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Posts Tagged ‘Memories’

Mendets front

I recently posted something about a 1940s era junkman who visited my neighborhood and how my mother always looked for old pots and pans which she would repair with little pieces of metal.  My daughter found this card of Mendets on eBay and bought it for me.  This is exactly what my mother used, except sometimes she bought them in a small box.

Mendets were patented in the early 1900s and the dress/hairstyle of the lady on the card makes me think this might be from the 1930s.  The back of the card has instructions as well as suggesting some other uses such as repairing a hot water bottle, using on campfire utensils and even shows a lady perched precariously on a ladder repairing a gutter (“Saved the cost of a tinsmith”).

Mendets back (669x1024)

Until World War II was over, I believe every pot, pan and kettle in our kitchen had a Mendet or two helping to give a bit more life.

Click on photos to enlarge.

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rag-and-bone-cart_pencil
The popularity of American Pickers on TV reminded me of the “rag pickers” of the 1930-40s era in Cincinnati.  There was the occasional horse-drawn cart that rumbled through the streets of our small working-class East End neighborhood with a picker shouting in a sing-song style, “Any rags or old iron”.  They were the pickers looking to buy; in our neighborhood we also had a picker who wanted to sell.  On hot summer afternoons, a big grey 1930s Packard would turn from Eastern Avenue and make its way down the slope on Gotham Place toward the river bank.

My sister in front of our house with the beautiful pink tea roses.  Gotham Place is shown in the background

My sister in front of our house with the beautiful pink tea roses. Gotham Place is shown in the background

A tall older man with a day’s growth of beard would maneuver the car to a clear spot in the large area outside our little red brick house and set up shop.  The car doors would be opened and from every house on the narrow street women and children would hurry out the door.  Mothers would call out, “The Ragman is here” and everybody would gather around the car to see what treasures might be available that day.

The Ragman drove a very raggedy version of this car

The Ragman drove a very raggedy version of this car

I never learned what the man’s real name was, but he made his rounds of the better homes in Hyde Park, Indian Hill, Mt. Lookout, Mt. Washington, etc., to pick up  castoffs which he sold at very low prices on his various stops throughout the East End.  Customers would pick up an item and ask, “How much?”  The Ragman would think a second or two and give a reasonable price which we could take or leave.  There was a constant stream of questions and answers going back and forth between customer and seller.

Daddy, Mother, Lillian and Shirley  - pictured in the big area in front of our house where the Ragman used to park

Daddy, Mother, Lillian and Shirley – pictured in the big area in front of our house where the Ragman used to park

There was something for everybody – pots and pans, dishes, glassware, clothes, toys, and my favorite – movie magazines.  For a nickel I could buy 3 or 4 slightly outdated publications and read all about Jeanne Crain, Dana Andrews, Lon McAllister and all the other “stars of the silver screen”.  There might also be an occasional Seventeen magazine which was interesting for a pre-teenager to read to get news of the latest styles of clothes and tips on dating.

My mother tended to pick up old pots and pans which could be made new again with her addition of little round metal pieces that she always had on hand to patch worn-out utensils.  My little sister might buy a small doll or toy.  One year she bought a doll’s china tea set with a teapot and creamer that had pouring spouts shaped like elephants’ trunks.  I had been irritable with her when I came home from school that day and Mother said, “Oh, be patient with her.  She worked all afternoon cleaning up a special gift for your birthday.”  It truly was a special gift – I wish I still had it.

y sister and I in our Victory Garden.  In the background is the Cincinnati Water Works

My sister and I in our Victory Garden. In the background is the Cincinnati Water Works

These were the early to mid-1940s World War II days before television and shopping malls.  It was a wonderful treat to be able to do some shopping almost in our front yard on the banks of the Ohio River on a clear blue summer day.

Is it any wonder that my favorite stores now are antique malls and thrift shops?

Click on photos to enlarge.

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Throughout the years while I was raising my four kids (beginning in 1954), I kept a journal where I periodically made notes about holidays, school, vacations, etc.  As an occasion arises where I think one of my journal entries would be pertinent, I’m going to post it just as I wrote or typed it back in the day (except for an explanatory note or correction of a typo).  

The children will be known here by the nicknames their grandfather used when they were toddlers:  The oldest daughter will be Newsie (because she was as good as a newspaper for finding out the latest happenings), the oldest son is Bar (because he called Grandpa’s truck Bar and Grandpa called him Bar), the youngest son is Jackson, and the youngest daughter is Shanty (as in Shanty-Boat).

Bar and Newsie

Bar and Newsie

Jackson

Jackson

 “Jackson saw a plump robin on the front lawn today and with the confidence of childhood announced:  ‘There’s a robin.  It’s spring!’  And I’ll have to agree with him that the miracle of spring has come to Maple Drive.  The sky is a pale clear blue, serving well as the background for tender green buds and leaflets appearing on so many of the trees.  Each lawn is the fresh green of spring and the gorgeous color compensates for the bare patches of earth.  Daffodils, dandelions and violets are blooming, and the tulips are budding.  The leaves of the iris are straight and sure and reassuring.  The temperature is 80 degrees this afternoon and the kids are wearing shorts and crop-tops, and Bar and his friend Danny are tossing a baseball.  Our dog Penny ran with great glee over newly-seeded lawns and through flower beds, and dug a foot-deep hole in the dusty patch beside the back porch.  Newsie and her friend Rosanne came in with nosegays of violets, dandelions and large leaves, picked in the hollow and carefully placed in a yellow plastic cup on the refrigerator.”

