Stories from Youth
Big Rick and I were talking a bit ago. It bothers both of us that we are not young bucks, though we didn’t use that noun.
We started trading poor stories and honor stories.
Rick talked about the time when he was five. His aunt down in Lincolnton, GA was sick and his mother took the family’s only car down to care for her. That left his dad, his older brother and him to fend for themselves. On Friday after work, the three of them got on the bus and stated towards the home place. About Macon a guy got on who turned out to be less than sober. He was annoying, then more annoying. At a point somewhere near Dublin (Google it – one of the most desolate places in our fair state) the drunk guy was really bugging a lady, smooth guy that he was.
Rick’s dad walked up to the driver and told him to stop the bus. The driver said he couldn’t stop the bus, it was against the rules. “STOP THE BUS.” The driver complied with the request. Rick’s dad bum-rushed the guy off the bus in the middle of nowhere. His fellow passengers thanked him. There’s a second part to the story; but, since Rick won’t write for you all, you don’t get to read it.
That’s the honor part.
Here’s the poor part, kind of.
Rick calls his upbringing dirt poor. I’ve always said I grew up upper-lower class. North, South, same thing. Dirt poor is maybe the better phrase as there is nothing low about the way we were raised.
We didn’t have anything; but, we didn’t know it because no one had anything. I grew up with clean clothes and food. The clothes weren’t always new and the cuisine was not haute’.
I didn’t grow up in a demonstrative family. Kids did as they were told, often grudgingly, but they were bigger than we were.
I was clothed by my older cousins, my younger brothers got my outgrown clothes; but, now and again, us kids needed underwear, socks, a shirt or two. The family also needed blankets, sheets, kitchen utensils and so on.
I don’t remember the specific day or month or year, so the following is made up. The facts are close to the truth and the spirit is dead on.
“Kids, get in the car.” It was say 7:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. We piled in. Your immediate reaction would be to say, “Dave, why didn’t you say ‘where are we going?’” That wasn’t an option.
We pulled into the parking lot at the Sears store in, I think either Allen or Lincoln Park, Michigan. Whichever, it was Downriver, the not fancy part of the town.
The trip was as much outing as necessary shopping. We may have bought some socks, remember this is a bit of a compilation. Dad looked at Craftsman tools, I know none were bought. Mom looked at what moms looked at.
Then it happened. We came to the candy counter.
At this point in our story, I’ve just had a nagging thought. Have I written about this before? As it turns out, I have, here it is:
Value
I still like it. Someday I’ll tell you about the Flintstones, potato chips and Pepsi, assuming a word search doesn’t reveal that I’ve already written about them.
4 comments:
I clicked over and re-read the earlier story. Ya know Dave, sometimes the old stories, told again and again, are still the best. I think a whole hell of a lot of us out here, telling our stories via the blogs were dirt poor or pretty darned close to it growing up. I like to think it gives us a good sense of appreciation of what we had then to what we have today. I'm not much above where I was when I was a kid -still don't have much operating capitol (is that supposed to be with an "al" or an "ol" -seems my spelling rules got lost on me tonight) but there's still a roof over our heads here, more than enough food for the table, kids AND the adults too have plenty of clothes as well. Lots of hugs and kisses to go around to the little ones. Who needs more than that, really?
I figure you know by now I liked this(these) posts!
I agree, I was raised in a very modest life style. Living in Fl I was the only one of my friends who did not have AC, but my single mother of three spoiled us to the hilt on a teachers salary(by day) and a cleaning ladys salary(by night)
Although I lived in a home with out AC I was the only one of my friends who owned a Horse! We could not afford full board and we did not live near the barn so every day twice a day we drove 15 miles each way to feed the horses. Our equivalent to your Sears candy counter was the 7-11 conv. store around the corner from the barn. On really hot days after we had cleaned the stalls, rode the horses, and fed them we would stop and get a Slurpee! Ahhhh the best thing ever on a hot day. To this day I take my son on very hot days to a 7-11 for a wonderful cold slupee! Ain't life grand, and it can be so simple if we let it be.
I bought some Whoppers today.
They still rock!
"discretionary income has taken some of the adventure from my life."
Like the line from a novel. I love it.
And it is so true that as kids we accept. it is not until we get exposed to something different - people obviously poorer or richer than us - that we're aware of what we have or don't have.
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