TIMES GONE BY
I decided I would continue with stories of my young life and I hope they're not boring. Just seems like at this time it is nice to think of a more peaceful era when we were not bombarded with life-threatening issues on a daily basis. (Well, aside from WWII)
Besides owning and operating his feed store, my Daddy had a radio program on the local station, KIBL, where he reported the farm and ranch news. You could set your watch by my Daddy's habits. He got up at 4:30 a.m., made coffee and kept as quiet as possible so he wouldn't wake my Mother. He never closed a cabinet door all the way because he was afraid the sound would wake her. He left the house at 6:30 and went to the radio station which was just down the road from our house. He would talk about the price of feed and how much cattle and sheep were bringing on the market. He always talked about the weather and often forgot he was on the air and would say things like "We sure as hell need rain", or "These damn rising costs are going to kill the market". The FCC didn't pay much attention to a little low watt station called KIBL in South Texas in 1944, and listeners weren't offended because most of them talked like that anyway. However, when a novice announcer read that there was a lot of "orgasm" off the coast of Port Aransas, it may have been noticed. Some years later, when I would leave early in the morning to drive back to college, Daddy would wish me well from the radio. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling to hear him and receive his blessing.
As I told you before, we didn't have TV or internet or any of the stuff we have now, but we did have our radios. I used to sit in the living room by the fireplace with my grandmother and listen to the programs like "Stella Dallas", the "Gene Autry Show" or "Fibber McGee and Molly". "Fibber McGee" was her favorite, maybe because her closet looked sort of like theirs did, with everything tumbling out when she opened it. I have one like that now. On Sunday night after supper we sat around the living room again and listened to the "Texaco Hour" which played beautiful music.
I had to go to bed soon after that program and on cold nights after I had put on my soft flannel nightgown I would run and jump into the middle of bed in my unheated bedroom. (The fireplace was the only source of heat for the whole house, which, fortunately, was not very big.) I always felt secure and warm because the mattress was made of goose down and it sort of wrapped around me after I got in. The comforter was made of the same. Mama would call out, "Honey, are you ready?" and then she'd come in with two bricks that had been heated by the fireplace and wrapped in a towel. She placed these at my feet and I was set for a warm winter's night. She topped this all off with a heavy handmade quilt so the comforter wouldn't slide off during the night.
Morning brought another dash, back to the fireplace once more to stand first on one foot and then the other, while waiting for breakfast which usually consisted of oatmeal, hot chocolate and my grandmother's homemade bread. For a short while I would wait for the school bus out in front near the highway. My sense of smell has always been acute and the first thing I noticed was the mixture of odors on the kids that were already on the bus. They lived on the farms and ranches way down the road and had to be at the bus stop early so on cold mornings they smelled like kerosene from the heaters in their homes and that, mixed with the smell of bacon and eggs, was not pleasant to my senses. I say that I rode the bus for a short while because one day we were all laughing and playing around when some of the kids started throwing spear grass shoots. That was a miserable little weed that grew all over South Texas and you could throw it like a spear. Well, I had my big mouth open and a spear of that grass flew in and stuck in my throat. I thought I was going to choke to death. The bus driver managed to get it out but my throat was bleeding and it hurt like hell. That incident, coupled with the fact that I usually missed the bus, caused Mama to begin driving me to school. I think she was really glad when I got my driver's license at age 14 and could take myself to school.
My being able to drive brings me to a whole other chapter of my happy young life so I'll save that for later. Also have to check previous blogs to see if I'm repeating myself.
Hasta luego
Besides owning and operating his feed store, my Daddy had a radio program on the local station, KIBL, where he reported the farm and ranch news. You could set your watch by my Daddy's habits. He got up at 4:30 a.m., made coffee and kept as quiet as possible so he wouldn't wake my Mother. He never closed a cabinet door all the way because he was afraid the sound would wake her. He left the house at 6:30 and went to the radio station which was just down the road from our house. He would talk about the price of feed and how much cattle and sheep were bringing on the market. He always talked about the weather and often forgot he was on the air and would say things like "We sure as hell need rain", or "These damn rising costs are going to kill the market". The FCC didn't pay much attention to a little low watt station called KIBL in South Texas in 1944, and listeners weren't offended because most of them talked like that anyway. However, when a novice announcer read that there was a lot of "orgasm" off the coast of Port Aransas, it may have been noticed. Some years later, when I would leave early in the morning to drive back to college, Daddy would wish me well from the radio. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling to hear him and receive his blessing.
As I told you before, we didn't have TV or internet or any of the stuff we have now, but we did have our radios. I used to sit in the living room by the fireplace with my grandmother and listen to the programs like "Stella Dallas", the "Gene Autry Show" or "Fibber McGee and Molly". "Fibber McGee" was her favorite, maybe because her closet looked sort of like theirs did, with everything tumbling out when she opened it. I have one like that now. On Sunday night after supper we sat around the living room again and listened to the "Texaco Hour" which played beautiful music.
I had to go to bed soon after that program and on cold nights after I had put on my soft flannel nightgown I would run and jump into the middle of bed in my unheated bedroom. (The fireplace was the only source of heat for the whole house, which, fortunately, was not very big.) I always felt secure and warm because the mattress was made of goose down and it sort of wrapped around me after I got in. The comforter was made of the same. Mama would call out, "Honey, are you ready?" and then she'd come in with two bricks that had been heated by the fireplace and wrapped in a towel. She placed these at my feet and I was set for a warm winter's night. She topped this all off with a heavy handmade quilt so the comforter wouldn't slide off during the night.
Morning brought another dash, back to the fireplace once more to stand first on one foot and then the other, while waiting for breakfast which usually consisted of oatmeal, hot chocolate and my grandmother's homemade bread. For a short while I would wait for the school bus out in front near the highway. My sense of smell has always been acute and the first thing I noticed was the mixture of odors on the kids that were already on the bus. They lived on the farms and ranches way down the road and had to be at the bus stop early so on cold mornings they smelled like kerosene from the heaters in their homes and that, mixed with the smell of bacon and eggs, was not pleasant to my senses. I say that I rode the bus for a short while because one day we were all laughing and playing around when some of the kids started throwing spear grass shoots. That was a miserable little weed that grew all over South Texas and you could throw it like a spear. Well, I had my big mouth open and a spear of that grass flew in and stuck in my throat. I thought I was going to choke to death. The bus driver managed to get it out but my throat was bleeding and it hurt like hell. That incident, coupled with the fact that I usually missed the bus, caused Mama to begin driving me to school. I think she was really glad when I got my driver's license at age 14 and could take myself to school.
My being able to drive brings me to a whole other chapter of my happy young life so I'll save that for later. Also have to check previous blogs to see if I'm repeating myself.
Hasta luego
Yeah, I'd say the Depression and WWII were kind of big deals...
ReplyDeleteIt's wonderful how you had such loving parents who gave you such a good life!!