Growing up
Dad was literally a jack of all trades, well probably not all but quite a few. He was a great mechanic and was always able to fix our cars and lawnmowers and other mechanical devices. He had a lawnmower sharpener that would automatically sharpen the blades of a reel type mower. He took in that kind of work and often would have several waiting to be sharpened. He also owned a metal lathe and could make all sorts of screws. He was an avid photographer and had his own darkroom where he developed negatives and made pictures. He mixed his own chemicals for that purpose and a good many of his pictures have survived. Occasionally I will attach one or more to these posts. The one here was taken in about 1937. The car is dads and is a 1936 Plymouth, I think.
Growing up in that era of the 1940’s is hard to describe. We lived at the end of a dead end road that was surfaced with crushed oyster shell. That substance was abundant at that time since we were close to the gulf and a source for oysters. Adjacent to our house was a pasture of about 100 acres with a small patch of woods about midway across one edge. We explored these woods and the pasture extensively spending many hours in the role of our favorite cowboy or cowgirl, riding stick horses made from the trunk of a small tree called a coffee bean tree. These were numerous in the pasture and offered an abundant supply of horses for us to use. There wasn’t much TV in those days and TV’s were small and difficult to view. There were a lot of cowboy shows with Roy Rogers and Dale Evans or Gene Autry and many others. They were as violent as TV got in those days. Howdy Doody and Kukla Fran and Ollie were a couple of shows we watched that were entertaining for us young ones. We had nothing like Sesame Street or any of the later shows. All was black and white since color TV wasn’t invented yet, All the programming was clean and there were no ratings, we didn’t need them.
We raised chickens for a few years and one of my tasks was to feed them and gather eggs. We also had a few rabbits and a horse. The horse was named Dan and had been a roping horse at one time but was quite old and gentle by the time we obtained him. We couldn’t saddle him ourselves, we were too small, so we had to wait for Dad to do that and he wanted to supervise our riding anyway. There was a small ditch that ran across the pasture and one day I was riding Dan at a full gallop when we approached the ditch. He jumped the ditch and in the process I became dislodged from the saddle and landed on the ground. Dan sensed that I had gotten off and he stopped in one jump. I was shaken but unhurt except for my pride because a real cowboy never falls off his horse when it is jumping the creek. Another incident with the horse occurred on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. We had just returned from Sunday morning worship and I decided I would rope Dan so we could ride later that afternoon. I made the mistake of trying to sneak up behind him to do the roping. He was startled and as he began to run he kicked his back legs out and a hoof got me in the forehead. I think Dad cleared the fence in one jump and needless to say we spent the rest of the afternoon in the emergency room.
I know this chapter didn’t have much about building but we will get back to that. There are more stories about growing up too but I will share them later. This one has gotten a bit long.