Precious memories of a spring almost 50 years ago.

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card-early
Obituary
Grady Hatton, the former major league third baseman who managed the Houston Astros in the 1960s, has died. He was 90.  Alyssa Hatton, his granddaughter, says Hatton died Thursday of the effects of old age at his home in Warren, the rural East Texas Piney Woods town that was his home for 40 years.

Hatton hit .254 with 91 home runs and 533 RBIs in 1,312 major league games in 12 seasons from 1946 to 1960 with the Cincinnati Reds, Chicago White Sox, Boston Red Sox, St. Louis Cardinals, Baltimore Orioles and Chicago Cubs. He had a 164-221 record as Houston’s manager from 1966-68.

The Beaumont native starred at the University of Texas and served in the U.S. Army during World War II.

A funeral is scheduled for Monday at First Baptist Church of Warren. He will be buried Mount Pisgah Cemetery near Woodville.

I can’t remember when I wasn’t a baseball fan, but during the summer of 1946 when I was 13 years old (ready to start high school in the fall), I became a full-fledged Cincinnati Reds enthusiast.  I listened to every game on the radio back in the days when games played away from home were broadcast by Waite Hoyt adding his wonderful embellishments to bare minimum details received over the wire.  Of course, he called the home games from old Crosley Field with all of the background sounds of fans cheering, bats cracking, and the organ urging everyone to cheer a little louder.  I loved the Reds and I especially loved a rookie who came up that year – Grady Hatton.  He was 22 years old, single, handsome, and a good player.  He immediately became the darling of the teenage girls in Cincinnati or the “bobbysockers“ as the press called us.

Television was new and the Reds were not on the schedule yet – that would happen for the first time on September 21, 1947.  It was the only time in my life I ever played hooky.  I took the streetcar to my high school that morning and, knowing the broadcast would be over by the time I returned home in the afternoon, I got back on a streetcar heading for home and saw the game on our very tiny television set that my father had built.

The only way to see my idol was in person at the games (and I didn’t have the means to go to very many) or to grab any picture I could find in our daily Cincinnati Post or Sunday Cincinnati Enquirer.  All of the pictures I’ve posted are from my scrapbook which still survives with faded clippings of an exciting era for me.

clipping-team
I loved finding pictures of players off the field such as this one of the Reds at the railroad station, returning from spring training in 1948.  Grady Hatton is in the center along with some of my other favorites – Ewell Blackwell, Kent Peterson and Eddie  Erautt.
at train
From 1947 is this shot of Grady (second from right) in the dining room.  It’s interesting that the caption says this is the first year that players in training have received expense money.

dining room-training
I also liked this photo of Grady and his sister who was visiting from their home town of Beaumont, Texas.

with sister
RIP, my favorite ballplayer of all time.

card-2pix

Click on pictures to enlarge.

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4108 Maple-1961

Throughout the years while I was raising my four kids (beginning in 1954), I kept a journal where I periodically made notes about holidays, school, vacations, etc.  As an occasion arises where I think one of my journal entries would be pertinent, I’m going to post it just as I wrote or typed it back in the day (except for an explanatory note or correction of a typo).  

In 1952, when my husband and I returned home from his brief stint in the Navy, my parents offered to let us rent the upstairs portion of their two-family house at the rate of $12/month (cheap, even in 1952).  By 1961, I had 3 children who were 6, 4 and 10 months – we had outgrown the apartment and were looking for an affordable house that was big enough to accommodate our growing family.  While the oldest girl was in school, I had been on numerous outings with the real estate agent, grasping the four-year-old by one hand and carrying a very heavy baby in a snowsuit on one hip.  Nothing we had seen was right for us.  Then, one February Saturday morning, an ad in the paper caught my eye – and we were on our way to our home on Maple Drive in the Oakley suburb of Cincinnati.

The picture and the following description are from the 1961 real estate flyer.  (Click on picture to enlarge.)

4108 Maple-1961-B

“If all goes well with the building and loan, I think we have finally started to buy our own home.  On a rainy Saturday morning, I looked through the ‘House for Sale’ ads quickly and suddenly ‘Oakley – $11,250′ leaped at me from the page.  I could hardly wait to call the real estate office, and was even more excited when I heard it described.  It was in a driving rainstorm that Frank, the three kids and I turned onto Maple Drive.  At once, I felt it was too good to be true – such a pretty, quiet, dead-end street, with well-kept homes.  Then we saw the number 4108.  ‘Oh, it’s a shingle!’ Frank said disgustedly, but then we noticed the shingle was only a small amount of trim on the gable and the rest was gleaming white frame.  There was a nice lawn in front and some short pine-like bushes close to the house.  Cement steps led up to a large front porch and on the small second-floor windows were green and white aluminum awnings.  A driveway at the side led to a two-car garage and in back was a small fenced yard, with more property going over the hill.

