The long, cold, harsh, Colorado winter had passed and the springtime was beginning to blossom in the small town of Craig. I was not much different than any other boy in the 60's, and I could not wait to get outside and enjoy the bright springtime sun. My best friend Andy lived several miles east of town. So we didn't have much time to explore together unless we planned ahead. On this particular spring day, I buddied up with a school mate named Joe and we were off to find something adventurous to do. I'm not sure if we were headed for Sherwood Forest or to the playground, but ultimately we ended up at the Craig City Park.
It was still early spring, so the grass was still brown, and the trees were still bare. Under the bridge of the main drag Victory Way, there was still several feet of ice that had built up under Fortification Creek bridge where the creek flowed under Victory Way. The creek was very high with the onset of warm weather and the snow pack rapidly melting in the mountains above Craig. There was no shortage of snow in the rugged Colorado Rocky Mountains. Throughout most of the year, Fortification Creek was merely a slow moving trickle of water about 6 feet wide and about a foot deep. In the spring however, it became a monster of muddy water about 20 feet across, and was several feet deep where it flowed through the Craig City Park. Certainly, it was no place for a couple of elementary school boys to be playing. But we played at the park all the time. For that matter, we played near the creek all the time. Today seemed no different to us than any other day, and besides, we had been bottled up in the house all winter, and this was our chance to explore.
To make matters worse, or more adventurous, if you're one of those boys, there was a shortcut across the creek. Yes, about 100 yards North of the Victory way bridge, there were two water lines that crossed the creek from East to West. We crossed the creek there all the time. It was really simple, and kind of fun, because there were 2 pipes that went across the creek, and they were right next to each other. In fact, they were attached to each other by braces that made them quite secure. One of the pipes was about
6 inches in diameter, and the other was maybe 3 inches in diameter. So, all it took was a little balance and it was quite simple to cross the creek by shuffling across the 2 pipes in our cheap 1960 sneakers.
This day, probably would not have been any different from any of the other crossings, except for these large sections of logs that were floating down the creek that day. Each section was about 4 foot in length and maybe 2 feet in diameter. They were floating by about one every 200 yards or so. We watched them float by for a while and then one of us (not sure which stupid kid it was) got this brilliant idea that we were going to stop one of these Lincoln logs. I have no idea why, but I guess we thought it would be cool.
So we rummaged around and found a large tree limb to use to stop the log so we could inspect the log?? I, being the braver of the two boys (hey, it's my story)had the stick in hand, standing on two narrow pipes, over a rushing springtime creek, patiently waiting for my first victim log to arrive.
Here it comes. It was meandering down the creek with no particular purpose. I braced myself to stop the log. I studied the laws of inertia in the 6th grade. Trouble was, I was now in the 4th grade. To make a long story short, as soon as my stick hit that log, my butt hit the water. That log knocked me off the pipe and into the raging creek in a micro-second. Oh, did I tell you I learned to swim in the 6th grade too.
So, here I am...thrashing around in a raging muddy creek, unable to swim, and an ice flow about 100 yards away that was forcing all the water under the ice and under the bridge. I came up out of the water fighting for my life. There was the log. Grab on to the log Clint, grab it! I tried grabbing the log, but all it did was spin, round and round. Panic abounding, I was thrashing, spinning the log and rapidly floating downstream toward the ice trap. I distinctly remember Joe running along the East shore of the creek yelling something at me. A video of my face would have been priceless I'm sure!
This is the part of the story where I say, God must have had a plan for my life, because I really should have died that day. I couldn't swim. The creek was about 75 yards away from pushing me under the water and ice and taking away any chances of breathing any air for another 100 yards at least. The only thing close was a spinning log that was of no use whatsoever. Somehow, I'm sure by the grace of God, I was able to grasp a bush that was near the bank and pull myself to safety.
Soaking wet. Thankful to be alive. And a lot wiser about inertia. Thank you Jesus!
It truly is a wonder that more kids don't die in childhood. I know I should have died that day. We went home and I changed into some dry clothes.
What should we do next?
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
It's a heartache
There are not too many songs that I can hear on the radio that take me back to a certain place and time in my life. There are a few. Okie from Muskogee for example takes me back to 6th grade in Compton California. My first record, my first record player. God I'm old.
One of the strongest songs that will take me back is Bonnie Tyler's "It's a Heartache". I go straight to Billings Montana about 1978 when I was working for Moldy Gold Dairy (Meadow Gold). The song was a hit. I liked it. And they played it on the radio all the time that year. So whenever I hear it, I see myself in a restaurant near the Metra, delivering milk.
A one hit wonder and a lonely single guy. But I could lift 18 gallons of milk! Maybe that's why I have back problems!!
One of the strongest songs that will take me back is Bonnie Tyler's "It's a Heartache". I go straight to Billings Montana about 1978 when I was working for Moldy Gold Dairy (Meadow Gold). The song was a hit. I liked it. And they played it on the radio all the time that year. So whenever I hear it, I see myself in a restaurant near the Metra, delivering milk.
A one hit wonder and a lonely single guy. But I could lift 18 gallons of milk! Maybe that's why I have back problems!!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Green Street
Of all the streets, in all the towns across America, I found myself remembering Green Street. We never lived on Green Street. It was mainly a residential street in the small town of Craig. We didn't have any friends or family that lived on Green Street. Yet, here I am making a post entitled 'Green Street'!
Green Street ran North from Victory Way, on the West side of Craig. It was only 2 blocks East of Steele Street where we had lived during most of my Elementary School days. The first block, closest to Victory Way (the main East/West drag), was commercial property. The next couple of blocks were home to some churches. Next came an Elementary School, and the rest of Green Street was residential. Green Street was flat and level until just passed the Elementary School, but from there it began a slow steady incline all the way to the North end of Green Street. At the end, was the landmark overlooking the city of Craig, the Sandrocks.
View Larger Map
Everyone called them just that, 'the Sandrocks'. They sat high above Craig overlooking the small town below. They were a great place for kids to climb around and explore. Though, now that I think about it...incredibly dangerous. But Elementary age kids don't think about danger, we thought about having fun. The Sandrocks were called sand rocks because the rock was very soft, like sand. It was incredible easy to carve your name, or anything else' into the soft rock and 'leave your mark' as it were in the cliffs above town. Unless time has taken it's toll, on the soft rock, perhaps my name is still etched in stone above the small town of Craig. I never fell off the cliffs above town; thus I'm able to write this here blog today. Still it's a wonder I'm here! I am here...right?
Somewhere just below the Sandrocks was a house that belonged to one of the teachers at my Elementary School. I remember one spring, near the end of the school year, my class took the day off from schooling; we walked up the hill in the springtime sun, and had a playday at the teachers house. That house was on Green Street near the top of the hill. It had a large back yard, and the thing I remember most about that day was playing 'Red Rover' in the back yard with my class. Have you ever played Red Rover? The class divided into two groups, each side forming a line by holding hands. Then, the one side would scream, "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Clinton right over"! Then the person they called would run toward the line of kids, looking for the weakest link (a couple of girls no doubt) and try to bust through the line. If the runner was able to break through, he could take someone back to his side to be on his team. If he didn't break through, he had to stay on the side that held the line. I had the best time. I still remember that day.
We would often ride our bikes up Green Street to the top of the hill to play on the Sandrocks. In order to make it to the top, we had to pedal our bikes with all our might to make it up the hill. One time, during a pedalling frenzy...the chain on my bike snapped. Clint had a major wipe-out in the middle of Green Street. I landed on my face on the asphalt. Major road rash on my face. Perhaps that explains my disfigured facial features. Guess what...school picture time!! The photographer did have me turn my face to the side...a semi profile shot. It mostly covered the huge scab on my face.
Also, on Green Street was my elementary school, Sunset Elementary.
View Larger Map
I attended Sunset from Kindergarten through the fourth grade. I had some good friends there. A few names come to mind: Andy Pleasant, Kent Cook, Tony Balleck, JD Jepkema, Chuck Steele, David Livingston, Steven Straight, Ann Stalen, Elaine McCandless, Edie Wilkins, Cindy Cook, and Nina Bishop. I remember playing kick ball at recess. That was always fun. As previously mentioned, I liked to sneak off the playground and go to the A&W (also on Green Street. Here is the A&W today, it's modernized a bit:
View Larger Map
Just South of the school, was a church.
View Larger Map
I remember that church for one thing. It was in front of that school that myself and another kid (can't remember who)confronted another kid on a bike. I honestly can't remember why we were mad at him,but the kid I was with pushed him. When he pushed him, he dropped his school books in the gutter and got them all wet. Next day...we were in big trouble at school. My teacher, Mrs Schmidt, and the other kids teacher were both going to spank us. The whole school feared the paddle of the other teacher. It was a long plank with holes drilled in it to cut down on the wind Resistance. Mrs. Schmidt was a tiny little woman, not much bigger than her students. She spanked with a little ping pong paddle. I'm here to tell you, the little ping pong paddle hurt the worst. OUCH!
