As kids our generation was tough!

[Colleen]

I was born in 1946 and grew up in Michigan. We had a vacant lot kitty corner from our house that the fire department use to come and flood it every winter and put up a warming shed. My dad and I went ice skating a lot. My parents took me and some of my cousins in the winter to a resort called Silver Valley where we could taboggan and skate and ski and there was a wonderful horse drawn sleigh that took us for rides. We lived a couple blocks from Lake Huron so summers were spent at the beach. There was an amusement park there and we had picnics. We had many piers to go (perch) fishing from and, of course, there was boating. There were many marinas and almost everyone had a boat. It was great time to grow up. We had a real uptown with lots of stores to shop at.

I think it's true that as you get older you think about the past and it's certainly true in my case. I didn't realize what a great time it really was. We never had to worry about being abducted while riding your bike. Church was a Sunday ritual where the women dressed in dresses and the men wore suits. Life was slower paced and simpler. "If I could turn back time....."

 

[Aunt Marg]

I was born in 1946 and grew up in Michigan. We had a vacant lot kitty corner from our house that the fire department use to come and flood it every winter and put up a warming shed. My dad and I went ice skating a lot. My parents took me and some of my cousins in the winter to a resort called Silver Valley where we could taboggan and skate and ski and there was a wonderful horse drawn sleigh that took us for rides. We lived a couple blocks from Lake Huron so summers were spent at the beach. There was an amusement park there and we had picnics. We had many piers to go (perch) fishing from and, of course, there was boating. There were many marinas and almost everyone had a boat. It was great time to grow up. We had a real uptown with lots of stores to shop at.

I think it's true that as you get older you think about the past and it's certainly true in my case. I didn't realize what a great time it really was. We never had to worry about being abducted while riding your bike. Church was a Sunday ritual where the women dressed in dresses and the men wore suits. Life was slower paced and simpler. "If I could turn back time....."

Wonderful memories!

For years the guys at the fire hall would flood a portion of their parking lot for the kids to skate on, and the city still floods a local park turning the grounds into one big giant skating rink. What could be any better than skating outdoors and skating anytime you want, no time frames, no hours, no special days, just, whenever.

I was thinking about you mentioning "uptown", and how in my old childhood neighbourhood we referred to town as "downtown", because we travelled down hills to get there, but when we moved a few years later we were down from town so we'd say "uptown". Brings back great memories.

I still enjoy the sound of church bells ringing on Sunday mornings, because it reminds me of my childhood. We lived 3 blocks from the church we attended occasionally, and the bells were always clear as ever. Such warmness attached to those early memories, a warmness that today doesn't touch.

Some of the best adventures we went on as kids, was visiting the creek bed which started just one block from our house. It ran through the yards of all the residential areas and went for blocks and blocks, and being that it was at a much lower grade than the land, no one ever knew we were there, and it passed under to two streets which made navigating the creek a lot of fun.

Sometimes we'd pack a lunch and sit with our feet in the trickling water while eating a sandwich, and the water was never deep, just a few inches, so it made for a relatively safe place for young and growing minds to explore. We'd spend hours walking it and sitting on a rock just enjoying taking in the peace, the quiet, and the cool.

There was a hint of magic attached to my childhood years that words cannot describe, you truly had to live it, sleep it, and eat it. Kids today wouldn't even begin to understand. Whenever I reflect upon my childhood I feel so blessed that I got to enjoy living as a kid in the era I did.

I'm totally with you, Colleen, if I could turn back time.

 

[Aunt Marg]

We lived in Northern Idaho until I was nine. We were snowed in multiple times. Those were the days when the basement was full of home canned goods and the coal bin was filled to the brim.

Sometimes it takes me a bit to remember certain things about long-lost childhood memories, but your mention of the coal bin, Pecos, reminded me of one of my friends houses, where they had a small, all concrete room in the basement, and on the outside of their house was an iron door, but a big door, just large enough to allow for cut firewood to pass through it.

Anyhow, I remember my friends dad would toss the cut firewood in through the iron door, the firewood landing on the concrete floor of the wood room, and my friend and I would help stack it for him.

Always thought having such a room for firewood was one of the neatest things ever.

 

[Ruby Rose]

Just finished posting a reply on an older thread topic related to summer heat and how we coped as kids... found here

https://www.seniorforums.com/threads/summer-days-prior-to-air-conditioning.43653/page-2#post-1768958

Anyhow, the wonderful topic got me to thinking about other kid related things specific to weather, and so here it is.

