A day in the life...1956..travels with my aunt

Karen99

Karen99

Senior Member
Location
California
I was responding to another thread about St. Vincent De Paul thrift shop. It took me back in time to recall this. My aunt took care of me very often as my mom worked. My favorite thing was a trip to town on the bus. Indulge me and follow along if you like. She would dress up in a pretty dress and wear her treasured silver charm bracelet..which I always admired. She and I walked hand in hand to the bus stop.maybe two blocks away. I can still see the heavy leather seats..some a little ripped. I was like 5 or 6 years old.

We dined at the Kress's hot dog counter and then we were off to bargain hunt. My aunt was a very thrifty homemaker as her husband was a carpenter and not always working. We did our rounds at Salvation Army (my cousins called it "the Sally ) and St. Vincent De Paul and others. She bought all my cousin's clothes there. The most fun was when she took me to a fancy millinery shop and tried on hats!

I loved helping her find things and after a busy day of shopping, we'd board the bus and return home. My aunt lived in front of the railroad tracks..which was a great adventure. They would go by so slow and I'd run ouside and wave at them. If I stayed the night the trains went by so fast the house would shake.

She had a steady stream of hobos stop at the front door, and somehow my aunt had an endless pot of her good soup or stew on the stove and huge loaves of bread..from the day old bakery of course. They would come to the door and ask politely for food. My aunt would call me to the kitchen..and I'd run back to the door with a bowl of soup and two slices of bread..and a glass of Kool-Aid.

i view this through the eyes of the child I was. i am thankful I knew her..she was gone too soon. I was 11 when she passed..she was only 43.

If you have a day in your life you'd enjoy sharing..please do.
 

That's a nice story, Karen.

Reminds me of shopping trips with my mom when I was about that age. We lived in the suburbs of a large city, before the days of shopping centers. Maybe 2 or 3 times a year we be dropped off downtown and take the bus home to a stop near my grandmother's house, and then picked up by my dad.

We went only on days there were big sales at the major department stores. Back then the inexpensive stuff was kept in the basement. That's where we always headed. You were exhausted by the end of the day, lugging shopping bags of stuff around everywhere. We ate at Scott's lunch counter (similar to Woolworth). This was big stuff to me, because we never ate out---too expensive.

Like you said, only things that would interest a child do I remember.

Did you ever go to town and see Christmas decorations in the windows of the stores?
 
Thanks for sharing your memories. it was so much fun going downtown...until...like you say..all the huge shopping malls opened up and forever changed things. I remember the gorgeous, huge bank which looked like a fortress...the ornate movie theaters with kids lined up around the block on Saturdays for the double feature :). Real baby boomer stuff I guess. Oh yes, all the best bargains were in the basement..
 
Did you ever go to town and see Christmas decorations in the windows of the stores?
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yes! My brother and I got so excited when they put up the city decorations...tinsel and bells and whatever...strung across the streets..and decorations on the lamp posts. The big highlight was a furniture store that had a moving Christmas scene in the window...which changed every year. :)
 
Thanks for the stories ladies, I love to hear them too and can relate because my oldest sister, who passed at 42 from cancer, used to take me when I was little and her young sons strolling along the avenue, mostly window shopping, and she'd always get something like a potato knish from the street vendor, and me being a picky eater would usually get something like an ice cream sandwich from Woolworths.

My day in the life is around 1958 and I was around five years old. My mother used to take me once in awhile on a bus ride to visit my aunt. My aunt had a tiny grocery store, very small and basic, no produce or anything that I recall, mostly canned goods, breads, etc. My aunt was a sweet lady, quiet and always a friendly smile on her face, heart of gold.

Once we got off the bus in her neighborhood, we passed a nice bakery and my mom would always get me a Charlotte Russe dessert to eat at my aunt's place. It was a small individual serving sponge cake, round in shape and cradled by thick pretty white cardboard, and covered in whipped cream and topped with a Maraschino cherry. I loved them and rarely got such treats, sometimes my mother had to help me finish it, which she didn't mind at all.