Farther South was the Lutheran Church.
View Larger Map
My mother started attending this Church while we were in Craig after she met Ruth Pleasant. Ruth was attending the Church and so we started attending it too. At that time it was just the small building you see on the left with the zig-zag roof. Funny thing, I don't remember a lot about our attendance there. I must not have listened to the sermons. But how many 4th graders do? I did always remember one thing. When I got logical (that's a joke Spock), I asked the Pastor a question. I can remember what the Pastor looked like, but I can't remember his name. Anyway, I asked him: "If God created the world, and all that is in it...who created God?" Pretty Deep Thoughts huh? But I always remember his answer, it must have been a good one. He took off his wedding band and said, "You see this ring?" Then he took his finger and ran it around the circumference of the ring. "God is like this ring, He is eternal; he has no beginning and no end, he is everlasting." I'm sure those weren't the exact words, but that was the gist of it, complete with an object lesson. But it satisfied the inquisitive little 4th grader.
Well, there you have it, the bulk of my Green Street memories, save one. I suppose, in life, we all have done something we wish we could take back. You say: "I bet you'd like to take back that bike crash huh?" Or "How about taking back that pushing incident in front of the church, that would save you a spanking?!" No, those would not be the events I would like to take back. Here is the site of the old Safeway store in Craig. Perhaps if we could make it so the whole Safeway store never existed! That would probably have made a dramatic change to the life of all the Gardner's. Since that is not really an option, there was one other incident. I was at the Safeway store one day and was caught shoplifting. The Safeway store sat here where the Craig Library now sits:
View Larger Map
Stupid poor fourth grader living with a single mother trying her hardest to make ends meet. So, I must have wanted something my mother could not afford, and so I tried to steal it. I sit here now as an adult, and think about my Mother having to come down to the store and pick me up. How humiliating it must have been for my Mother to walk into that Safeway store. My Mother endured some hard times. That was no doubt a difficult day for her. If I could, I would take it back a hundred times. I'm so sorry Mom.
For some reason, Green Street holds a lot of memories for me...both good and bad. For the A&W hot dogs, to the danger of the Sandrocks. From a fun game of Red Rover, to the crash and burn bicycle wreck. From the exciting game of Kick ball, to the spanking by two teachers. From the eternal lesson from my Pastor, to the shameful theft at the Safeway Store. Highs and Lows...I guess, in the end, that is what life is all about.
Green Street ran North from Victory Way, on the West side of Craig. It was only 2 blocks East of Steele Street where we had lived during most of my Elementary School days. The first block, closest to Victory Way (the main East/West drag), was commercial property. The next couple of blocks were home to some churches. Next came an Elementary School, and the rest of Green Street was residential. Green Street was flat and level until just passed the Elementary School, but from there it began a slow steady incline all the way to the North end of Green Street. At the end, was the landmark overlooking the city of Craig, the Sandrocks.
View Larger Map
Everyone called them just that, 'the Sandrocks'. They sat high above Craig overlooking the small town below. They were a great place for kids to climb around and explore. Though, now that I think about it...incredibly dangerous. But Elementary age kids don't think about danger, we thought about having fun. The Sandrocks were called sand rocks because the rock was very soft, like sand. It was incredible easy to carve your name, or anything else' into the soft rock and 'leave your mark' as it were in the cliffs above town. Unless time has taken it's toll, on the soft rock, perhaps my name is still etched in stone above the small town of Craig. I never fell off the cliffs above town; thus I'm able to write this here blog today. Still it's a wonder I'm here! I am here...right?
Somewhere just below the Sandrocks was a house that belonged to one of the teachers at my Elementary School. I remember one spring, near the end of the school year, my class took the day off from schooling; we walked up the hill in the springtime sun, and had a playday at the teachers house. That house was on Green Street near the top of the hill. It had a large back yard, and the thing I remember most about that day was playing 'Red Rover' in the back yard with my class. Have you ever played Red Rover? The class divided into two groups, each side forming a line by holding hands. Then, the one side would scream, "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Clinton right over"! Then the person they called would run toward the line of kids, looking for the weakest link (a couple of girls no doubt) and try to bust through the line. If the runner was able to break through, he could take someone back to his side to be on his team. If he didn't break through, he had to stay on the side that held the line. I had the best time. I still remember that day.
We would often ride our bikes up Green Street to the top of the hill to play on the Sandrocks. In order to make it to the top, we had to pedal our bikes with all our might to make it up the hill. One time, during a pedalling frenzy...the chain on my bike snapped. Clint had a major wipe-out in the middle of Green Street. I landed on my face on the asphalt. Major road rash on my face. Perhaps that explains my disfigured facial features. Guess what...school picture time!! The photographer did have me turn my face to the side...a semi profile shot. It mostly covered the huge scab on my face.
Also, on Green Street was my elementary school, Sunset Elementary.
View Larger Map
I attended Sunset from Kindergarten through the fourth grade. I had some good friends there. A few names come to mind: Andy Pleasant, Kent Cook, Tony Balleck, JD Jepkema, Chuck Steele, David Livingston, Steven Straight, Ann Stalen, Elaine McCandless, Edie Wilkins, Cindy Cook, and Nina Bishop. I remember playing kick ball at recess. That was always fun. As previously mentioned, I liked to sneak off the playground and go to the A&W (also on Green Street. Here is the A&W today, it's modernized a bit:
View Larger Map
Just South of the school, was a church.
View Larger Map
I remember that church for one thing. It was in front of that school that myself and another kid (can't remember who)confronted another kid on a bike. I honestly can't remember why we were mad at him,but the kid I was with pushed him. When he pushed him, he dropped his school books in the gutter and got them all wet. Next day...we were in big trouble at school. My teacher, Mrs Schmidt, and the other kids teacher were both going to spank us. The whole school feared the paddle of the other teacher. It was a long plank with holes drilled in it to cut down on the wind Resistance. Mrs. Schmidt was a tiny little woman, not much bigger than her students. She spanked with a little ping pong paddle. I'm here to tell you, the little ping pong paddle hurt the worst. OUCH!
Farther South was the Lutheran Church.
View Larger Map
My mother started attending this Church while we were in Craig after she met Ruth Pleasant. Ruth was attending the Church and so we started attending it too. At that time it was just the small building you see on the left with the zig-zag roof. Funny thing, I don't remember a lot about our attendance there. I must not have listened to the sermons. But how many 4th graders do? I did always remember one thing. When I got logical (that's a joke Spock), I asked the Pastor a question. I can remember what the Pastor looked like, but I can't remember his name. Anyway, I asked him: "If God created the world, and all that is in it...who created God?" Pretty Deep Thoughts huh? But I always remember his answer, it must have been a good one. He took off his wedding band and said, "You see this ring?" Then he took his finger and ran it around the circumference of the ring. "God is like this ring, He is eternal; he has no beginning and no end, he is everlasting." I'm sure those weren't the exact words, but that was the gist of it, complete with an object lesson. But it satisfied the inquisitive little 4th grader.
Well, there you have it, the bulk of my Green Street memories, save one. I suppose, in life, we all have done something we wish we could take back. You say: "I bet you'd like to take back that bike crash huh?" Or "How about taking back that pushing incident in front of the church, that would save you a spanking?!" No, those would not be the events I would like to take back. Here is the site of the old Safeway store in Craig. Perhaps if we could make it so the whole Safeway store never existed! That would probably have made a dramatic change to the life of all the Gardner's. Since that is not really an option, there was one other incident. I was at the Safeway store one day and was caught shoplifting. The Safeway store sat here where the Craig Library now sits:
View Larger Map
Stupid poor fourth grader living with a single mother trying her hardest to make ends meet. So, I must have wanted something my mother could not afford, and so I tried to steal it. I sit here now as an adult, and think about my Mother having to come down to the store and pick me up. How humiliating it must have been for my Mother to walk into that Safeway store. My Mother endured some hard times. That was no doubt a difficult day for her. If I could, I would take it back a hundred times. I'm so sorry Mom.
For some reason, Green Street holds a lot of memories for me...both good and bad. For the A&W hot dogs, to the danger of the Sandrocks. From a fun game of Red Rover, to the crash and burn bicycle wreck. From the exciting game of Kick ball, to the spanking by two teachers. From the eternal lesson from my Pastor, to the shameful theft at the Safeway Store. Highs and Lows...I guess, in the end, that is what life is all about.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Craig's City Park
Craig had one main city park. It was near the Liquor store where where Andy and I would cash in our treasure of empty bottles. The park was long and narrow and ran along the west side of Fortification Creek. Fortification Creek ran through the east side of Craig. I remember several things about the park from my childhood.
I remember there was a clubhouse of sorts that was located near the south end of the park. The clubhouse is no longer there today according to the Google street view program. It looks like a concrete slab is all that is left of the old clubhouse.
See the slab out there in the grass?
