I lived on the south end of my home town, Wenatchee here in WA state, it was a quiet and peaceful place to live. I grew up in the same little house until I married.
I knew every person and their children as we all grew up doing the same things. Anything that went on whether it be Spring, Summer, Winter, or Fall, our active minds were always up to something. I think back about my old friends, and how our mothers looked out for all of us at one time or another. Always, we were together, bonded for life.
In the fall we would go to school and our new clothes were always too warm. Windows were wide open in the classrooms, as air conditioners for schools were not yet invented. By the end of the month we were needing our sweaters, as the days were getting shorter and the leaves were beginning to change color and the smell of Fall was in the air.
In the schoolyard were beautiful hundred foot Cottonwoods. They surrounded the small tennis court, and the baseball diamond.. I used to sit on the cement wall that divided the courtyard. The giant trees were my refuge, under the golden leaves, by myself with my dreams. I would listen to the wind as it tossed the boughs from side to side. I don't think I knew this at the time, but that is where I use to meditate. At a young age I was already learning to go to my place where I could feel peace and solace.
On the other side of the school was a old Elm tree that was split in half. It was the best climbing tree God ever made. It also held in it's boughs the first boy that ever kissed me. I was eight years old & he was older, at all of ten years old. I will only use his initials - “W.H.” He whistled at me as I was crossing through the schoolyard,. I couldn't see him because of the leaves that separated us. He whistled again and out came a dark haired, brown eyed boy, & my heart was taken! He walked with me to the store and as he did he began to tell me of his life and why he was in that tree. He and his Father and his sister had just moved into the next block. His Mother had died and his Father wanted to move from where there were so many memories and start a new life. He said his sister was a year younger, and she took care of him and his Dad. I felt really sad for him as I couldn't imagine living without my Mother. He walked me home from the store and when we got close to my house, he took a hold of my hand and kissed me on my forehead. My first kiss!
One morning I woke up and the house was cold. Mother wasn't up yet so I went in and turned up the oil stove that was in the living room. I stood in front of the flame that flickered thru the little window. As I pulled the curtain back, I could see why it was so cold. The first snow was starting to come down, very slow and small flakes. Mother had always said you could smell the snow in the air. It takes on a very special smell like none other. Snow always fell before Halloween but melted during the day. November was upon us and we would have a foot or so by Thanksgiving. I loved this holiday, all of my family would come together. Mother would send John and I out to crack walnuts for the salad she was making. John and his rock and me with the walnut sack in tow and the hammer. We always did this outside on our little porch. When we were cold or done cracking enough nuts we would go inside, proud of the fact we did such a good job helping with what we thought was the most important job of Thanksgiving. Mother would bake John and I two small pumpkin pies. She had saved the little tins from the pot pies she had bought throughout the year. She made use of everything and we felt very special to have our own pies. Our little home was filled with love, laughter, and lots of food. Somehow we always managed to fit around that little table, it was the focus of many family gatherings year after year.
Having snow in the winter was part of growing up. I was sick a lot so I watched out the windows as the other children played in the snow forts, and building the best snowman was always a contest. It was hard on me to not be a part of the fun. I would sneak out to play and pay for it that night. There were sledding parties, we all had a sled, or a toboggan, or a piece of cardboard. Everyone was good about sharing whatever they had. When the parents would get involved in our parties, we would have a warm fire to warm our mittens against. Hot cocoa and marshmallows to roast over the open fire. I miss those special times and when I drift off somewhere, remembering past Winters as a child, a smile fills my heart..
My friends and I made snow angels while on our way to our neighborhood Bible school. When you have a big open yard and there is all that snow it seems to be what should be done. After all, we were on our way to earn our new Bibles! We had been rehearsing our Bible verses every week and knew everything that was to be gone over. “Come on John:1!” . This little school was in a small underground house of some sort. Two elderly ladies would come and preach to our souls. We went there on our own and in all the time we did, I don't remember a parent coming one time to see if this was on the up and up - so to speak. We went there for years. These ladies dedicated their lives to save our souls.
The time had come, the verses were learned, and the Bibles would be here on this special day. Our names were called out and as mine was called I remember the feeling of real achievement! I had earned this Bible & what I didn't know was that our names would be engraved in gold on the front cover! It had a zipper to open and close and protect the pages, with a small gold cross to mark where we were to read and not loose our places. I cherished that Bible with all my heart, me, Linda Dawson, earned this all by myself!
Towards the end of February or early March, the warm Chinook winds would start to blow. We may of had a foot of snow when we went to bed and by morning the ground would be barren, no sign of Winter’s past. I always liked to stand with Mother as she hung the clothes on the line, the wind blowing them dry nearly as fast as she hung them up. Oh! that smell on the sheets & bedding! Clean fresh air & so soft against my skin. Mother would tuck me in and would read me a night time story, the day was done, and sleep came easily.