L. – February 26, 1961″

My parents had been so good to us and I hated to leave, but we needed more room and to have a house with a nice yard for the kids was just a dream come true.  We added another baby girl in 1970 and lived there for 21 years.

maple and lr curtains_0001

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3 kids-1964

3 kids-1964 (624x800)

Throughout the years while I was raising my four kids (beginning in 1954), I kept a journal where I periodically made notes about holidays, school, vacations, etc.  As an occasion arises where I think one of my journal entries would be pertinent, I’m going to post it just as I wrote or typed it back in the day (except for an explanatory note or correction of a typo).  

The children will be known here by the nicknames their grandfather used when they were toddlers:  The oldest daughter will be Newsie (because she was as good as a newspaper for finding out the latest happenings), the oldest son is Bar (because he called Grandpa’s truck Bar and Grandpa called him Bar), the youngest son is Jackson, and the youngest daughter is Shanty (as in Shanty-Boat).

In January, 1964, we were a family of five: mother, father, 9-year-old daughter Newsie, 7-year-old son Bar, and 3-year-old son Jackson.  We lived in a 1922 two-story home in the Oakley suburb of Cincinnati with a nice backyard for the kids to play in.  Jackson was prone to the croup and didn’t get to go out and play in the big snow that greeted us on the first day of January, 1964.

Maple Drive greeted 1964 wearing a thick blanket of white as seven inches of snow covered Cincinnati early on New Year’s Day.  The street is rutted deeply with tread marks and the cars are all wearing top-pieces of snow which occasionally tilt rakishly on the side as the sun grows warmer.  Most of the walks are neatly shoveled and salted so the kids troop gleefully across lawns and up the middle of the roads.  Our kids got an extra two days of vacation due to the snow and showed their appreciation by wallowing in it all day.  As a surprise for Jackson and me, Newsie and Bar fashioned a plump snowman with all the trimmings—limb arms, rock eyes and buttons, plaid scarf and Bar’s green leather cap.  Jackson can look through the dining room window and see friend snowman staring back at him from the yard, which is pocked with footmarks of various sizes.”

L – January 2, 1964

Jackson had six more years to be the baby before another daughter came along and I love to read in my notes where the two older children went out of their way to surprise and please their little brother.  Happy memories of almost 50 years ago.

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Neisner's (1024x795)At Christmas time, my little sister and I loved to go to Neisner’s 5 and 10 (“the dime store”, we called it), a treasure trove of gifts for children, or adults for that matter, with small coins in their pockets.  We circled around and around the counters, picking up cards with beautiful jeweled earrings or flowered boxes of dusting powder or the ever popular Midnight in Paris perfume in small cobalt blue bottles.  These would be wonderful surprises for Mother, the Grandmas, the aunts – if we pooled our money.  There were small bottles of shaving lotion, glistening emerald green on the counters, which were standard fare for the men in the family.  For small cousins there were jack sets, paddle balls, tiny dolls – such an array!

Now, that 5 and 10 stores are a thing of the past, I remember all those dear people opening our dime store gifts, clumsily wrapped and labeled, and exclaiming with wonder – the same as my sister and I did as we entered the marvelous world of Neisner’s.

HAPPY MEMORIES OF THE WONDERS OF CHRISTMAS

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In 1989 my oldest daughter made up a little booklet for family members with her memories of Christmas in the 1960s.  Since then, I get it out every year and read it – and cry.  It’s a very accurate depiction of our family’s Christmas and this year she put it on her blog in PDF form.  For those who grew up in the 1960s or who raised children in that era, it might be a fun read.


http://www.nudged2write.com/archives/3219

Happy Christmas Eve.

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On Friday, I pause and remember a single moment from the past week – inspired by The Warden’s Log.

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On July 13, 2012, my two daughters surprised me with a big box of wrapped gifts, informing me it was exactly 80 days until my 80th birthday and I would be able to unwrap one gift a day.  The gift items would commemorate a year in my life in some way.  This is what I received this week.


1996 – Two 1996 note cards by one of my favorites – Tasha Tudor.


1997 – My youngest daughter knitted 3 beautiful washcloths from a 1997 pattern – too pretty to use for washcloths.

1998 – A 1998 cookbook by Florence Henderson – Short-Cut Cooking.  This was intended as something of a gag gift from my youngest daughter who is still a huge fan of Mrs. Brady and The Brady Bunch (and I‘m not), but actually there are some good recipes in this book.


1999 – 1999 was an important year for all of us when my youngest daughter’s son was born.  The gift is an amazing fold-out picture book of photos of my grandson accompanied by his notes and sketches – priceless.

2000 – A beautiful Lenox Holiday Silver Millennium Ball.  It’s designed to hold a small gift, potpourri or small treasures.


2001 – A set of coasters knitted from a 2001 pattern.


2002 – Lynette Jensen’s 2002 edition of Cozy Cabin Quilts.

All of my posts on this wonderful celebration are listed in Family – My 80th Birthday in my index on the
right.

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