View Larger Map
But that's typical for Craig (run down or no longer there). The clubhouse, as I remember it, was just a large one room cabin structure about 30 feet wide and maybe 60 feet long. It had a front door and was just a large big open room. I think people could rent it for dances or meetings, etc. For some reason, I can't really remember why, every time I think of that clubhouse, I think of an old Smothers Brothers song about a woman who had a map of the world painted on her body. And the part of the song I always think of is the part that talks about 'Greece on her knees'. La la la..."and on her knees was Grease....(laugh) Greece on her knees!". Yes, I realize it sounds dumb, but perhaps if you could hear the whole song, it would be funnier. Or perhaps if you were 10 years old it would be funnier. The Smothers Brothers were classic; and they were funny to adults as well as kids. I still don't know why I think of that song whenever I think of that clubhouse. I did attend some event there one night. I remember being in there when it was full of people. I remember the open door, and some people loitering outside. Perhaps they were playing that song while I was there. Not sure.
Her eyes were Siam
Her nose was Hindustan
And on her knees was Greece
(grease on her knees)
Her back was Brazil
Her chest was Bunker Hill
Her hips they were Con-stan-ti-no-po-ple
Just then, I saw my wife
And to avoid a future strife
I let the rest of the world go by
Craig, like many towns across America had a Chamber of Commerce office that was in a Railroad Car. The Craig Chamber Train Car was located at the South end of the Park at Victory Way. It is still there today:
View Larger Map
A little North of the clubhouse was the City Swimming Pool. We went there a few times in the summer and would go swimming. I could not swim. so I would stay in the shallow end, or hold on to the side if I went near a deeper section.
Craig Pool:
View Larger Map
Behind the pool was the playground area. The modern parks have a small little section of the park that is usually enclosed by sidewalk and filled with wood chips or soft Pea-gravel. Thus protecting the little children from hurting themselves if they fall. Craig's playground area had no soft wood chips or pea-gravel. Just hard dirt area and the play area was spread out over a larger area. The park had a nice merry-go-round, teeter-totter, tall slide, swings, monkey bars, etc, I especially remember the slide. It was a tall slide, about 10 feet tall. A long slick metal slide that was great for sliding. One time, while visiting the park, it must have been busy. I say that because the line to 'ride the slide' was long. Kids were standing on the ladder waiting for their turn to slide down the ladder. Well, it became my turn to slide down the slide and I climbed into the slide position at the top of the slide and was ready to make my run. But there was someone ahead of me that had stopped midway down the slide. I don't know if they were scared or playing around or what. But the kid behind me was upset that I was not sliding down the slide and so he pushed me. He must have pushed pretty hard because I did not go down the slide...I went off the edge of the slide and down to the ground. It knocked the wind out of me. I don't remember all the other times I must have went down that slide. But I remember that time. I can still remember that feeling of having the wind knocked out of me. Gasping for air and not being able to breathe. I have no idea who had stopped ahead of me, or who pushed me, but I will never forget that awful feeling.
I also remember the park area.
View Larger Map
Surrounded by tall trees. No grass, just hard ground. The area was shaded, with playground equipment dotting the playground area. It's hard to explain, but I can close my eyes and remember the 'feeling of being there'. The smell, the shade, the sound of the kids playing, the agony of defeat (when you get pushed off the slide).
In the cold Craig winters, they would flood the area near the playground and make a big skating rink right in the middle of the park. I was never a skater, but it was still cool that they would do that. Lots of people (who had ice skates) would go down to the park and ice skate in the winter.
At the north end of the park, there was a road that crossed the creek, There was also a foot bridge that crossed the creek and opened up into the playground area.
View Larger Map
There were picnic tables and a parking area in the same area. On the North side of that street (I think it was 7th street) was a unmaintained area that ran North along the creek for some distance. We called it Sherwood Forest.
View Larger Map
(Funny...it seemed more wooded in my memory)
I don't know if that was the official name of the area, but that is what everyone called it. It was cool. Shaded by tall trees, covered by weeds and bushes. There were little dirt walking and riding trails that had been formed over time. Some of the trails were right next to the creek. Other trails would just wind around through the wooded area with no particular destination designed. I remember that one of the trails was so close to the bank that if a person fell off the trail, they would fall into the creek. It was like a cliff scene on a winding wagon road, only it was a walking trail. On the west side, the bank went straight up about 6 feet. Then the trail about a foot wide. Then a 4 foot drop into the creek. I remember we could not ride our bikes on that trail because the side of the bank was too close to the handlebars. We spent a lot of time in Sherwood Forest. Most of the times were fun, but one time I remember we met 3 kids that were evidently looking for trouble. I can't remember what happened, but I remember Andy got in a fist fight with one of them. I must have stood back hoping that I would not have to fight too. I was not a fighter...I was a chicken.
Well, that is the Craig Park. I have other Park stories. but will save that for a later date. Remember: Play Hard, but don't take a plunge off the slide...it hurts big time.
I remember there was a clubhouse of sorts that was located near the south end of the park. The clubhouse is no longer there today according to the Google street view program. It looks like a concrete slab is all that is left of the old clubhouse.
See the slab out there in the grass?
View Larger Map
But that's typical for Craig (run down or no longer there). The clubhouse, as I remember it, was just a large one room cabin structure about 30 feet wide and maybe 60 feet long. It had a front door and was just a large big open room. I think people could rent it for dances or meetings, etc. For some reason, I can't really remember why, every time I think of that clubhouse, I think of an old Smothers Brothers song about a woman who had a map of the world painted on her body. And the part of the song I always think of is the part that talks about 'Greece on her knees'. La la la..."and on her knees was Grease....(laugh) Greece on her knees!". Yes, I realize it sounds dumb, but perhaps if you could hear the whole song, it would be funnier. Or perhaps if you were 10 years old it would be funnier. The Smothers Brothers were classic; and they were funny to adults as well as kids. I still don't know why I think of that song whenever I think of that clubhouse. I did attend some event there one night. I remember being in there when it was full of people. I remember the open door, and some people loitering outside. Perhaps they were playing that song while I was there. Not sure.
Her eyes were Siam
Her nose was Hindustan
And on her knees was Greece
(grease on her knees)
Her back was Brazil
Her chest was Bunker Hill
Her hips they were Con-stan-ti-no-po-ple
Just then, I saw my wife
And to avoid a future strife
I let the rest of the world go by
Craig, like many towns across America had a Chamber of Commerce office that was in a Railroad Car. The Craig Chamber Train Car was located at the South end of the Park at Victory Way. It is still there today:
View Larger Map
A little North of the clubhouse was the City Swimming Pool. We went there a few times in the summer and would go swimming. I could not swim. so I would stay in the shallow end, or hold on to the side if I went near a deeper section.
Craig Pool:
View Larger Map
Behind the pool was the playground area. The modern parks have a small little section of the park that is usually enclosed by sidewalk and filled with wood chips or soft Pea-gravel. Thus protecting the little children from hurting themselves if they fall. Craig's playground area had no soft wood chips or pea-gravel. Just hard dirt area and the play area was spread out over a larger area. The park had a nice merry-go-round, teeter-totter, tall slide, swings, monkey bars, etc, I especially remember the slide. It was a tall slide, about 10 feet tall. A long slick metal slide that was great for sliding. One time, while visiting the park, it must have been busy. I say that because the line to 'ride the slide' was long. Kids were standing on the ladder waiting for their turn to slide down the ladder. Well, it became my turn to slide down the slide and I climbed into the slide position at the top of the slide and was ready to make my run. But there was someone ahead of me that had stopped midway down the slide. I don't know if they were scared or playing around or what. But the kid behind me was upset that I was not sliding down the slide and so he pushed me. He must have pushed pretty hard because I did not go down the slide...I went off the edge of the slide and down to the ground. It knocked the wind out of me. I don't remember all the other times I must have went down that slide. But I remember that time. I can still remember that feeling of having the wind knocked out of me. Gasping for air and not being able to breathe. I have no idea who had stopped ahead of me, or who pushed me, but I will never forget that awful feeling.
I also remember the park area.
View Larger Map
Surrounded by tall trees. No grass, just hard ground. The area was shaded, with playground equipment dotting the playground area. It's hard to explain, but I can close my eyes and remember the 'feeling of being there'. The smell, the shade, the sound of the kids playing, the agony of defeat (when you get pushed off the slide).
In the cold Craig winters, they would flood the area near the playground and make a big skating rink right in the middle of the park. I was never a skater, but it was still cool that they would do that. Lots of people (who had ice skates) would go down to the park and ice skate in the winter.
At the north end of the park, there was a road that crossed the creek, There was also a foot bridge that crossed the creek and opened up into the playground area.
View Larger Map
There were picnic tables and a parking area in the same area. On the North side of that street (I think it was 7th street) was a unmaintained area that ran North along the creek for some distance. We called it Sherwood Forest.
