Random memories from yesteryear - Got any?

I took an Alka Seltzer the other day and it brought back a memory of these:

488890247_4107156379571960_4285165662831238580_n.jpg
Wow, I forgot about that one. It's amazing the sugar products that were sold in stores back then and advertised as something good fur you.
 

Sitting at the rear window of Grandparents station wagon on a trip from L.A. to Oklahoma
and making faces at the truck driver behind us and him making them back at me. He had me
hysterically laughing through that boring ride arriving into OK. from Texas in those days.
 
Memories from way back .....

I remember assisting in the development of a 'continuous action' matchbox making machine (outer shell) on the upper floor of this British factory in approximately 1968 just prior to emigrating to Canada in 69. At the time I was working as an electrician for Fife Wilson who I see are still going strong in Bishops Stortford.
The intent was to build a much faster machine than those in use at the time which folded and glued the shells one at a time, the new machine carried the shells through and folded, glued and added striker grit in one continuous movement one behind each other and speeded up the process some 10 fold.

I remember as a young man being amazed, and some what fearful, of the massive match making machine on the ground floor. It consisted of a wide belt (aprox 10' ?) with holes to hold matchsticks every 1/4” or so, the belt travelled in a long zigzag first dipping the heads of the matchsticks in the striker vat and then weaving upwards to allow the head to set before being unloaded at the other end. At the time I was there they were not making safety matches and the floor was strewn with both undipped matchsticks and finished matches.
Walking across them was very scary but it did not seem to bother the regular employes. In fact on occasion a match at the end of the conveyor belt would accidentally strike against something and the entire belt would go off like a gigantic firecracker. The staff would simply exit the (solid concrete) building till it burnt out and then return and carry on! I never saw this happen (and had no wish to be present when it did) but was told about it...........

It most certainly stuck in my memory to resurface so many decades later!
 
I just remembered one. My Virginia grandparents had next-door neighbors, an elderly lady and her 50-ish son named Raymond, who was highly educated and a really interesting person. When we would go visit them, I spent a lot of time (starting when I was about 5 or 6 or so) sitting on the porch with Raymond doing puzzles. He adored me and I adored him.

He was a gentle soul, a good soul and he loved children. Every evening, Raymond and I and his two little Boston Bull Terriers would walk down to the drugstore that had a soda counter and get icecream cones. The dogs each got a scoop on a piece of wax paper on the floor.

I'm trying to think what parents today would let their 5-year-old go off hand-in-hand with a 50-year-old man, but times were different then. As I got older, his health started to fail and we didn't do our walks for ice cream, but we still did puzzles on the porch. I really missed him when he died.
 
Of to Grants, my favorite store, and go down the stairs to their toy room. Oh my gosh, they got just what I want. A set of Roy Rogers cap guns. Beautiful chrome with pearl handles. What a Birthday this is. I will wear these proudly until they are completely worn out.
We had a W.T. Grants about a 5 minute walk from where I grew up! Great store, they had an excellent candy counter.
 
Of to Grants, my favorite store, and go down the stairs to their toy room. Oh my gosh, they got just what I want. A set of Roy Rogers cap guns. Beautiful chrome with pearl handles. What a Birthday this is. I will wear these proudly until they are completely worn out.
You brought back a memory for me, Pappy.

In third grade we exchanged names for Christmas gifts. My mother and I were really excited when I drew the name of the poorest boy in my class because then we could get him something really nice. This was West Virginia, so poor meant living in a shack up a holler and coming to school barefoot and dirty.

We got him the Roy Rogers cap gun:
shopping


He thanked me kindly, but now that I know a little more about the mountain people I went to school with -- I'll bet he already had a real gun and knew how to shoot rabbits and squirrels with it. He probably felt sorry for me.
 


Back
Top