My niece, Andrea, has requested that I write some more stories about her dad, David. David is my brother who passed away a little over a year ago. He is also the youngest of my brothers and only two years older than I am.
This picture shows our parents in front of a very ugly Christmas tree, and was taken in our house at 2202 Main Street, in Anderson. The house is still there, and we pass it driving south from the library on the days I volunteer there. It still looks very much like it did 70 years ago when we moved into that house. We moved there from Marion where my dad had sold furniture for Sears Roebuck. He quit Sears because he got a job at Guide Lamp. World War II had started and Guide was making materials for the government. So many people were able to get jobs that had had no jobs during the depression.
Much of my dad's salary went to sent a dollar a week to many places where debts had piled up during the depression. Of course, as kids, we didn't know that. We were just thrilled that we had a yard with cherry trees small enough to climb, and grandparents who lived only three blocks away! After we moved, we had no car. But, as kids, we didn't worry about that either. I'm sure that it was either repossessed or sold to pay off debts. Anyway, our dad took the city bus to work and back home. David and I spent many an afternoon climbing and swinging in the cherry tree. But we knew that we had to listen for the bus that brought our dad home in the afternoon. He had forbidden our climbing after David had fallen one day and knocked out his breath . I think Mother was too busy to notice our climbing or enforce too many rules! She was a real softy, and we got away with many pranks until Daddy came home.
Our oldest brother, Jack, had built a soap box racer and competed when we lived in Marion. David and I loved it. We would take turns pushing each other up and down the sidewalk, back and forth to the corner and back. We thought we were really cool race drivers. I can still feel the hot sidewalks on my bare feet.
I think that once the unpaid bills were sufficiently paid off, we were able to get the first telephone we had since moving back to Anderson. I can still remember that telephone number. We were so excited! Our little house had only two bedrooms, and the four boys had the bedrooms, 2 to each room. Our parents had their bedroom in the dining room, and I had a cot in the corner of their room. The phone was placed on a bedside table by where Daddy slept. All the kids took turns those first weeks playing with the phone, listening to the dial tone, calling our grandma, while bouncing on the big bed. Dan was so excited that the first night he took the telephone book to read in bed before he went to sleep. Clyde and Jack teased him about this for the rest of his life. No good joke ever died in our family
Jack was in high school when we moved to Main St. I think his younger brothers and sister were a constant source of embarrassment. He was downtown one day with his teen- aged friends. They saw two boys on bikes who were searching store trash bins for cardboard boxes. They were laughing at these poor trash pickers. When the two boys rode off with their boxes, Jack realized that they were Dan and David. They were collecting boxes to build a "club house" in the back yard. Poor Jack - so humiliated.
A neighbor boy, Harold Thomas, lived three doors down from us. He was an only child, so he had every toy - even a great big sand box. David and I spent hours at his house building villages in Harold's sand box. One noon time I was home from school eating lunch. After lunch I went to Harold's and lost all track of time building houses in the sand box. When Mother finally realized where I was, I was a filthy, dirty mess. She had to give me a bath and mend a new dress for me to wear. I was LATE back to school. And, yes, you read this right. We ALL walked to Central Avenue School - no school buses. And the mothers were home to fix our lunches, so we had an hour to walk home for lunch. NOBODY ate at school. And, yes, all the girls had to wear dresses to school. Now, those were the days.
On my way back to school after lunch each day, I passed Wilding's neighborhood grocery at the corner of 23rd and Main. Our mother had a charge account at Wilding's. For a while, I had a really good thing going. I would stop each day after lunch and charge a Milky Way candy bar. Alas, Mrs. Wilding decided to check this out with Mother. I was BUSTED!
As far as school clothes were concerned, I realize now that I was comparatively lucky. David was at the tail end of all the four brothers, so he got the tail end of all the hand-me-down clothes. I can still see him in those faded striped tee shirts and striped socks. It is no wonder that his third grade teacher, Miss Bronnenberg, took him under her wing. In fact, I was soon under her wing, also. She always called me "Little Miss Muffet." She had certain students out to her house every year to go caroling and have cookies and hot chocolate. David and I got to go every year. We loved her little house, all decorated in Early American charm with its great big fireplace.
But, back to that ugly Christmas tree. There was no money to buy a tree that year until they were put on "Last Chance Sale" prices right before Christmas. I think the boys carried it home from the A & P Market. When it was finally set up in the living room, I cried because I didn't think it was tall enough (not because it was ugly.) This, despite the fact that Daddy had just cut off about six inches to get it into the living room - another one of those "never die" stories that I had to hear every Christmas forever after.
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