View Larger Map
(Funny...it seemed more wooded in my memory)
I don't know if that was the official name of the area, but that is what everyone called it. It was cool. Shaded by tall trees, covered by weeds and bushes. There were little dirt walking and riding trails that had been formed over time. Some of the trails were right next to the creek. Other trails would just wind around through the wooded area with no particular destination designed. I remember that one of the trails was so close to the bank that if a person fell off the trail, they would fall into the creek. It was like a cliff scene on a winding wagon road, only it was a walking trail. On the west side, the bank went straight up about 6 feet. Then the trail about a foot wide. Then a 4 foot drop into the creek. I remember we could not ride our bikes on that trail because the side of the bank was too close to the handlebars. We spent a lot of time in Sherwood Forest. Most of the times were fun, but one time I remember we met 3 kids that were evidently looking for trouble. I can't remember what happened, but I remember Andy got in a fist fight with one of them. I must have stood back hoping that I would not have to fight too. I was not a fighter...I was a chicken.
Well, that is the Craig Park. I have other Park stories. but will save that for a later date. Remember: Play Hard, but don't take a plunge off the slide...it hurts big time.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Small Town-Fast Food
In today's society, fast food joints line the street and play a huge roll in the size of our waistline's(pun is intended). Biggie size, super size, mega meals...it's no wonder we all weigh too much and have clogged arteries. But what if I was to ask you to think about a small town in Colorado in the early to mid 1960's. You'd probably think of an old run down restaurant filled with tables and chairs and ample cigarette smoke. And yes, Craig had a couple of those. But Craig also had some 'fast food' joints. They were not called 'fast food' joints then, mainly because they cooked everything to order, but they fit the profile. In fact, a couple of them even had names we're familiar with today.
My favorite was the A&W. It was on the corner of Victory and Green street and was built in the classic Drive-in format. A small one room building with a kitchen at the back and a service window in the front. The classic covered parking that ran the length of the parking lot. Complete with teen age car hops and the classic frosted Root Beer mugs.
Like any kid, I loved to go to the A&W. Still to this day, a frosty root beer is hard to beat. There are two things I remember most about the menu at the A&W, and neither is the root beer.
First, I remember the 'frozen cokes'. Nothing too special about that, but they were one of my favorites. Ten or twelve ounces of coke in a paper cup and frozen solid in a freezer. They handed it to you with a plastic spoon and you started 'chipping' away. They were better at the A&W than the ones I tried to make at home. I never could figure out why. I mean...its just coke...frozen...what could be so hard about that? Still, the ones at the A&W were always sweeter than the ones I tried to make at home. And why did they even sell them? In the last 40 years, I have never seen 'frozen cokes' on any restaurant or drive-in menu. I loved 'em though, and I think they were only 10 cents.
The second, was the hot dog. As a kid I was not big on hamburgers, I liked the hot dogs. At the A&W, I liked to order 2 hot dogs with ketchup and mustard. Emm, Emm good. I still order my hot dogs that way today. I like them with relish and onions and all the fix ens...but just the other day at the DQ I ordered my hot dog with ketchup and mustard only. Hmmm...reliving my childhood? I use to take my school lunch money, and sneak off the school grounds at lunch break (which was against the rules) and go down to the A&W (about 3 blocks from school) and buy 2 hot dogs with ketchup and mustard and a root beer. I did that a lot. Call me a rebel.
The A&W was not the only game in town. Downtown Craig, across from the courthouse was a little one room Drive in called the Tastee Freez. I had a favorite there too. But it was not the ice cream as you might expect. When I went to the Tastee Freez I wanted to get a 'chocolate coke'. I absolutely loved their chocolate cokes. I don't much care for them now. And to be honest, I can't imagine why I liked them so much then. But I did. Perhaps if I could go back in time and try one of the Tastee Freez Chocolate Cokes as they made them then...perhaps I would like them again. Doubt it.
There was the B&B drive in out east of town. I had no favorite thing there that I can remember. But I did not make it out there too often. It was east of town and would have required a car to go visit, or a long bike ride. It was the teen hang out I think. I think I got to go there when one of the older brothers or sisters got stuck watching little brother. "Buy him a chocolate coke, that will keep him quiet!" I'm assuming, I have few memories of the B&B.
There was the Easley's Hamburger place. Again, I was not a hamburger man (boy), but Easley's burgers had a sort of reputation. Perhaps it was the fact that they were the MacDonald's of Craig. Yes, Easley's put a special sauce on their burgers, kinda like Thousand Island dressing. I remember them being the 'burger of choice' around town. Perhaps it was because they opened a stand across from the High School and I had 3 older brothers and sisters (in High School or Junior High). The young are so easily influenced by their older brothers and sisters. Yeah, that's why I was a 'hot dog' man/boy.
Well, so much for my childhood 'fast food' memories. I think I'll go put a coke in the freezer and see if I can bring back a childhood 'favorite thing' memory. Now where were those paper cups....wait...we don't have paper cups anymore, now they are plastic....drat...they'll never taste the same now....
My favorite was the A&W. It was on the corner of Victory and Green street and was built in the classic Drive-in format. A small one room building with a kitchen at the back and a service window in the front. The classic covered parking that ran the length of the parking lot. Complete with teen age car hops and the classic frosted Root Beer mugs.
Like any kid, I loved to go to the A&W. Still to this day, a frosty root beer is hard to beat. There are two things I remember most about the menu at the A&W, and neither is the root beer.
First, I remember the 'frozen cokes'. Nothing too special about that, but they were one of my favorites. Ten or twelve ounces of coke in a paper cup and frozen solid in a freezer. They handed it to you with a plastic spoon and you started 'chipping' away. They were better at the A&W than the ones I tried to make at home. I never could figure out why. I mean...its just coke...frozen...what could be so hard about that? Still, the ones at the A&W were always sweeter than the ones I tried to make at home. And why did they even sell them? In the last 40 years, I have never seen 'frozen cokes' on any restaurant or drive-in menu. I loved 'em though, and I think they were only 10 cents.
The second, was the hot dog. As a kid I was not big on hamburgers, I liked the hot dogs. At the A&W, I liked to order 2 hot dogs with ketchup and mustard. Emm, Emm good. I still order my hot dogs that way today. I like them with relish and onions and all the fix ens...but just the other day at the DQ I ordered my hot dog with ketchup and mustard only. Hmmm...reliving my childhood? I use to take my school lunch money, and sneak off the school grounds at lunch break (which was against the rules) and go down to the A&W (about 3 blocks from school) and buy 2 hot dogs with ketchup and mustard and a root beer. I did that a lot. Call me a rebel.
The A&W was not the only game in town. Downtown Craig, across from the courthouse was a little one room Drive in called the Tastee Freez. I had a favorite there too. But it was not the ice cream as you might expect. When I went to the Tastee Freez I wanted to get a 'chocolate coke'. I absolutely loved their chocolate cokes. I don't much care for them now. And to be honest, I can't imagine why I liked them so much then. But I did. Perhaps if I could go back in time and try one of the Tastee Freez Chocolate Cokes as they made them then...perhaps I would like them again. Doubt it.
There was the B&B drive in out east of town. I had no favorite thing there that I can remember. But I did not make it out there too often. It was east of town and would have required a car to go visit, or a long bike ride. It was the teen hang out I think. I think I got to go there when one of the older brothers or sisters got stuck watching little brother. "Buy him a chocolate coke, that will keep him quiet!" I'm assuming, I have few memories of the B&B.
There was the Easley's Hamburger place. Again, I was not a hamburger man (boy), but Easley's burgers had a sort of reputation. Perhaps it was the fact that they were the MacDonald's of Craig. Yes, Easley's put a special sauce on their burgers, kinda like Thousand Island dressing. I remember them being the 'burger of choice' around town. Perhaps it was because they opened a stand across from the High School and I had 3 older brothers and sisters (in High School or Junior High). The young are so easily influenced by their older brothers and sisters. Yeah, that's why I was a 'hot dog' man/boy.
Well, so much for my childhood 'fast food' memories. I think I'll go put a coke in the freezer and see if I can bring back a childhood 'favorite thing' memory. Now where were those paper cups....wait...we don't have paper cups anymore, now they are plastic....drat...they'll never taste the same now....
Saturday, March 28, 2009
The Great Rodeo Roundup
If you grew up in a small town in Western Colorado in the mid 1960's, I guess you would understand that there is not a lot to do most of the time. There were opportunities. Craig did have a Movie Theater. It was called the 'West' Theater...though it was on the 'East' side of town.
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The theater was on the main drag (Highway 40),which was also called Victory Way. The theater is still there (above photo), just a lot older. It was a real treat to get to go to a movie, but it did not happen very often. Craig also had a Drive in out East of town...though I don't remember ever going to a movie there. Perhaps that was for the teenagers.
Craig had limited entertainment opportunities. A City Park. A theater. A brand new Bowling Alley. Lets see, what else.....Perhaps that's it. If you were an adult, you could go to the bar and drink, or go out and eat at the Cosgriff Hotel. If you were a sports fan, and the timing was right, you could go watch a High School Football game. And of course, catch a movie at the theater.
