Credit Before Plastic

In the 40s and 50s the majority of people in my town used credit for most of their purchases. The different Store Owners would usually have a drawer, shelves or folder where they stored small ‘bill books’ each with a customers name on them. Every time a family member would buy something it would be written into the book. Some merchants would keep a running total so that people knew if they were overspending. At the end of the month when, those that had wage earning jobs got paid, they would go to the various places where they had purchased items, and pay the bill. Our town (as most outside of Edmonton) was a farming center, and I am not sure exactly how they would arrange to pay their bills. A farmer’s income depended on when they sold grain or livestock, and I am sure the Store Keepers would have to wait until a farmer had the cash coming in. It must have been difficult for the shop owners to ‘carry’ so many people for a month or more, and I am sure there must have been families who were never able to pay their accounts in full. I said in my intro to this Blog that I did not want my Great Grands (too late for my Grands) to do some of the idiotic things that I did. WELL – I will relate the story of my first cigar another time – but for now - My mother smoked a brand of cigarette called Dailey Mail, which along with Vogue were 1 cent cheaper per pack than all other brands. 28 cents vs. 29 cents. Often my mother would get me to pick up some items at the store including packs of cigarettes. This gave me the opportunity to replenish my ‘smokes’ when needed as I could just put them on the bill. I was around 12 years old (I know – I am not proud of it now) when my mother asked me – “Davie are you charging cigarettes on the bill?” I, of course, said NO – I don’t smoke (gulp). My mother replied “then what are these cigarettes on the bill for 28 cents?” I had not noticed that the month before my mother had switched brands to Players (a 29 cent brand)!!! Caught! – One of many times!

Hopalong Cassidy - Tom Mix - The Lone Ranger (and Tonto too)

As well as being a gathering place for people when the train arrived three times a week, for the boys of the town, the Train Station was a playground and one of many places for us to get into trouble. Not that I, Davie would ever get into trouble. (In my early years I was never called a ‘chicken’ – and if others were going to do ‘something’, I would be there). Often many of the ‘somethings’ were not the wisest but “hey’ we had to entertain ourselves. The rail siding at the station would usually have a few freight cars sitting idle. Most of them would be waiting for grain to be loaded from one of the two Grain Elevators located beside the tracks, or perhaps, from time to time, livestock. After the once weekly movie at the Community Center Hall (at least every third week, a western) with Hopalong, Tom Mix, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers or the Lone Ranger and Tonto too, these rail cars were one of many places for us to relive some of the amazing things our ‘hero’s had done. We would often play Cowboys and Indians (I am sorry, I realize this is not politically correct – but at the time it was). These freight cars were great to chase each other along the tops, having to jump from car to car, scurrying down the ladders and running along the tracks – up another ladder and now you would be behind your chaser. Yeaaaa – you got him!!! When shot, the dying scenes were something to behold, utter acting at its best! The longer it took you to die, the more you could make your ‘killer’ laugh! I am not sure where the Station Master was when we would have these fierce battles, sleeping perhaps, but every once in awhile he would ”wake up” – and we would run away, laughing because we had been so brave at both ‘running the tops of the cars’ and getting away from the Station Master. Thinking back now, with only about 10 boys in the whole town, obviously when we ran away, everyone knew who we were. (Chuckle)  Once far enough from the Station to regroup, we would then decide where our next ‘playground’ would be. The lucky part , although there were many slips, no one ever fell off one of the freight cars - but then again, who ever heard of The Lone Ranger (and Tonto too) falling off a train.             

                                                                                                                      

Lifebouy Soap

Of all the senses, smell can bring back more memories than any of the others. Whenever I would go to my Grandpa’s farm from about age 4 until 10 or 11, the first smell as you entered the house was Lifebuoy Soap. The wash stand was just inside the back door. I just loved that smell! My mother, perhaps because of price (I think lifebuoy would have been a cent or more than the other brands) never had lifebuoy in our house. I was never cleaner than when I visited Grampa. I loved washing my face using this fantastic smelling soap. On arriving for one of my many lengthy stays, the first thing I would do (after hugging the dog) was check and sees which colour the soap was - white or red. Not having running water, you would wash in a basin with cold water from a large jug that sat beside the sink. If you wanted warm water, you would take it from the reservoir on the wood burning kitchen stove. Lifebuoy is still sold today, but they have cut down on the smell (or perhaps it does not have the same attraction to an adult) - BUT every time I go down a supermarket soap isle - and see the Lifebuoy label - I am back at Grandpa’s scrubbing behind my ears and smelling 'oh so nice'.http://graphic-design.tjs-labs.com/show-picture?id=1062779059&size=FULL

That Wonderful Smell of Freshly Thawed Clothes

Wash day (usually a Monday, not sure why) was a square tub and a scrub board. First thing in the morning the wood burning cook stove would be stoked up high to heat up the water reservoir* and the various kettles and large pans filled with water on the stove top. Very hot water would be poured into the tub, and the clothes, towels, etc. would be scrubbed using a bar of laundry soap. The rule was ‘the hotter the water, the cleaner the clothes”. Once clean, you would dunk the clothes into another tub with cold rinse water, and then wring them out by hand.