The store was small and kind of darkish in appearance. The floors were old grey wood and would creak a bit in areas when adults walked on them. We always went on weekdays, and business was slow, maybe one or two people would come while we were there at the most. They'd quickly pick up a loaf of bread or a couple of cans of something, exchange pleasantries with my aunt, and be on their way.

I always liked being there. I would go outside and sit on the small wooden step and enjoy my special treat. Then I'd just quietly walk around the inside of the store and look at things, while my mother and my aunt chatted about family and other stuff.

Always in the store was my aunt's cat. He was a well-fed older grey cat and mostly just peacefully lied there on his special wooden shelf in the middle of the store, watching the passersby through the window and the activities inside the store. Even with the door open in summer, I never saw the cat go outside.

We didn't have a cat or dog when I was a child, as we lived in an apartment and it wouldn't have been convenient, plus others in my family weren't really interested in having a pet other than the occasional gold fish and baby turtles for my older brother. So, since I wasn't around them much, except for a little aggressive chihuahua who lived in the apartments, I was kinda scared of dogs and cats.

My aunt's cat was different, very mellow and lay back. I would wait for a pause in their conversation, and ask my aunt permission to pet her cat. She always said yes, of course, he likes when you visit him and looks forward to it. My mother always taught me to ask before I did anything in anyone else's home, etc.

I would walk over to the cat, who was around my chest level at the time, and approach carefully and slowly. He'd look at me, not get up, just wait for me to pet him. When I gently started to pet the cat, he would close his eyes and very quietly purr, and that kitty would have my attention for a long time. Once I was comfortable with him again, I loved interacting with the wise old feline.

I was always a little sad to go back home again, but I did enjoy spending time with my mother and riding on the bus. Nice little days there etched in this old memory of mine, would be nice to even dream about a day like that now.
 
How cozy being in your Aunt's little store...and what an amazing cat she had...obviously well loved. I agree, a day like that is one we would dream about now.... I totally enjoyed your memoir, SeaBreeze.
 
We used to rent a little bungalow near the beach in the summertime, to get out of the city. My father bought an old wooden sailboat (minus the sails), painted it, fiberglassed the bottom and bought a reliable motor for it so we could all go fishing together. The boat was seaworthy to be sure, very broad in the beam, and he named it SeaBreeze...hence my user name.

He was always happy to take me, my mother, my brother and my sisters out and show us a good time, his positive energy and happy spirit touched all of us in a special way. We always caught a lot of fish. He baited my hook and took off my fish for me, so my hands wouldn't have to get stinky. ​ After cleaning all the fish, he gave the excess to our elderly neighbors, who always enjoyed a fresh fish dinner. I always liked to watch him feed the seagulls when he was cleaning the fish.

When weather was rough, and the seas were choppy, usually late in the afternoon on the way back home, he'd make me go under the poop deck for safety. Ahh, good times to be sure. Would be nice to re-live it just for one day. When we got back home, we all took a cold shower, no hot water in that little bungalow, and my mother made us a nice fish supper with a lot of TLC. :love_heart:

Afterward, I'd sit on my father's knee outside while he smoked a White Owl cigar to keep away the gnats, I loved the smell of those cigars and loved my Dad dearly. :sentimental:
 
The year was 1955 and it was Christmas Eve. I was 5 years old and my brother was almost 7. The tree glowed magically in the living room..and we were all sitting at the table in the little kitchen eating dinner. I think now how young they were. My mom was 24 and my dad 30. My dad was a WW2 vet and worked long hours in a paper factory. My mom worked for Sears in the warehouse marking the prices on items.

After I was born, my parents bought a new house on the GI bill. It was just a simple "California Modern" with a flat top and a single car garage...but it was all theirs...and paying $75 plus all the new furniture and a new car kept them both working. We had a blonde tv..a little thing on a high stand that swiveled. My brother and I would lay in front of it Saturday mornings and watch Howdy Doody, Sky King ,Rocky and Bullwinkle. I remember the large fish bowl with two pretty gold fish swimming in a circle. Our fat tabby cat loved to watch them..his head moving in a circle right with them..haha.

i was old enough to understand about Santa and had been to see him. " you better not cry..Santy Claus is coming to town" was on the radio. I was trying to be good and whatever else that song advised. All I could think of was how Santa Claus was coming to my house tonight. I was startled out of my 5 year old reverie by the pounding on the door and some sounds from a loudspeaker outside. "Evacuate. Leave."

