NIFTY FIFTIES
Trying this again because of trouble with the font. Added a bit more
I mentioned getting my driver's license when I was 14 which means I have been driving for a helluva long time. At the risk of breaking a lucky streak, I will tell you that I have gotten only one ticket in all thee years and that was for driving 4 miles over the speed limit in a school zone in New Orleans.
That aside, being able to drive was a monumental privilege. I was the only one of my friends who had a license or access to a car, so you can guess I was quite popular. That bothered me so that on occasion I would tell my friends that I couldn't use the car just to see if I would still be invited to join them. It worked out okay because we still did stuff together, just not from my car. There wasn't much to do in my home town outside of school activities so we had to get creative. Sometimes we would pick another car at random to follow wherever it went but that wasn't too exciting. Then we'd make a short foray over the tracks to the "wrong side of town" just to see what was happening, but we'd get scared and scoot back to our neighborhoods. Sometimes we would park across the road from the "holy roller church" just to hear and watch them, which was easy because no one had air-conditioning and they left their doors open. I know that term for those religious zealots is not politically correct, but it was what it was and we didn't know any different in those days. Anyway, we discovered that they did literally roll down the aisles caught up in a frenetic form of worship. We also had races with the guys who had cars and that was great fun, at least for me, because I loved to drive fast and being a tomboy, it didn't scare me. Scared the heck out of my girlfriends who chose to ride with me though. There were plenty of country roads to race on where we had no chance of running into anyone or getting found by the police. The only things we had to watch our for were deer and javelina hogs. Obviously my parents didn't know about my racing.
In the 50s when I was in high school, there were special occasions such as the Junior and Senior Proms. Now THAT was something! We decorated the gym with a special theme and the one I remember so well was a South Pacific setting called "Island Paradise". We decorated with tin foil palm trees, papier mache rocks, made little islands off to the side of the dance floor and strung colored lights across the large room. Our gym had many functions since we didn't hae separate buildings for certain functions. It could be a gym, an indoor tennis court, an auditorium, a theater, or a in the case of the prom, a dance floor. There were no permanent seats so we had plenty of good wooden dance floor to use. It was the one time we were allowed to wear shoes on that floor.
One thing that made proms so exciting was the fact that we got to "dress up". Mama and I went to Corpus Christi to pick out the material for my prom formal which would be sewn by a talented seamstress in Beeville. Mother knew how to sew but gave it up when she tried to make a formal for me from slippery green satin. It kept slipping off the sewing table and it had been cursed at so much by her that I never did look very good in it.
Back to the prom: it was the highlight of the Spring semester for us and we all looked fabulous. Even those awkward teenage boys looked good in their rented tuxedos. They wore uncomfortable, tight, shiny black shoes and we were teetering around on new high heels happily wearing formals made with net over net over taffeta over crinoline with strapless bodices of brocade satin showing bare shoulders that usually saw light only at the pool or beach and precariously pinned corsages. I had taught my date who was a lifelong friend to dance so we really had a great time. In those days there was a tradition that many students would go to Port Aransas after the prom, but I really didn't want to because I had heard that it got kinda wild there....so Mama had arranged for my best friends to come to our house after the dance and she served a great buffet and punch. It was a perfect top-off after that wonderful night.
I mentioned getting my driver's license when I was 14 which means I have been driving for a helluva long time. At the risk of breaking a lucky streak, I will tell you that I have gotten only one ticket in all thee years and that was for driving 4 miles over the speed limit in a school zone in New Orleans.
That aside, being able to drive was a monumental privilege. I was the only one of my friends who had a license or access to a car, so you can guess I was quite popular. That bothered me so that on occasion I would tell my friends that I couldn't use the car just to see if I would still be invited to join them. It worked out okay because we still did stuff together, just not from my car. There wasn't much to do in my home town outside of school activities so we had to get creative. Sometimes we would pick another car at random to follow wherever it went but that wasn't too exciting. Then we'd make a short foray over the tracks to the "wrong side of town" just to see what was happening, but we'd get scared and scoot back to our neighborhoods. Sometimes we would park across the road from the "holy roller church" just to hear and watch them, which was easy because no one had air-conditioning and they left their doors open. I know that term for those religious zealots is not politically correct, but it was what it was and we didn't know any different in those days. Anyway, we discovered that they did literally roll down the aisles caught up in a frenetic form of worship. We also had races with the guys who had cars and that was great fun, at least for me, because I loved to drive fast and being a tomboy, it didn't scare me. Scared the heck out of my girlfriends who chose to ride with me though. There were plenty of country roads to race on where we had no chance of running into anyone or getting found by the police. The only things we had to watch our for were deer and javelina hogs. Obviously my parents didn't know about my racing.
In the 50s when I was in high school, there were special occasions such as the Junior and Senior Proms. Now THAT was something! We decorated the gym with a special theme and the one I remember so well was a South Pacific setting called "Island Paradise". We decorated with tin foil palm trees, papier mache rocks, made little islands off to the side of the dance floor and strung colored lights across the large room. Our gym had many functions since we didn't hae separate buildings for certain functions. It could be a gym, an indoor tennis court, an auditorium, a theater, or a in the case of the prom, a dance floor. There were no permanent seats so we had plenty of good wooden dance floor to use. It was the one time we were allowed to wear shoes on that floor.
One thing that made proms so exciting was the fact that we got to "dress up". Mama and I went to Corpus Christi to pick out the material for my prom formal which would be sewn by a talented seamstress in Beeville. Mother knew how to sew but gave it up when she tried to make a formal for me from slippery green satin. It kept slipping off the sewing table and it had been cursed at so much by her that I never did look very good in it.
Back to the prom: it was the highlight of the Spring semester for us and we all looked fabulous. Even those awkward teenage boys looked good in their rented tuxedos. They wore uncomfortable, tight, shiny black shoes and we were teetering around on new high heels happily wearing formals made with net over net over taffeta over crinoline with strapless bodices of brocade satin showing bare shoulders that usually saw light only at the pool or beach and precariously pinned corsages. I had taught my date who was a lifelong friend to dance so we really had a great time. In those days there was a tradition that many students would go to Port Aransas after the prom, but I really didn't want to because I had heard that it got kinda wild there....so Mama had arranged for my best friends to come to our house after the dance and she served a great buffet and punch. It was a perfect top-off after that wonderful night.
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