Other wise, save hunting and fishing, there was not a lot to do in Craig. I suppose, that is why the 'Ride and Tie Rodeo', was such a big deal when it rolled around each July. Of course, like most small towns, the County Fair was happening at the same time, and the town was bustling.
Well, for Andy and Clint, it was not so much about the Rodeo, as it was a money making opportunity. No, we didn't enter any of the Rodeo events. We had another strategy. You see, all those Cowboys and all those Cowgirls needed something to drink. And, they would go to one of the refreshment stands and buy a bottle of Coke or 7up and enjoy that nice cool drink. In the 60's, most soda was still sold in bottles and those bottles were good for a deposit. I'm not sure it it was 2 cents or a nickel, but every bottle was the same as money. And they were laying all over the place. It only made good sense to 'round them up' and cash them in. Thus began the Great Rodeo Roundup!
Andy and I went to every Rodeo, but we didn't really watch any rodeo action. We were very busy making the rounds in the corrals and chute areas. People would drink their soda, and set down the bottle. Andy or I would walk by and grab that empty bottle and it was money in the pocket. Well, eventually. We soon discovered that bottles were bigger and bulkier than money and we could only carry a few bottles at one time. We couldn't take them back to the concession stand because they would take the bottles, but they would not give us any money for them. So, we found a place to stash the bottle at the back of the fairgrounds. Out past the corrals, out past the parking area, out to our little hiding spot. There we would stow away our bottles until we could cash them in.
We were only in the 4th grade, so we didn't have a pick up truck to transport the bottles. So, after the rodeo, we would get our little wagon and fill it with as many bottle as it would hold and pull it to the liquor store to cash in our bounty. As an adult, I now feel sorry for the liquor store attendant. I can't imagine how many trips we must have made to cash in our bottle booty. The clerk would have to sort through the bottles, straighten the mess out, count them up, and give us our cash reward. And it was always that same Liquor store that we went to, because it was the closest place near the Fairgrounds that would accept pop bottles.
Here is the Liquor store as it looks today:
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It was not just the 'Ride and Tie' in July that aroused our interest in Rodeo's. We would go to every Tuesday Night Rodeo throughout the summer and collect those empty bottles. It was big business! I wish I knew how many bottles we collected. I'm not sure if I would be impressed with how many we collected or disappointed to see how few we actually collected. It sure seemed a lot to this little 4th grader.
Here is 'Rodeo Clint' at the 'Ride n Tie' Rodeo:
A cowboy in Tennis shoes...how sad!
Funny thing... I started collecting pop bottles as an adult. I wonder where that notion came from?
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The theater was on the main drag (Highway 40),which was also called Victory Way. The theater is still there (above photo), just a lot older. It was a real treat to get to go to a movie, but it did not happen very often. Craig also had a Drive in out East of town...though I don't remember ever going to a movie there. Perhaps that was for the teenagers.
Craig had limited entertainment opportunities. A City Park. A theater. A brand new Bowling Alley. Lets see, what else.....Perhaps that's it. If you were an adult, you could go to the bar and drink, or go out and eat at the Cosgriff Hotel. If you were a sports fan, and the timing was right, you could go watch a High School Football game. And of course, catch a movie at the theater.
Other wise, save hunting and fishing, there was not a lot to do in Craig. I suppose, that is why the 'Ride and Tie Rodeo', was such a big deal when it rolled around each July. Of course, like most small towns, the County Fair was happening at the same time, and the town was bustling.
Well, for Andy and Clint, it was not so much about the Rodeo, as it was a money making opportunity. No, we didn't enter any of the Rodeo events. We had another strategy. You see, all those Cowboys and all those Cowgirls needed something to drink. And, they would go to one of the refreshment stands and buy a bottle of Coke or 7up and enjoy that nice cool drink. In the 60's, most soda was still sold in bottles and those bottles were good for a deposit. I'm not sure it it was 2 cents or a nickel, but every bottle was the same as money. And they were laying all over the place. It only made good sense to 'round them up' and cash them in. Thus began the Great Rodeo Roundup!
Andy and I went to every Rodeo, but we didn't really watch any rodeo action. We were very busy making the rounds in the corrals and chute areas. People would drink their soda, and set down the bottle. Andy or I would walk by and grab that empty bottle and it was money in the pocket. Well, eventually. We soon discovered that bottles were bigger and bulkier than money and we could only carry a few bottles at one time. We couldn't take them back to the concession stand because they would take the bottles, but they would not give us any money for them. So, we found a place to stash the bottle at the back of the fairgrounds. Out past the corrals, out past the parking area, out to our little hiding spot. There we would stow away our bottles until we could cash them in.
We were only in the 4th grade, so we didn't have a pick up truck to transport the bottles. So, after the rodeo, we would get our little wagon and fill it with as many bottle as it would hold and pull it to the liquor store to cash in our bounty. As an adult, I now feel sorry for the liquor store attendant. I can't imagine how many trips we must have made to cash in our bottle booty. The clerk would have to sort through the bottles, straighten the mess out, count them up, and give us our cash reward. And it was always that same Liquor store that we went to, because it was the closest place near the Fairgrounds that would accept pop bottles.
Here is the Liquor store as it looks today:
View Larger Map
It was not just the 'Ride and Tie' in July that aroused our interest in Rodeo's. We would go to every Tuesday Night Rodeo throughout the summer and collect those empty bottles. It was big business! I wish I knew how many bottles we collected. I'm not sure if I would be impressed with how many we collected or disappointed to see how few we actually collected. It sure seemed a lot to this little 4th grader.
Here is 'Rodeo Clint' at the 'Ride n Tie' Rodeo:
A cowboy in Tennis shoes...how sad!
Funny thing... I started collecting pop bottles as an adult. I wonder where that notion came from?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
East of Town
I'd like to say I had a lot of good memories about the house East of town. Can't say that I do. Only one I can really think of is the fact that Elaine McCandless lived down the road. Her Dad was the town vet. I guess I, and every other boy in town, had a little crush on Elaine. Not that we were interested in girls, but she had a pretty face and long light brown hair, and her Dad was rich. What's not to like about that?
I was in Kindergarten I think about then. I must have been riding the bus home from school, though I only vaguely remember riding any bus. One day I rode the bus home and I was the only family member who did. Usually one of my older brothers or sisters would also come home after school. They would be my protector, my kid sitter, my snack preparer...whatever. But on this particular day, it was only me. A small kindergartner all alone at a house in the middle of nowhere. I guess all the brothers and sisters had other things going on and no one knew that Clintie was going to be home alone. The story goes that I figured out how to call my Mom at her work. She was working at the town Laundry/Dry Cleaners. She answered the phone and said she heard the small tiny voice of a scared little boy who said: "Mom, I'm all alone!" Poor Clintie, its a wonder I ever grew up sane...no wait...
I remember that the house had a serious mouse problem. You could sit on the couch and hear them running behind the couch...or see them run across the floor. Carole said she remembers the mice running across her pillow. What a wonderful home.
I remember there was a kid who lived across the street. I can't remember his name, but he was older than me and he was a bully. I remember he got a mohawk haircut one time. I remember thinking it 'so strange' to cut your hair that way. I think I had (still have) an aversion to mohawk haircuts because of that one kid. NO MOHAWKS!
At the house east of town, we had a rooster that was very mean. I think we called him Peckie, or Pecker, or something like that. You could not go outside without getting attacked by that mean chicken. I have no idea why we kept him. We should of had him for Sunday dinner...now that would have been a satisfying meal.
One time at that house, we had visitors that had car trouble. They could not get it started, so they all decided a group of us would push the car down the driveway and pop the clutch. So kids and adults joined in at the back of the car...push push push...the clutch was popped...the car started...everybody let go as the car pulled away...well all except little Jackie Orr who forgot to let go of the bumper. The car drug him down the driveway quite a ways. He was too scared to let go. Skinned his knees up pretty good. In the same house, Jackie was jumping on the bunk bed with a bow (from bow and arrow) in his hand. When he jumped off the top bunk, he landed with the top of the bow in his mouth. Scraped up the top on his mouth real good...talk about bleeding. Off to the hospital! I wonder if he survived childhood?
One time, I think it was springtime, the snow was melting, the weather was warm, and the driveway up to our house was a mud bog. I think the car got stuck trying to make it to the house, and we were walking the rest of the way to the house. The mud was so thick that my boots got stuck in the mud and I couldn't get them out. There I was, stuck in the mud, crying, and everyone leaving me behind. Someone felt sorry for me and came back to get me. They could not get the boots unstuck, so they just picked me up and carried me to the house. We left the boots out in the mud. I think my Mom was very mad. She must have been pretty mad because...the next day...there was a gravel truck dumping gravel on our driveway.
Not the best of times out East of town. Maybe that's why Elaine was such a bright spot in my little world.