Mother, John, and I would make our once a month trips to town on the city bus. This is when Mother would pay her bills and shop. If there were stairs to climb, Mother would send John with the money to make the payment. Bills were paid first. Then we would go to the dime store and we could pick out a small item of our very own. I always liked to get something domestic. I loved to buy things to do my dolly’s laundry or little dishes for tea parties (I still do this with my one and only granddaughter, Ashley. I relive my own childhood through her.) Anyway, after this we would go to the drug store. Mother would send John and I to the little cafe in the back of the store to order our usual while she turned in her prescriptions to the pharmacy. We ordered the same cheeseburgers, fries, a strawberry milkshake for me, and John’s chocolate. I could never finish my meal so John was always to my rescue. He never tried to gross me out during this meal, but made up for it at many of our meals at home. He at times was my worst nightmare! Actually he was many times. I am surprised we grew up loving each other as much as we do. Maybe because he doesn't try to gross me out anymore.
I used to find entertainment where ever possible. So knowing it was sturdy enough, I was swinging on the shower bar pretending I could do tricks on it and just having a bit of fun. In comes bother John. He pushed me off the shower bar and I hit my head on the bath tub faucet. Holding his hand over my mouth to stifle the scream that was building inside of me, I struggled for breath. He told me to be quiet ,(uh, huh, OK) My head was bleeding, a knot was already forming over my eye. He let me go and I screamed bloody murder! He meant to push me off the bar but not to hit the faucet. I don't remember seeing John for the rest of the day, but on the next - I could see him out of one eye. I remember thinking one day I would get back at him, somehow…
Mother asked John to take out the garbage. I knew my brother well enough to know he did things in his own sweet time. Mother used to use spray starch while doing the laundry and she had a couple empty cans. She always told us to make sure the cans were in the garbage and not in the burning barrels. I, um, may of forgotten that. I placed them in the burnable stuff and everything turned out as I had planned! I heard the explosion, BOOM! BOOM! John came into the house with garbage and black ashes all over him! He was OK but a stinking mess. Ah… sweet revenge, but it didn't last long for me.
I was taking down the laundry on the line for Mother. I saw John down by the mailbox with a friend and John had his new BB gun. He was shooting whatever moved. I happened to be moving. I was hit on my left cheek bone just below my eye! I let out my scream that Mother knew all too well. My hand covering my eye, we all thought he shot it out. It swelled up and John was gone, again, for the rest of the day, again!
As we got older and he started to date, Johnny was about 14, so that would make me about 10. He took me to his girlfriend’s house so I could play with her younger sister while they played records and kissed. Ugh! I thought they must of been very rich by the way their house was decorated and it had a nice yard with furniture outside also. When it came time for John and I to leave, we walked all the way home. It was about three miles, Johnny wanted to save his bus money for another time, so he took mine also. The next time we went on the bus. We still had a good walk but I was with my brother and I thought he was beginning to like me. Wrong!!!!! We left the girlfriends house and walked as far as the city park, this was about two blocks from the bus stop. Johnny told me “to cover my eyes and follow me” and led me right into a large Elm tree! T he bark on a Elm is very rough and I hit it with all my force. It knocked me on my butt, my nose was bleeding, and I was getting my good clothes bloody. I trusted my brother thinking he was past all of his meanness towards me.
I have realized as I write this, I am still that hurt little girl who never had someone to protect me, and I thought he loved me enough not to do anything mean to me ever again. Some hurts just never go away. My time was coming though. I never thought I was "ornery" as my Mother called it, but I was biding my time to exact some sort of revenge on my brother…
Johnny had a gift at being a carpenter. Mother had her little home remodeled and Johnny was the one who put up paneling on the walls, installed the new ceiling tiles and hung the delicate living room light. He was on the ladder and asked me to hand him the glass fixture. He was in a position where he couldn't hurt me, if he did, he would break the lamp shade! Years of him bullying me had come to a end for me, I took the claw part of the hammer and drug it deep into his skin. He arched his back and let out a yelp, and then no one saw ME for the rest of the day!
Going back a bit again, we children of the neighborhood took on what we thought was a very faithful duty. Each Spring after the snow had melted, we would go over to the place that we called “The Flats” where there was a lonely grave with nothing else around it but sage brush. Why anyone would knock it over, amazed us, it was so pretty. The headstone was three parts. The bottom was a thick square slab of marble, the next had the engraving of her life etched deeply into the white stone, the next was a taller spear shape with a pair of hands placed palm to palm - as if in prayer towards Heaven. I guess because it was solitary, we just became it's caregiver. As long as it was there, so were we every Spring.
