 At 77 I am remembering things that used to be commonplace but that my children and grandchildren have never seen. If you were really sick the doctor would come to your house for $10. A boy who went to school without a pocket knife was lacking in status. Displaying a new knife was an occasion. Cap pistols Push mowers, which required real effort but no gasoline or constant adjustment. Howdy-Doody Tex Ritter and Gene Autry (but not Roy Rogers who was from Iowa and not a real cowboy). Saturday serials Sleeping on a pallet on the floor with cousins when families visited Buttermilk Ironing boards and the smell of freshly ironed stuff Ice cream that you had to crank a handle for Kids allowed to ride the fire trucks on holidays German lugers and Jap bayonets brought back by veterans Atomic bomb drills in school. We did not realise how stupid they were. 10 cent bus fare Honour system newspaper racks Polio patients and iron lungs. We engaged in massive battles of fly-swatting on the theory that flies had something to do with the epidemic. A real barber shop instead of a unisex beauty parlor. The sweet singing from a country Southern Methodist church. When there was only one family of immigrants in town and they were refugees from Communism, pleasant and interesting, and thankful to be here.
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