Aside from summers being hot, winters here in Canada were never, and have never been for sissies, and sissies we weren't. Our winter gear... jackets, waterproof snow pants, mitts and gloves, and the insides of our boots would be soaked, and it was all my mom could do was convince us to wait until our winter stuff dried enough before we headed back outside to build snow forts, snowmen, have snowball fights, toboggan, and just have fun.

Kids today wouldn't have the slightest what we lived through, but one such memory I have that dates back to when I was a young child, was having plastic bread bags pulled over my feet before putting on my winter boots, because the insides of my boots would still be damp, sometimes wet, but play was all that was on my mind, so out came a couple of plastic bread bags, my feet were bagged, boots followed, and out I went! Baby siblings and neighbourhood kids all got the same treatment. No slowing us down.

Unlike today, we walked to a from school, uphill both ways. Rain, sunshine, snow, sleet, fog, we weathered whatever Mother Nature could throw at us, and we conquered. I remember some days being so cold where we walked to school backwards with hoods pulled over our toque topped heads, because walking backwards kept the bitter cold wind and blowing snow from burning at our faces and necks. Even then it was a frigid walk.

When I got older, when I wanted to visit friends on the other end of town, I hopped on my bicycle, caught the bus (if I had the money), or walked, and I never complained, neither did any of my friends. Walking everywhere was a fact of life, everyone did it.

Gosh, the good old days... what great memories they are.

Sounds like me in the good old days...we were not 'sissies'! Now living in Manitoba, their winters bring all those good memories back!

 

[Ruby Rose]

There was no shortage of things kids delved into back in the way.

My FIL used to tell us stories how he would cut out a portion of an old rubber inner tube to make a sling for catapulting rocks. He said he'd get the sling going above his head and once it achieved a speed of a hundred or so miles an hour, he'd let one side of the sling go and the rock would rocket out of the holding patch like a bullet out of a gun.

Homemade slingshots were norm back in the day when I was growing up. Boys who couldn't afford a store-bought version simply carved their own.

Also remember what fun we had with mountain ash berries. We'd cut a foot-long piece out of an old garden hose, and use the length like a blowgun, firing mountain ash berries out the end at the speed of a pellet gun.

When my grandson turned ten, I presented him with the coolest home-made slingshot. Both my son-in-law and young daughter were 'horrified' at the sight and potential of it. My grandson's mouth hung open speechless! Needless to say, I took it back in case they burned it in their fireplace. City people! I think they thought of it as a weapon of sorts. My siblings and I all had one when we were young and living on the farm. We had many trees. My Dad made them...I remember them well.

 

[Gaer]

Cool thread, Marg!

 

[Aunt Marg]

So lovely hearing from you, Ruby Rose!

Coming from Manitoba, I just know you experienced bone-chilling winters!

When an old rubber inner tube wasn't available, my dad would take baby brother to the drug store where dad would purchase a couple of feet of surgical tubing, which dad would use to outfit baby brothers slingshot with.

I do remember homemade slingshots... dad made a few, but we always had a store-bought one in the house, however, having a slingshot to ones name was king in those days whether it was store-bought or not.

Love all of the memories posted!

P.S. Thank you, Gaer!

 

[Llynn]

I grew up fairly high up in the Cascade mountains. In those days, we got a lot of snow that came early and lasted 'til spring. The Company shut down the high camp during winter and we moved to the low camp for the duration.

I don't remember school ever being cancelled for weather. When it snowed, they just put chains on the buses and went on as usual. When the County plowed our roads they always left a cover of snow so chains could be used. There was one hill that, even with chains on, the buses couldn't climb. The kids who lived up there had to trudge to the bottom of their hill where the bus was waiting for them.

On another topic in this thread, I wish I had a dollar for every slingshot I made during my growing up years. There was always a pile of blown out logging truck inner tubes around from which to cut the bands for our weapons. Sometimes we made them so powerful it was impossible for a kid to pull it back.

 

[Lewkat]

I was born at the height of the depression, so you bet we were tough. Not like we had a choice. We all grew up with character and self esteem because we earned it.

 

[Ruby Rose]

Sometimes it takes me a bit to remember certain things about long-lost childhood memories, but your mention of the coal bin, Pecos, reminded me of one of my friends houses, where they had a small, all concrete room in the basement, and on the outside of their house was an iron door, but a big door, just large enough to allow for cut firewood to pass through it.

Anyhow, I remember my friends dad would toss the cut firewood in through the iron door, the firewood landing on the concrete floor of the wood room, and my friend and I would help stack it for him.

Always thought having such a room for firewood was one of the neatest things ever.

My siblings and I all loved that coal bin...the sight...the sound of it coming down the chute and the smell!