I was in Kindergarten I think about then. I must have been riding the bus home from school, though I only vaguely remember riding any bus. One day I rode the bus home and I was the only family member who did. Usually one of my older brothers or sisters would also come home after school. They would be my protector, my kid sitter, my snack preparer...whatever. But on this particular day, it was only me. A small kindergartner all alone at a house in the middle of nowhere. I guess all the brothers and sisters had other things going on and no one knew that Clintie was going to be home alone. The story goes that I figured out how to call my Mom at her work. She was working at the town Laundry/Dry Cleaners. She answered the phone and said she heard the small tiny voice of a scared little boy who said: "Mom, I'm all alone!" Poor Clintie, its a wonder I ever grew up sane...no wait...
I remember that the house had a serious mouse problem. You could sit on the couch and hear them running behind the couch...or see them run across the floor. Carole said she remembers the mice running across her pillow. What a wonderful home.
I remember there was a kid who lived across the street. I can't remember his name, but he was older than me and he was a bully. I remember he got a mohawk haircut one time. I remember thinking it 'so strange' to cut your hair that way. I think I had (still have) an aversion to mohawk haircuts because of that one kid. NO MOHAWKS!
At the house east of town, we had a rooster that was very mean. I think we called him Peckie, or Pecker, or something like that. You could not go outside without getting attacked by that mean chicken. I have no idea why we kept him. We should of had him for Sunday dinner...now that would have been a satisfying meal.
One time at that house, we had visitors that had car trouble. They could not get it started, so they all decided a group of us would push the car down the driveway and pop the clutch. So kids and adults joined in at the back of the car...push push push...the clutch was popped...the car started...everybody let go as the car pulled away...well all except little Jackie Orr who forgot to let go of the bumper. The car drug him down the driveway quite a ways. He was too scared to let go. Skinned his knees up pretty good. In the same house, Jackie was jumping on the bunk bed with a bow (from bow and arrow) in his hand. When he jumped off the top bunk, he landed with the top of the bow in his mouth. Scraped up the top on his mouth real good...talk about bleeding. Off to the hospital! I wonder if he survived childhood?
One time, I think it was springtime, the snow was melting, the weather was warm, and the driveway up to our house was a mud bog. I think the car got stuck trying to make it to the house, and we were walking the rest of the way to the house. The mud was so thick that my boots got stuck in the mud and I couldn't get them out. There I was, stuck in the mud, crying, and everyone leaving me behind. Someone felt sorry for me and came back to get me. They could not get the boots unstuck, so they just picked me up and carried me to the house. We left the boots out in the mud. I think my Mom was very mad. She must have been pretty mad because...the next day...there was a gravel truck dumping gravel on our driveway.
Not the best of times out East of town. Maybe that's why Elaine was such a bright spot in my little world.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
My Disappearing Past
It seems that a lot of my past now only lives inside my fattish head. It is really amazing that I can remember so much about my childhood days in Craig, but I can't remember stuff that happened last month. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that when you're a child, your mind is learning and can remember mass amounts of data during the 'learning years'. Certainly, I don't remember everything about what happened in my elementary days, but I can recall a lot of memories about the life and times I experienced in Craig.
A few years ago, I had the opportunity to return to Craig with my sister Lynn to attend a High School Reunion. I had passed through Craig a few times over the years, but had never really stopped and spent any time in the area. On that visit back, we were able to spend a couple of days in town.
It was really kind of sad for me. I had all these memories of the little town that had been such a huge part of my life from Kindergarten to 5th grade. But I guess from 1966 to 2005 a few things had changed. In most area's, a town grows, expands, and prospers as the years pass. And true, Craig is bigger than it use to be. They had to change Victory road into a one way street to accommodate the increase in traffic. But overall, I left with the impression that Craig had shrivelled up and was less of a town than when I had lived there all those many years ago.
When we first came into town, we came upon my Grandfathers house at the North end of Craig. It was still there. No one was living in it. When my Granddad lived there, it did not have indoor plumbing. There was an outhouse out back that they used year round. Brrrrr! The house was still there, but it was not surprising that no one lived there...I think people these days feel that indoor plumbing is important.
The next stop was the Yampa house, which was, as I mentioned in a previous post, now a bank parking lot. We drove around the corner to the last school I attended when I lived in Craig... gone... Breeze Elementary is now a city park.
A drive down the main street was about the same. Many of the old buildings that had lined Yampa Street were now totally gone. A vacant lot now sat where a store had been. A parking lot where another had stood. One had a false front where a business had once stood. The town that had been my childhood playground, was mostly still there, but everything was just 40 years older.
We drove out south of town, to the house where we had first lived when we moved to Craig. That house was also gone. Torn down and removed with nothing but a few trees to indicate that there had ever even been a house there.
Next, we went out east of town to find the little house where we had lived next. It took a little looking, but we found it. There is no driveway that goes to the house anymore. Just a shell of a building out in the barren hills east of town. There was a deer resting in the shade of the house, who was quite annoyed when we walked up to the house. I doubt he gets many human visitors. The roof was gone. The only thing left standing were the walls of the building. Of course, the place was not much of a house when we lived there 40 years ago. So, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it was no longer livable. You can sort of see the place in this present day Google Street View:
View Larger Map
It is funny, and sad, that all these memories are in my head; but reality paints the picture of a dying little town that has changed little; and is now part of my 'disappearing past'.
A few years ago, I had the opportunity to return to Craig with my sister Lynn to attend a High School Reunion. I had passed through Craig a few times over the years, but had never really stopped and spent any time in the area. On that visit back, we were able to spend a couple of days in town.
It was really kind of sad for me. I had all these memories of the little town that had been such a huge part of my life from Kindergarten to 5th grade. But I guess from 1966 to 2005 a few things had changed. In most area's, a town grows, expands, and prospers as the years pass. And true, Craig is bigger than it use to be. They had to change Victory road into a one way street to accommodate the increase in traffic. But overall, I left with the impression that Craig had shrivelled up and was less of a town than when I had lived there all those many years ago.
When we first came into town, we came upon my Grandfathers house at the North end of Craig. It was still there. No one was living in it. When my Granddad lived there, it did not have indoor plumbing. There was an outhouse out back that they used year round. Brrrrr! The house was still there, but it was not surprising that no one lived there...I think people these days feel that indoor plumbing is important.
The next stop was the Yampa house, which was, as I mentioned in a previous post, now a bank parking lot. We drove around the corner to the last school I attended when I lived in Craig... gone... Breeze Elementary is now a city park.
A drive down the main street was about the same. Many of the old buildings that had lined Yampa Street were now totally gone. A vacant lot now sat where a store had been. A parking lot where another had stood. One had a false front where a business had once stood. The town that had been my childhood playground, was mostly still there, but everything was just 40 years older.
We drove out south of town, to the house where we had first lived when we moved to Craig. That house was also gone. Torn down and removed with nothing but a few trees to indicate that there had ever even been a house there.
Next, we went out east of town to find the little house where we had lived next. It took a little looking, but we found it. There is no driveway that goes to the house anymore. Just a shell of a building out in the barren hills east of town. There was a deer resting in the shade of the house, who was quite annoyed when we walked up to the house. I doubt he gets many human visitors. The roof was gone. The only thing left standing were the walls of the building. Of course, the place was not much of a house when we lived there 40 years ago. So, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it was no longer livable. You can sort of see the place in this present day Google Street View:
View Larger Map
It is funny, and sad, that all these memories are in my head; but reality paints the picture of a dying little town that has changed little; and is now part of my 'disappearing past'.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Andy Pleasant
My best friend in Craig was Andy Pleasant. His given name was Andrew Duncan Pleasant. Andy was really an unlikely match for me as a best friend. We were opposites in a lot of ways. Andy was the fearless, tough, boy who grew up on a ranch...I was the shy, quiet, city boy, who made chocolate chip cookies (and ate the cookie dough). Andy was the 'ride the calf' at the Tuesday Night Rodeo, and I was the kid who was scared of horses and dogs. Andy was the 'beat up the kid' on the playground. I was the 'kid that got beat up' on the playground. Nevertheless, we became very good friends.
I'm not sure how our friendship came to be. I believe my mother started attending Alanon (The local wives of alcoholics group)and it was there she met Ruth Pleasant. Ruth and my Mom became friends and Mom started attending the Lutheran Church. Maybe, Andy and I were spending a lot of time together in school and church and visits between Moms. Maybe, Andy's mom told him to befriend me whether he liked it or not. Regardless, we ended up spending a lot of time together and were truly 'good friends'.
