End of summer 1948, me being a 16 year old going on 21. About 9 PM, Stuffiness of the still night air would not allow me to sleep comfortably. Neither would thoughts of, "Well Jack what are you going to do tomorrow?" Wandering in and out of my sub-conscious. Mom and Dad left a week earlier to return home and it was up to me when to make the trip back. As usual I was staying in Danville, Illinois with relatives, in tonight's case Cousin Bobby John and his family. Two humans sharing his room, with me on a comfortable army cot.
Semi awake I rolled over to the edge, sat up, reached for and applied my shoes, socks, underwear, shirt, and jeans, to their place on my body. Putting my wallet and comb in the back pocket, walked over to Bobby John, shook him ever so gently. "Listen, I'm out of here, there is a city bus leaving the corner in about 15 minuets, I'm hitch hiking home". Half awake, half asleep Bobby asked, "Got any money?" "Yea! About 25 cents", I replied. "Well take a jacket", was his answer as he turned over and back into the arms of Morpheus he went.
Tossing a couple of pairs of underwear, socks, shirts and another pair of jeans into a paper sack and slipping into a short jacket off I went to the corner. Paid the Nickel to ride to the city limits. Exited the bus, paper sack in my hand I began to practice putting my arm out, thumb up, moving the arm from left to right, tipping the hand to the left as it moved back to the left, turning back, straight up and repeating the move to the right. The basic "smile" was not necessary right now since I would be very lucky if headlights would be enough for a driver to see me, with it being so pitch black.
Darkness of the evening wrapped it's arms around me, surrounding everything, leaving life visually as a blackboard. Distant stars, light years away, twinkled their radiance capturing my roving eyes. Only the thundering sound of a Peterbilt's horn alerted me to the fact that death was only a foot away. Speed of light would not have been fast enough to beat my butt to the ground as I fell backwards into tall bushes growing ever so close to the road. Their actual softness was welcome, preventing what could have been a very hurtful disaster.
Peterbilt had screeched to a halt about 30 yards eastward. It's driver was quickly at my side as I began to raise myself up. One of his arms and hand under my back, while the other hand grabbed my left arm to aid in the lifting. "What the hell were you doing, out here along side of this major road?” He barked at me. As I regained my footing and stretching a bit to be sure nothing was broken I explained that I was hitch hiking back to Albany, NY. "Well you better get the hell into my cab before you get killed, I'll get you to Crowfordsville just over the Indiana Border".
Highway 136 was no Interstate but then again in those days, nothing was. Yet it was a well traveled route out of Danville heading East. The distance to Crawfordsville, Indiana as I remember is about 50 miles and it was around midnight when Mr. Peterbilt dropped me off at a crossroads. There to the right was a restaurant, not open but it would be in the morning, I figured about 6AM. I walked up to the front door which had a small porch like front, laid my paper bag full of worldly possessions for a pillow, and put my body down, used my jacket as a blanket and off to dream land I went.
So........there she was, there I was, together, embracing, about to be kissed.......but not by the boot of the owner of the restaurant as it nudged my backside, "Wake up, come on wake up young man", his voice breaking into my dream. Still half-awake, half-asleep I stumbled to my feet, off balance and falling against the building.
"Morning Sir!" I almost shouted in my startled awareness. He continued to open the door, walk in, leaving the door wide open. This to me was an invitation to go on in, which I did, reaching for my precious belongings I entered, closing the door behind me.
Quickly I viewed the interior, casting my eyes to locate a possible reason for me to be there. Almost broke as I was the knowledge that I would have to offer him some inducement of labor to "earn" my morning meal caused mental wheels to spin. Over all the place was clean, tables covered, windows clean, no visible dust on the curtains, window casements, chairs in place. But Ah! yes, no silverware out, no napkins in place, necessary items such as salt, pepper, ash trays, none of these were in sight, yes that is a starting point.
Mr. 6 foot 3 was already through the small dining area and in the back as I approached what seemed to be the kitchen area. "Sir, I would be glad to pitch in and help you set up the tables, I'm very good at that". I would be "very good" at any basic work that I could do to feed this very angry animal inside my stomach this early, this morning, this day.
Two hours later, work done, body fed, I was almost skipping down the center of Hwy. 136 singing and whistling the song, "Zippa De Do Da, Zippa De Ay, my o my what a wonderful day", Once again heading eastward, homeward bound.