It it all happened pretty fast after that. We were whisked across town to my Aunt and Uncle's house. I had no idea what was going on really. The worst part to me was not being home Christmas Eve. Santa would not know where to find me. My parents just told me we were going to a nice hotel downtown the next day for Christmas. I was very alarmed to see our cat at my Aunt's house and also the goldfish. My heart just sank and my 5 year old mind had no room for a disaster this Christmas.

The hotel was a massive old thing and the halls were dark looking. I hated that monstrosity. Everything about it scared me. I do remember crying in my daddy's arms..overwhelmed at this terrible turn of events. He told me we were all going to have an adventure. I didn't want an adventure. I wanted my own bedroom. I wanted to stand on my bed and peep out the window and wave at my best friend Carol..whose bedroom window faced mine. I knew how to open those Venetian blinds. I had planned on peeping at Santa.

i remember we ate sandwiches and potato salad in that awful hotel room. The day was foggy and cold. Santa Claus never came, I wasn't home and the cat and goldfish weren't home. Somehow I fell asleep...just the resigned sleep of a child in the face of events beyond my control.

I woke up in a dark room. I could hear my parents whispering in the next room, and my brother's voice. It occurred to me I was alone in there. I called out for my dad..and cried my "scaredy cat" tears, knowing how my brother would tease me. "You're such a baby".. I guess I was. "You better not cry, I'm tellin you why". And here I was crying. The light switched on and my dad's voice boomed out at me.."Come on, Sis..." I bolted to the other room. My eyes took it in immediately... Wrapped gifts and a big Christmas Stocking made of red net..like the ones at Woolworth's with toys and candy.

I saw my brother was already playing with Lincoln Logs and there was a Roy Rogers hat and vest and I saw boxes of chocolate covered cherries and the Hard Christmas candy my mom loved..ribbons of color and little filled ones. I was stunned. My dad explained Santa left this stuff at my aunt's house for us...because our house was flooded...but it would all be fixed...don't worry.

Relief washed over me. Santa Claus rememembered. I clutched that Christmas stocking and inspected everything in it...delighted beyond words. That old building was imposing but my child's heart was content that our house was going to be fixed. My brother gave me one of his looks.."Cry baby! Scaredy cat!" Oh well, never mind..he let me play with his Lincoln Logs and Tinker toys...plus I got a cowgirl hat, vest and skirt with fringe just like Dale Evans.
 
I have to add a little footnote to my story...which is all true. Our presents were in the trunk of my parents car.. We really were evacuated Christmas Eve..the levies broke..water was more than waist deep and my dad went back in a boat. Another thing that I remember is that my brother had a duck and my dad found it swimming around the house..lol. My mom has pictures of this somewhere.

Also, Red Cross helped us out with things and all the others affected. We had to stay in that hotel and eat downtown for a few weeks. This is one of my best Christmas memories. I'm happy to share it post Christmas. :).

Happy New Year!
 
NancyNGA said:
Enjoyed your story Karen. Thanks for posting it.
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Thanks Nancy..writing it really took me back. I don't know why it was on my mind this morning. It's almost like looking through a window..these old memories and suddenly being transported to that place in time.
 
Karen, thanks for sharing your story. I'd be a scaredy cat too at that age not knowing what was really happening. So nice that you had a happy ending there, I was worried at the start. Santa remembered his little cowgirl. :love_heart:
 
Hey Karen99 -- reading your story reminded me -- when I was a little bitty kid in California, probably about 1950, we got evacuated, too -- it was a forest fire. We lived in a pretty rural area. I have a very vivid memory of me and my sister being unceremoniously put into the car in the middle of the night, in our jammies (you NEVER left the house in your jammies!!) and my dad kept saying hurry, and then going way faster than usual down the road and the trees around being on fire. I don't remember where we went, or when we came back, it's just like a snapshot of a memory. Funny how some things stick in your mind, out of context. I guess it was because everything was so very odd -- the jammies and the hurrying, and the trees being on fire. I do remember that the fire missed our house, though.
 

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