On the next block over from my home, was a trail that went down to the railroad yard. We called it the "Sandy Trail".named that because it was sand under our feet. We normally never went alone and if we did, we ran as fast as we could! We were told by our parents that it was dangerous to go down it alone because of the tramps that lived down at the “Hobo Camps.“ The Sandy Trail lead down to a old post office, and a hotel for the men who worked on the railroad. There was a old grocery store that Mr. Boozer owned. He was a friendly old man and his candy selection was better than the other two stores in our neighborhood up above the Terminal. Mr. Boozer even had a street named after him and it still is named that after all these years. That area was the lower class of people. The transients, and apple pickers, who moved from place to place - season to season. That part of the world was an adventure. Above the Hobo Camps was a stock yard where we loved to play. My friends and I would go down there where the hay was kept and climb to be “King of The Hill!” There were normally a few chickens around and we would gather the eggs to take home with us. We usually got shooed away by the men that worked there but not very often. We played there for years with no mishaps.
The one thing about having a small house was having a very large yard! Mother didn't mind having half the neighborhood at our home, because as she use to say, "she knew where her kids were!” We would play Red Rover-Red Rover, Statue, Hide and Seek. Because our little house sat back quite away and had a long slope to it, we played a game of who could roll the fastest down the hill and go back up. Dad made a tetherball stand for us. It ‘s base was a old tire of which he poured cement and placed the pole in to the center to harden. Mom & I went to the Coast to Coast hardware store and purchased a tether ball. It lasted for years and was a favorite game, even if John and I weren't out to play, it still was used by anyone who wanted to. Like I said earlier in my story, our families shared everything. Life was fun because we made it that way.
When it was too hot to play in the sun, we would take a blanket and lay under the shade of the lilac and honeysuckle trees. I could read or Mother would. as I watched the clouds drift by, I would lay there thinking how the cloud looked like something, a car, or flower, or maybe a fluffy bear. I would drift off to sleep, until the day was cooler. We would eat out on the back porch come dinner time. The screened porch was cooler than the little house. We didn't eat much meat except on Sunday. Dad grew our corn, cukes, peas, tomatoes, green beans, squash, carrots, and radishes. I do not remember being hungry as a child, never, ever.
We had a very nice old Italian couple who lived next door, their names were Joe & Mary Angelo. Joe grew the best garden in all of South Wenatchee.
When we didn't have enough or didn't grow certain veggies, Mom would go to Joe and for a few pennies Mother would make fresh yummy dishes to eat.
Joe grew also - to my liking - raspberries! Every year he would remember my birthday. He would in his very strong sounding Italien accent say, "Hey a Susie, what’s' a today?” I would say "it's my birthday Joe!” He would say, "Well I a got a somethin’ for just a you Susie, some a ‘raz a berries’ just a picked em fresh like a you like em!”
I can still see his smile, he liked to tease me. I remember his old gray garden hat, and he carried a hoe in one hand and something from the garden in the other.
They had a old crank telephone that you could hear ring where ever you happened to be within a block around! He would yell at it like it could hear him,. “Yeah, I'm a comin‘ don't ya know I hear ya? What's a matter with you? Jesus, Sweet Mary, Holy Joseph!” I remember he was Catholic by those words alone.
Joe didn't drive his old car very well either.He would hit the door frame of his garage and bang it up backing
out. I always thought that the car was too big and Joe could hardly see to drive,it was all of those reasons.It actually use to be fun to watch,I must of been very bored at the time.
It was a very sad day when his wife Mary died. She used to catch me walking by the little window she always kept open in her kitchen. She had a cookie jar that was shaped like a old Padre, with the words on it "Thou shall not steal" She loved to bake and chat for a few minutes. I spent many times at her table with fresh baked oatmeal cookies and a cold glass of milk. They both died quite close to each other, he died from loneliness, I'm sure.
After school was out and summer had just began,the South Wenatchee Garden Club would hold thier annuel garden party in the gymnasium of our school.
Mother would make an arrangment of her iris,or roses,or glads. She was very pround of her flower garden she grew and she entered every year.
I on the other hand loved to go because I would get to wear my Easter outfit,before I grew out of it which included my matching purse,my bonnet,gloves and patent leather shoes.
Mother dressed up also in her best dress and matching hat,purse and gloves.
As the judges went around to the different flower arrangments,we would have our tea,and pie.Mom would have lemon meringue and I would have chocolate cream.
After we were finished we would go see what kind of ribbon Mother won.
She never came in first place,but second many times.She knew the ribbon wasn't as important as entering.She believed her flowers were always the prettest and smelled the sweetest.
I can still smell her sweet flowers.A special day spent together for many years.
She gave me another memory to recall and share.
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