We both attended Sunset Elementary School and also Breeze Elementary School. In the fourth and fifth grades we attended the same schools, but each had different teachers. In the fourth grade, I had Mrs Schmidt. A tiny little lady, not much bigger than us fourth graders, but she walloped a mean ping pong paddle as her 'spanker' of choice. Andy had the other fourth grade teacher...I can't remember her name, but she had a custom 'spanker'. A 2 foot piece of hard wood 1x4 with a handle cut to fit the hand on the end. The middle was drilled with half inch holes to cut down on the wind resistance. We all feared the the custom 'spanker' because it looked much more menacing. But, come to find out, and I did, the little ping pong 'spanker' was the one that hurt the most. In the fifth grade, we both ended up going to a different school by moving to Breeze Elementary. Andy got the easier teacher, and I got Mrs. Potter. Mrs Potter was old and mean. And hard. And I began my toughest year of elementary school. That was a tough year! Scholastically, I do have to admit, I think I learned more than I ever learned from that mean ole Mrs. Potter. She looked like Mr. Potter in "It's a Wonderful Life'...really!! I remember that they made us eat everything on our plate in the Breeze lunchroom. So, whenever they had peas...I stuffed them in my empty milk carton and secretly threw them in the trash. Also, it was at Breeze, that I held the hand of my fifth grade girlfriend on the last day of school while we walked in the springtime sun on the last day of school field trip. That was the last time I saw her, we ended up leaving Craig that summer.
Andy and I were bike fanatics. We both had little sting ray bikes with the banana seats and we rode them all over the town of Craig. From Sherwood Forest to the top of Green Street at the base of the Sandrocks. From the 'Ride and Tie' Fairgrounds all the way to Ralph White Reservoir several miles North of Craig. And everywhere in between. We could take the bikes apart and put them back together again. Including the bearing and gears on the inside of the wheels. Pretty good for our age.
We smoked cigarettes in the garage. We smoked cigarettes in Andy's house, inside the bathroom...while his Mom was home. We turned on the hot water to make steam and put a towel at the base of the door to conceal the smoke. We thought we were so clever. I never inhaled. Didn't really care for it, but I played along so I could be cool like Andy. Dumb kid! We would scrounge up (or steal, who knows) money and go down to the drug store and buy the cigarettes. We would tell the clerk they were for our Mom, and that she had sent us down to buy them. (In your best Yoda voice: "Liars we were"!)
I remember Andy took me into his older brothers room one time and rummaged in his dresser drawer and pulled out a condom. Of course, he called it a rubber. Innocent kid I was, I had no clue what it was, though I pretended I knew. I remember he told me that it had a pin hole through the middle of it. I guess his brother wanted to get his girlfriend pregnant. I didn't really understand it then, but 'goes to show', you can't trust us men.
Andy was my rooftop playmate. We climbed that old Yampa House roof on many an occasion. We climbed the Steele Street roof too...except I got up there and was too scared to come down. The only way off that roof was to hang your legs over the side of the house to the decorative wrought iron rails on the front of the porch. Then put your feet in the rail, and reach your hand(s) down and also grab the rail. Not so scary climbing up...but one doesn't think about what it will be like climbing down. I finally made it down, but it was very scary for me...piece of cake for 'rodeo boy'.
One time we got in a fight, and he held me down in that same bathroom where we smoked the cigarettes. He had a 'Water Pik' and was shooting water in my face and holding me down on the bathroom floor. That was in their house that was about 3-4 miles north of Craig. We were at home alone. I walked all the way to town (even past the Frank's house with all the dogs). I was about 2 blocks from home when Andy's parents drove by and spotted me walking. They stopped and talked to me. Not sure, but I bet Andy got in trouble for that little incident. I walked a long way on a public highway. And I was only in the 5th grade.
I moved away after the 5th grade. Andy's folks divorced and Andy also moved away to Denver. Not really sure what ever happened to him. But while I was in Craig,he was a good friend, my best friend.
From the Yampa House looking toward downtown Craig:
A Photo of the actual Yampa House I found:
My 5th Grade GF:
Andy Pleasant:
(note the hair...maybe bad hair was the style then??)
I'm not sure how our friendship came to be. I believe my mother started attending Alanon (The local wives of alcoholics group)and it was there she met Ruth Pleasant. Ruth and my Mom became friends and Mom started attending the Lutheran Church. Maybe, Andy and I were spending a lot of time together in school and church and visits between Moms. Maybe, Andy's mom told him to befriend me whether he liked it or not. Regardless, we ended up spending a lot of time together and were truly 'good friends'.
We both attended Sunset Elementary School and also Breeze Elementary School. In the fourth and fifth grades we attended the same schools, but each had different teachers. In the fourth grade, I had Mrs Schmidt. A tiny little lady, not much bigger than us fourth graders, but she walloped a mean ping pong paddle as her 'spanker' of choice. Andy had the other fourth grade teacher...I can't remember her name, but she had a custom 'spanker'. A 2 foot piece of hard wood 1x4 with a handle cut to fit the hand on the end. The middle was drilled with half inch holes to cut down on the wind resistance. We all feared the the custom 'spanker' because it looked much more menacing. But, come to find out, and I did, the little ping pong 'spanker' was the one that hurt the most. In the fifth grade, we both ended up going to a different school by moving to Breeze Elementary. Andy got the easier teacher, and I got Mrs. Potter. Mrs Potter was old and mean. And hard. And I began my toughest year of elementary school. That was a tough year! Scholastically, I do have to admit, I think I learned more than I ever learned from that mean ole Mrs. Potter. She looked like Mr. Potter in "It's a Wonderful Life'...really!! I remember that they made us eat everything on our plate in the Breeze lunchroom. So, whenever they had peas...I stuffed them in my empty milk carton and secretly threw them in the trash. Also, it was at Breeze, that I held the hand of my fifth grade girlfriend on the last day of school while we walked in the springtime sun on the last day of school field trip. That was the last time I saw her, we ended up leaving Craig that summer.
Andy and I were bike fanatics. We both had little sting ray bikes with the banana seats and we rode them all over the town of Craig. From Sherwood Forest to the top of Green Street at the base of the Sandrocks. From the 'Ride and Tie' Fairgrounds all the way to Ralph White Reservoir several miles North of Craig. And everywhere in between. We could take the bikes apart and put them back together again. Including the bearing and gears on the inside of the wheels. Pretty good for our age.
We smoked cigarettes in the garage. We smoked cigarettes in Andy's house, inside the bathroom...while his Mom was home. We turned on the hot water to make steam and put a towel at the base of the door to conceal the smoke. We thought we were so clever. I never inhaled. Didn't really care for it, but I played along so I could be cool like Andy. Dumb kid! We would scrounge up (or steal, who knows) money and go down to the drug store and buy the cigarettes. We would tell the clerk they were for our Mom, and that she had sent us down to buy them. (In your best Yoda voice: "Liars we were"!)
I remember Andy took me into his older brothers room one time and rummaged in his dresser drawer and pulled out a condom. Of course, he called it a rubber. Innocent kid I was, I had no clue what it was, though I pretended I knew. I remember he told me that it had a pin hole through the middle of it. I guess his brother wanted to get his girlfriend pregnant. I didn't really understand it then, but 'goes to show', you can't trust us men.
Andy was my rooftop playmate. We climbed that old Yampa House roof on many an occasion. We climbed the Steele Street roof too...except I got up there and was too scared to come down. The only way off that roof was to hang your legs over the side of the house to the decorative wrought iron rails on the front of the porch. Then put your feet in the rail, and reach your hand(s) down and also grab the rail. Not so scary climbing up...but one doesn't think about what it will be like climbing down. I finally made it down, but it was very scary for me...piece of cake for 'rodeo boy'.
One time we got in a fight, and he held me down in that same bathroom where we smoked the cigarettes. He had a 'Water Pik' and was shooting water in my face and holding me down on the bathroom floor. That was in their house that was about 3-4 miles north of Craig. We were at home alone. I walked all the way to town (even past the Frank's house with all the dogs). I was about 2 blocks from home when Andy's parents drove by and spotted me walking. They stopped and talked to me. Not sure, but I bet Andy got in trouble for that little incident. I walked a long way on a public highway. And I was only in the 5th grade.
I moved away after the 5th grade. Andy's folks divorced and Andy also moved away to Denver. Not really sure what ever happened to him. But while I was in Craig,he was a good friend, my best friend.
From the Yampa House looking toward downtown Craig:
A Photo of the actual Yampa House I found:
My 5th Grade GF:
Andy Pleasant:
(note the hair...maybe bad hair was the style then??)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Yampa House
The Historian's of Moffatt County say that the Indian word for 'bear' is 'yampa'. I don't really speak Indian, so I guess I'll have to take their word for it. I know where your mind is going with this, but the answer is "no, I didn't wrestle a bear when I was in elementary school"! There were a lot of things in the small town of Craig named 'Yampa'. Mainly, the Yampa River. The Yampa River was a fairly good size river and ran through the valley where my hometown sat. Of course, that meant that the entire valley was called the 'Yampa Valley', and many things around town were named after the bear. For example, my Dad worked for the Yampa Valley Creamery. There was a Yampa Elementary School. And the main north/south street that ran through downtown Craig was named 'Yampa'.
