bank.

Years passed.
I got very busy, but not so busy that we wouldn’t still roam the woods every so often, even though he had a bit of a time keeping up.

The day came when he just didn’t get up.
I was sixteen.
Mom told me to take him in to the vet.
‘He’ll be able to fix him up.’

I gathered him up and laid him in the passenger’s seat of the pickup, right beside me, and we had one of our conversations while I drove the twenty miles.
It had been awhile.
Too long actually.


I sat on the stool beside the exam table, while the vet did his thing.
Once again my best friend and I were face high to each other.
The vet was talking with my mom.
He handed me the phone.
It was time.
He had to be put to sleep.

OK, I brought him in to get fixed up, and now he’s going to be put down….just like that.

I was told I had to leave the room.

Can't.

The vet did…..something. I don’t recall.

I held my best friend’s face with both hands.


His ears perked up as we had what would be our last conversation, telling him the reality.
Then I just cradled his head, holding it to my chest, not moving a muscle until, feeling his last breath against my heart, he went to sleep.

Even though the wipers were going, I had a hard time seeing through the rain drops on the way back home.







……..I’ll never forget my first friend

 

[horseless carriage]

Well Gary, that was some tale, it came across as somewhat cathartic for you to post, I'm so glad you did. Those of us lucky enough to have a pet when we were young, especially a companion like a dog, also had to experience bereavement, it's a crushing heartache like no other.

Your eloquent piece is something we must all experience and you have somehow managed to describe the passing of a loyal loving friend, whilst at the same time, reminisce all the joyful happy times in frolics and fun. Thank you for that. Those of us who have shared that experience knew what to expect when grandma died, or some other dear loved one. It didn't make it easier of course, but knowing the transition from from the raw pain to the dull ache enables us to deal with it just that tad bit better.

 

[StarSong]

I spent my early years in a small town with plenty of woods to play in, a K-12 school very nearby with swings, walkways, tennis courts, baseball fields, and other great places to play on weekends and summertimes. Neighbors were watchful but not overly so. No gates, locks or fences on school properties back then.

High schoolers used to buy Coca-Cola for a dime at the local gas station's vending machine, plus 2 cents bottle deposit if they didn't consume it on the gas station property. On weekends my siblings and friends would hunt the school's outer edges for discarded bottles, bring them to the gas station for that precious loot, then hit the general store for penny candy!

Kids knew to come in when it got dark or playmates' parents rang a bell, whistled, or sent out their family "come home" signal. Otherwise, from about age 7, we knew how far we could wander and then were mostly left to entertain ourselves during daylight hours.

Heaven help the snitches, crybabies, selfish kids, and poor sports. Most didn't have to learn playground rules too many times...

 

[Aunt Marg]

I was the only kid on the block that owned a pair of Super Slider Snow Skates, and what fun they were!

We used to tow one another around behind a bicycle!

Neighbours had a Flying Snow Saucer, and thinking back on it now, I can't believe we survived with all our teeth being that it was fashioned out of aluminum!

You couldn't steer it and always got into a spin! You just hung on for dear life!

Anyone else remember Crazy Carpets?

Boy, did they ever go like the dickens! We all had one!

 

[Aunt Marg]

Was I the only kid here that loved to plane my hand outside the window of a moving car?

I remember mom and dad getting cross with us kids when we'd do it in town where traffic was heavy.

"You're going to get your arm torn off"! We had a short memory span...

 

[timoc]

I didn't care much for the meeting place for courting couples.

 

[Aunt Marg]

Was just giving thought to the hand out the window thing we used to do, and remembered the fun we had when sticking one of these out the car window!

I haven't seen one of these toy wind turbines in ages!

 

[Aunt Marg]

Saturday morning cartoons!

Who didn't live this!

Assembling in the living room bright and early Saturday mornings to catch cartoons on our old console TV!

On weekends mom and dad would try and sleep-in, and so being the oldest I would do the mommy thing and rouse the older ones from their beds, change the little ones and get them up from their cribs, see to it that all were settled on the living room floor, and do the channel selecting for everyone.

 

[jujube]

Was just giving thought to the hand out the window thing we used to do, and remembered the fun we had when sticking one of these out the car window!

I haven't seen one of these toy wind turbines in ages!

Oh, I remember those! We called them whirlygigs. They were fairly cheap, so we could wheedle one out of the adults on a regular basis.

 

[Pinky]

Oh, I remember those! We called them whirlygigs. They were fairly cheap, so we could wheedle one out of the adults on a regular basis.

I think we called them Pinwheels. Lots of fun running with them.
They're actually very easy to make.

 

[Aunt Marg]

Oh, I remember those! We called them whirlygigs. They were fairly cheap, so we could wheedle one out of the adults on a regular basis.

Gosh, JJ, I couldn't think of the name of them this morning for the life of me, but yes, I think that's what I remember them being called.

With baby siblings in the home I remember there always being one or two around.

 

[Aunt Marg]

Did anyone bowl as kids?

We didn't have a lot of money so didn't go often when I was younger, but when I started babysitting and making my own money, I went a lot more.

A bottle of Coca-Cola, a Mr. Big chocolate bar, and I was set to throw gutter balls galore!