It was the best of times, it was the worst of times....oops, sorry. That's the start of another short story....about the French Revolution....and I didn't write it. My stories are about the best and worst times of growing up in the 50's and 60's. There were very few "worst times" but a whole lot of "best times". I'm sorry for anyone who didn't get to grow up in that time frame.
I was out for my daily 1-1/4 mile walk today and got to thinking about how much excitement grew with us kids as we knew shopping day in downtown was coming up. If we still did our shopping this way now we would be considered old fashioned, out of sync old people but I just bet we would have more fun. We didn't get to downtown as often as some of my rich cousins living over in River Oaks and Lake Worth. Downtown for them was just down the road on Jacksboro Highway straight into the city where it turned into Henderson Street. The drive for them was accomplished by one of two wonderful aunts who took the time to learn how to drive when they were teens.
My mom never took that time needed to learn to drive. When we lived in River Oaks this wasn't a problem because either Aunt Ramona or Aunt Cricket would always let us tag along wherever they went. Then my dad decided to do us a favor and move us out to Hurst, or as family members referred to it, "the sticks". He wanted us to have more open country to roam around in without fear of getting run over on those busy streets all the sane people lived on. There was nothing.....nothing in Hurst at the time but a grocery store, drug store, doctors office, and the dime store. All these establishments were centrally located out on old Highway 183. We did have lots of safe areas to play and explore but we did not have access to wheels and a licensed driver to take us anywhere else unless my dad was off work....and in a willing mood. These two things didn't merge very often but not because daddy was an ogre. He just worked so much when he finally had some time off he wanted to spend it at home and not "galavanting all over town". This was his favorite phrase, "I don't want to go galavanting all over town for crying out loud!" He was a funny guy.
I have gotten so far off the subject now I've got to stop to remember what I was originally writing about.....hmmm...give me a minute. Let's go to the kitchen for a snack..............well, that was a bust. Debbie really needs to go grocery shopping. But I did remember my story.
Going downtown in the 50's was exciting for just about everyone in the family. There were so many things to see like the gospel preachers yelling to us about Hell, the air vents on the sidewalks where hot air would swoosh up on us from some mysterious place, the air-conditioned drug stores where you could get an ice cream cone for a nickel, and most important of all, the old man with no legs selling pencils. He got around by using his hands like feet. He was always, always there. Daddy never failed to buy a pencil from him but then he always gave the pencil back. Oh sure, daddy grumbled about having to be downtown instead of home but that didn't stop him from shopping as hard as the rest of us. Most of the memories I have though of downtown were before we moved to Hurst and we would hitch a ride with one of our aunts. I was so small back then that we had a protocol we had to follow. Cindy had to walk right next to Mama and I had to follow close behind while holding on to the hem of her dress. That was evidently a common way to keep the kids in tow back then. Many a big sale at Leonard's Dept store was spent holding on to mama's hem while making beady eyes at some other kid holding onto his mama's hem. If we let go of that hem all was lost. And that happened one day.
I loved going up the escalators in the stores to the second and third floors. The windows up there were always open and you could look down on the people on the sidewalks. Great fun, but mama wasn't always shopping next to a window. Usually the really big sales were closer to the escalators and far away from those wonderful open windows. One day she stopped next to a window to look at some outfit she would love to have but never buy. I got busy looking out the window and let go of that hem. I had the best time at the window dropping little pieces of trash found on the floor. Feathers were my favorite although they were few and far between. Anyway, I eventually realized my right hand was hemless and the panic started to rise. I looked around and mama and Cindy were gone! I held the scream in until I had a chance to do a reconnaissance of the area and luckily spotted my hem. I ran over and grabbed on to the hem and held on tight for about fifteen seconds. That's how long it took me to realize the hem I was holding did not belong to my mama. The scream came then. I yelled like a girl which brought attention to the owner of the hem I was holding. She screamed even louder and pulled her hem away from my sweaty little fingers. That made me scream with a new and improved, blood curdling scream previously unused by me. I was awash in unfamiliar hems and scared out of my mind. Fortunately, mama found me pretty quick since I had stopped all activity on the second floor of Leonard's. She put her hem back in my hand and told me not to ever do that again...I did not.
As I grew a little older and the trips to downtown were less frequent I was allowed more freedom during shopping day. I could wander around as long as I stayed on the same floor and didn't drink from the pale green water fountain. (That's another story too sad to tell.) I did use the green fountain once though out of curiosity. The water tasted the very same as the white one next to it but some old man really got on to me so I never did it again. He scared me so bad I wished I had mama's hem to hang on to. It didn't take long for the appeal of shopping to grow stale. You can only watch women look at clothes for so long before you want to run out the door screaming for mercy. The attraction of open windows disappeared after some fool introduced air-conditioning to the better stores. There was no appeal to downtown shopping anymore. That is, until Leonard's opened their world famous discount basement store. That's a story for another time but I will say the last time I visited that basement I was grown with a family of my own. A family member who will remain unnamed absolutely had to visit this famous basement while he was in town. Like I said, another time....