Lightning bugs......Ah! yes those pleasant creatures that lit up the life of chldren prior to Thomas Edison. Being an only child I was able to make ALL the rules to play by. One rule was to never hurt any living thing that gave me pleasure, lightning bugs were listed in the top 10, probably next to butterflies.
My grandparent's back yard again comes into view. I often would sleep in a small tent there. Using the usual mayonaise jar, holes punctured in the metal top, I often would venture into darkness of night to capture each and evey one I could. Having placed many of my new found friends within this device I would run, not walk, to my pup tent castle. There I would lay upon my sleeping bag, placing my head on the feather pillow made by grandma. Reaching skyward with both arms, hands holding the Hellman's glowing jar I would enjoy the glistening, darkening, glistening, darkening glow as each beauty played hide and seek within my view.
Period of time would seem like hours, but knowing they were being held prisoner, needing to fly away into a life of their own, I would enjoy their offering for only a short time. Crawling out of my military drab green castle I would unscrew the top, tip their cell, shake it a bit and allow each to fly away. No doubt going quickly to tell their mothers and fathers about the joy they gave this little human on such a moonless night.
Girls clothing of poodle skirts, crinolines, neck scarf, white buck shoes, bobby sox turned down a certain way, YEA! This is one male that remembers every one of them walking into the drug store where I was a soda jerk. Root Beer Floats, Cherry Cokes, Hot Fudge Sundaes (served on top with an extra helping of tiny crushed nuts as a gentle blanket for that one and only cherry, and a wink to go with them), just to certain young ladies of course.
A gleaming classic nostalgic Wurlitzer standing against a distant wall while each booth held a miniature one into which a quarter would fill the entire room with 5 magical sounds of the day. Of course having the key to those little gems made easy access for me and pleased many of those young ladies. That key, extra toppings, and a few winks made me a welcome addition to the enjoyment of it all.
Roller skating, oh! Do the memories flow. The National Museum of. Roller Skating! Located in Lincoln, Nebraska holds a lot of memories from around the USA rinks. Figure, dance, singles, and pairs loved each of them. Couples advance, Ladies choice. Sounds of the musical organ start my feet moving, swaying away, turning, jumps, splits, yea, loved it all.
What about the clothes the males wore, penny shoe loafers, balloon sleeves, bright colors, in the 50's the charcoal suits with pink shirts, black ties. Peg pants, or large cuffs on the jeans. And before all that, in the 40's, Zoot suits, big lapels, long gold chains from the belt loop down along the leg leading into the pocket. Into the 50's 60's with large medallion type necklaces, love beads, tye dye, Neru jackets. The men had their styles also and I wore everyone of them, enjoyed them. I still dig that stuff out to wear to "theme" dances. YEA! We all had some great times enjoying life.
Meanwhile back at Skatland USA, Doing the classic A Waltz, the B Waltz, Society Blues. Back in the days of Grace Kelly/Prince Rainer's wedding I and my lady of the day were the "Prince and Princess" of the Conga line. We would start everyone of them when we were present.
Then there was the march, start off with couples going down the center of the rink, to the end, starting back in fours, then eights, then counting backwards to twos. Next forming a bridge by couples holding hands while others skated through going right into, "All Skate".
Then of course there was the "Drive In" (darn those crinolines). Did I start anyone's memories?
The memory of Nelson Eddy/Jeanette McDonald brought back one of my many routines in pantomime where one side of my body was clothed in female attire, including one half of my face, makeup/hair, while the other half was in male attire. Even to Jeanette's side having a long white glove. Using a full spotlight, turning sideways each time while doing Nelson or doing Jeanette. To the tune, "Indian Love Song". All of it was so funny.
It is still so very nice when a smile is returned, or even offered by the other person first. I still open doors for others, except once. I approached the door first, several steps ahead of the female. As I pushed the door open, entered, turned and held the door out of courtesy. Not quite to the threshold she utters, "I don't need your permission to enter", a second did not pass prior to my letting the door go. Utter amazement was upon her face as entrance was being blocked. I quickly reached the handle, re-opened the door while saying, "I don't need your permission to be a gentleman". Extending my left hand fully out, to the right and slowly moved arm and hand to the left, visually saying, "Please enter". A smile crossed her lips, it was all worth while.
This page and connecting pages: Copyright © 1996-2005 by Jack Leroy Bryson. All rights reserved. This site may be freely linked to but not duplicated in any fashion without my consent.