I remember watching this, but never had to do it myself. When I was 7 we got a “real” washing machine (for the life of me, I do not know where we stored it) but on wash day it would be in the middle of the room. The tub part was made of wood staves (like a wine barrel) and the center agitator was turned by gears underneath the machine, which moved when you pushed and pulled a handle on the front. The agitator would go back and forth as you pulled the handle – the larger the load the harder it was to work that handle. You would think a 7 year old would be too young to take his turn pushing and pulling the handle – WRONG. As with all other daily chores, if you were able, you did it! We used Fels Naphtha bar soap (you would cut off slivers and put in the wash water). Some people would save up the little pieces of left over hand soap and put them in an old lard or syrup pail that they had put many holes in – they would then swirl the container around in the water until some suds appeared. I am not sure how cleansing this was for the clothes, but that is what was done. Once clean, you would put the wash through a hand cranked wringer (attached to the tub) into a rinse tub. After rinsing, you would again put them through the wringer and finally they were ready to hang outside to dry. Everyone’s yard had a clothes line and wedge type wooden pegs were used to hold the clothes on the line. During the summer months drying clothes was rather uneventful, but in the winter it was magic. We had 5 – 7 months of freezing weather (the reason for wooden clothes pegs – metal hinge types would have frozen together). The magic happened when, in the winter, you hung wet clothes out to dry and almost immediately, they would freeze. I am not sure exactly how we knew it was time to bring them back into the house – but in they came FROZEN STIFF (like carrying a sheet of cardboard), and once they thawed, they were dry! Now that is magic! And then - That Wonderful Smell of Freshly Thawed Clothes!

*Reservoir – was a built-in container on a wood burning cook stove that held about 2 gallons of water. The water would always be warm from the heat of the stove. There would be a dipper (ladle) near by for you to scoop water out into your wash basin, etc.

Baby Chicks Are Coming Tonght!

The arrival of the train from the big city was a reason for many of the townsfolk to gather at the station. Don’t forget this was before TV and the train arriving (3 times a week, if I remember correctly) was a great interruption of everyone’s daily and nightly routines. The train would arrive around 6 PM and usually have one coach car, a mail car, sometimes a freight car and the caboose. Most people came out of curiosity and, for some of the kids, to put pennies on the track (to the admonishment of most of the adults). It is amazing how thin a penny becomes when a huge steam locomotive runs over it. After the train pulled in to the station you would hear people remarking “look who just came home” or “wonder who the parcel from Sears is for?” The biggest turn-out for the train would be when word got out that a farmers baby chicks were arriving. Everyone would be gathered around waiting for the small 3 by 3 foot flat cardboard boxes containing the fluffy little (oh so little and oh so cute) chicks to be unloaded. If it was in the spring or fall when the weather was somewhat chilly, the farmers would quickly cover the boxes with blankets and hurriedly load them in their car or the cab of their truck. You had to be quick to get a glimpse – but everyone seemed to be a little bit happier on their walk back home.

I Get My Own Bedroom

When my Dad came home from the Army in 1945/46 our sleeping arrangement had to change. My Mom, sister and I could no longer share the same double bed. So, all of a sudden I would be getting my own bedroom - not bad for a one room house. Will we be building on to the house? Maybe we will be moving to a larger house? How will this work? Alas, the solution was a bunk bed pushed against the wall. I got the bottom bunk – with a curtain across – and that was my first ‘bedroom’. My older sister had the top bunk – also with a curtain and these remained our bedrooms for years

The Stranger Comes To Live With Us!

Our cook stove, which also was used to heat our small home, had a brick chimney with an opening under it that was about 5 feet from the floor. This area is where we would store the firewood. A chore shared by my sister and I, was to fill this with firewood every day. A strange man had just come to live with us (my father home from the army) and my first memory of him was a disagreement over whether I should help my sister bring in wood or not. I understand that it appeared I was not doing my ‘share’ of the chore, and this stranger told me to get busy and help her. My response, I am told (as I do not remember the words – but definitely remember the result) was ‘you do not tell me what to do MAN”. The next scene is vivid in my memory – of this ‘MAN’ chasing me across the back yard… a barbed wire fence ran across the back and I remember scrambling under the bottom wire of the fence - getting up running – thinking .. hah ‘that MAN will never catch me’. To this day I can still see, as I looked back the MAN at a full run, vaulting over the fence. Once caught it was ‘explained to me’ (in a way father’s of that era would) that he was indeed my FATHER, and that for the rest of my childhood, HE could and would tell me what to do.

MY DAD