 

[Remy]

I'm originally from the central coast of California. Pretty temperate climate.

 

[Ruth n Jersey]

I remember those cold snowy days as I made way to school. My mom would make me wear pants under my dress and those rubber boots were impossible to get on over shoes and the damp smell of our cloak room as we called it back then.
It seemed by the time I got out of all that stuff it was time to put it all on again and go back home.

I vividly remember one incident. I was walking home from school in the snow with my bookbag and a few other things. I guess I didn't pull those darn pants all the way up and they slid down around my knees.
There I stood, I couldn't move. I didn't want to put my bookbag and whatever else I was holding in the snow, I had mittens on so I probably couldn't fasten the pants anyway.
From out of nowhere our neighbor came running out of the house and got my pants up. I remember she was the lady on out party line. She really saved the day.
My mom called her and thanked her.
My mom would always have my bunny slippers warming on the radiator to warm my feet when I got home from school.
I was an only child but I can't think of one time that I was bored.
I loved playing with my paper dolls. When the tabs came off my mom taped on new ones. Sometime I would cut whole families out of our Montgomery Wards catalog.
I'd love to relive some of those days as a child but not so much as an adult. There was a lot of work behind the scenes back then that I didn't realize.
All I knew was that I felt safe and loved.

 

[Verisure]

There was no shortage of things kids delved into back in the way.

My FIL used to tell us stories how he would cut out a portion of an old rubber inner tube to make a sling for catapulting rocks. He said he'd get the sling going above his head and once it achieved a speed of a hundred or so miles an hour, he'd let one side of the sling go and the rock would rocket out of the holding patch like a bullet out of a gun.

Homemade slingshots were norm back in the day when I was growing up. Boys who couldn't afford a store-bought version simply carved their own.

That there is why Goliath left the Northern Territories to try his luck in the Holy Land instead.

 

[fuzzybuddy]

My mother used to regale us with stories of how bad winters were in Buffalo, N.Y. I supposedly was born during a snow storm. My mother used her outdoor clothesline in the winter even though she had an electric clothes dryer. The clothes would dry rigidly hard with icicles on them where they dripped, but my mother claimed they were softer and smelled better than those done in the dryer. I thought it was freaky that frozen jeans could literally stand up by themselves!

OMG!!! My mom did the same. She hung the clothes out, but it was my job to get them, and put them in the dryer. The damn things were frozen to the clothes line. You had to break them off. Then you had to "break" them to get in the dryer door. Oh, the clothes smelled so better, when my brother and I had to fight to get them off the line , and in the dryer. But after we moved out, the clothes didn't need all the wonderful aroma, and went straight into the dryer, I can't guess why.

 

[Happyflowerlady]

We lived in Northern Idaho until I was nine. We were snowed in multiple times. Those were the days when the basement was full of home canned goods and the coal bin was filled to the brim.

I grew up in Sandpoint, in northern Idaho, and I remember that the snow was piled up so high that we could reach the eaves of the house and get the icesickles off of the roof (which we ate).
I remember walking to school every day, and that it was rarely (if ever) closed for snowstorms. We did get really bad blizzards every now and then, which drifted the roads shut, so pretty much everything was shut down until the snowplows could get to the roads and plow them back open.
I loved riding my horse around after the blizzard ! The whole world was snowy white, almost blindingly white, and beautiful. Dandy and I were the only moving things out in the street , and he seemed to enjoy the ride as much as I did.

This is me on top of the snow bank near our car in winter With my dog, Bonzo. You can see the roof of the garage behind me.

 

[Pecos]

I grew up in Sandpoint, in northern Idaho, and I remember that the snow was piled up so high that we could reach the eaves of the house and get the icesickles off of the roof (which we ate).
I remember walking to school every day, and that it was rarely (if ever) closed for snowstorms. We did get really bad blizzards every now and then, which drifted the roads shut, so pretty much everything was shut down until the snowplows could get to the roads and plow them back open.
I loved riding my horse around after the blizzard ! The whole world was snowy white, almost blindingly white, and beautiful. Dandy and I were the only moving things out in the street , and he seemed to enjoy the ride as much as I did.

This is me on top of the snow bank near our car in winter With my dog, Bonzo. You can see the roof of the garage behind me.
View attachment 170754

Wow, My mother and I lived in Sandpoint with my Grandfather during most of WWII. My Grandfather had a English Spaniel named Mickey that looked a whole lot like the one in your picture. After the war ended, we lived in Pullman, Troy, and finally Pocatello before moving down to ElPaso. I always missed the beauty of Idaho and it took me quite a while to really see the beauty of the high desert.