That's where we were living when the above picture was taken. It was the 600 block of Yampa Street, and it was just North of Downtown Craig. The house is no longer there; it is now the parking lot for the Bank at the corner of 6th and Yampa. The house was old, even in the 60's when we were living there. The house was unusually shaped in my opinion. Basically square at the base, with a porch that ran the length of the front side of the house. An unattached garage in the back left side of the house. The unusual part was the roof. All four side of the roof ran up to an 8 foot square, or flat section at the top of the house. I found a picture of a similar house here in Nampa. Unlike the Yampa house,this one is in great shape and well taken care of...but the shape of the house is really what I want you to see.
If parents really knew what their kids did when they were not around...boy, what an eye opener that would be. My mother was struggling to get by in those days and I'm not sure who was watching us, if anyone. Perhaps one of my older sisters. Maybe Beth was somewhere else, and I was home alone after school?? I pulled some good ones there at the Yampa house.
My friend Andy and I were typical boys. We rode our bikes all over town. We made bow and arrows out of sticks we cut from a willow. It's a wonder we never put an eye out. The arrows flew pretty good considering it was all home made with a willow and some string. My fellow 911 employees would be saddened to know that I played on the phone one time (pre-911) and the operator finally shut the phone off. I remember being so scared that I was going to have to explain the dead phone to my mother when she got home. The operator turned it on before I had to do that...whew!! I didn't play on the phone any more. Oh yeah, there was the time I tried to make a homemade worm electrode. I had seen someone put an electrode in the ground which forced the worms to exit to the surface. So, I tried to make my own. A couple of wires attached to a screwdriver and whah-la. There was sparks, smoke, and a big black spot at the electrical outlet... but no worms.
We had endless hours of fun on the roof of that old house. From the fence by the garage, we could climb up onto the roof of the garage. Then, a 4 foot jump from the garage to the back of the house. Then straight up the roof to that flat section on top of the house. When we reached the top, 2 little 5th grade boys were on the top of the world. We could run down the front to the porch. Or down the back to the add-on roof. Both of the sides went to a nice 12-14 foot free-fall to the ground. So we were smart enough to stay off the sides. Still, it had to be dangerous. I'm sure my mother would not have approved. But she was working...and we were crazy fool headed boys. It's a wonder I did not fall to my death, or get electrocuted, or fall and crack my skull... hmmm... maybe I did...
Ahh, those were the days. I remember being at the age where I could follow a recipe and cook things at that house. I loved to make Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies. I made them often. And yes sir ree Bob, I ate the cookie dough. We had never heard of salmonella poisoning in those days. Who cares if there are raw eggs in the dough. Yum-yum cookie dough. I liked my cookies crunchy, so I always almost burnt a couple of batches at the end. Just for me! I never got salmonella and died. I think I would have remembered that.
I do remember picking out a Birthday card for my Mother one year. I was so proud of that card. It had multiple pages, cute animations, nice things to say about good old Mom. And everyone gathered around the table as she read it out loud. I was so proud until she got to the end of the card and it read "From your loving Hubby"...and everybody burst into laughter. I cried in my room for at least an hour. And despite all the apologetic trips to the room everyone made...it still makes me sad today. Kids are fragile at that age I guess...and so are old men. Nevertheless, Happy Birthday Mom! Hubby was just not in my 5th grade vocabulary.
I think I'll go for now. I think I'll go make some Chocolate Chip Cookies.
P.S. I still like raw cookie dough.
That's where we were living when the above picture was taken. It was the 600 block of Yampa Street, and it was just North of Downtown Craig. The house is no longer there; it is now the parking lot for the Bank at the corner of 6th and Yampa. The house was old, even in the 60's when we were living there. The house was unusually shaped in my opinion. Basically square at the base, with a porch that ran the length of the front side of the house. An unattached garage in the back left side of the house. The unusual part was the roof. All four side of the roof ran up to an 8 foot square, or flat section at the top of the house. I found a picture of a similar house here in Nampa. Unlike the Yampa house,this one is in great shape and well taken care of...but the shape of the house is really what I want you to see.
If parents really knew what their kids did when they were not around...boy, what an eye opener that would be. My mother was struggling to get by in those days and I'm not sure who was watching us, if anyone. Perhaps one of my older sisters. Maybe Beth was somewhere else, and I was home alone after school?? I pulled some good ones there at the Yampa house.
My friend Andy and I were typical boys. We rode our bikes all over town. We made bow and arrows out of sticks we cut from a willow. It's a wonder we never put an eye out. The arrows flew pretty good considering it was all home made with a willow and some string. My fellow 911 employees would be saddened to know that I played on the phone one time (pre-911) and the operator finally shut the phone off. I remember being so scared that I was going to have to explain the dead phone to my mother when she got home. The operator turned it on before I had to do that...whew!! I didn't play on the phone any more. Oh yeah, there was the time I tried to make a homemade worm electrode. I had seen someone put an electrode in the ground which forced the worms to exit to the surface. So, I tried to make my own. A couple of wires attached to a screwdriver and whah-la. There was sparks, smoke, and a big black spot at the electrical outlet... but no worms.
We had endless hours of fun on the roof of that old house. From the fence by the garage, we could climb up onto the roof of the garage. Then, a 4 foot jump from the garage to the back of the house. Then straight up the roof to that flat section on top of the house. When we reached the top, 2 little 5th grade boys were on the top of the world. We could run down the front to the porch. Or down the back to the add-on roof. Both of the sides went to a nice 12-14 foot free-fall to the ground. So we were smart enough to stay off the sides. Still, it had to be dangerous. I'm sure my mother would not have approved. But she was working...and we were crazy fool headed boys. It's a wonder I did not fall to my death, or get electrocuted, or fall and crack my skull... hmmm... maybe I did...
Ahh, those were the days. I remember being at the age where I could follow a recipe and cook things at that house. I loved to make Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies. I made them often. And yes sir ree Bob, I ate the cookie dough. We had never heard of salmonella poisoning in those days. Who cares if there are raw eggs in the dough. Yum-yum cookie dough. I liked my cookies crunchy, so I always almost burnt a couple of batches at the end. Just for me! I never got salmonella and died. I think I would have remembered that.
I do remember picking out a Birthday card for my Mother one year. I was so proud of that card. It had multiple pages, cute animations, nice things to say about good old Mom. And everyone gathered around the table as she read it out loud. I was so proud until she got to the end of the card and it read "From your loving Hubby"...and everybody burst into laughter. I cried in my room for at least an hour. And despite all the apologetic trips to the room everyone made...it still makes me sad today. Kids are fragile at that age I guess...and so are old men. Nevertheless, Happy Birthday Mom! Hubby was just not in my 5th grade vocabulary.
I think I'll go for now. I think I'll go make some Chocolate Chip Cookies.
P.S. I still like raw cookie dough.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
My First Camera
Well, this is where it all begins. What's that you say? The idea for me to write this series of stories came about because my sister Beth posted the picture you see at the top of this blog. It's a picture of Beth and me in the front yard of our house on Yampa Street in Craig. Another cold winter day in the high country town of Craig. I saw the picture and immediately began remembering events and stories about the elementary age boy they called Scinton Clinton, Me!
My Grandpa Coulson lived in Compton California. When my grandparents bought their house, Compton was a nice place to live. My Grandparents house was just north of Long beach, California. It was a typical house for that time and area. A small 2 bedroom house with a single unattached garage. This is what it looks like today:
View Larger Map
When I was in the 5th grade, the house was younger and in much better shape than it is now. You're probably wondering why I am talking about California instead of Colorado. Grandpa Coulson was my Mother's Dad. He was not a homesteader, rather, he drove a Street Car. And, NO, it was not named 'Desire'. My Grandpa lived in California with my Grandma Coulson. Duh! They were Jim and Flo.
Well that house you see on Pannes street was a place we would visit periodically. It was an 18 hour trip from Craig to Compton in those days. I've lived a lot of places over the years, but I have never forgotten the address of that house for some reason. Sixteen-five-eighteen Pannes (pan-ez). I've forgotten a lot of the addresses of places where I've lived...but never that one. Anyway, that old house on Pannes had 2 Magnolia trees in the front yard. Those trees dropped leaves every day of the year. I hated those trees! Hated raking leaves too. Grandma had her cherished rose tree in the front yard. In the back there was an Orange tree, an Apricot, and 2 plum trees. (Plum jelly is the best!)
In the Garage, Grandpa Coulson parked his white Studebaker. In that same garage, Grandma had a little stove and she would cook her yummy sweet pickles in there. On the back of the garage, Grandpa had built a little shop. Grandpa also built a dark room in that garage. Yes, a darkroom, and it was there he would develop his pictures. Now Grandpa must have had a lot of spare time, (or he just needed a reason to get away from Grandma, because he had a lot of hobbies. For example, Grandpa had a wood shop, his darkroom, his Studebaker car; he built a swing set, fenced and maintained a large yard, built an enclosed patio, watched lots of baseball, worked a job, played a mean game of checkers, and kept my Grandma happy. Whew!
But for this story, the darkroom gets the spotlight. My Grandpa literally took and developed thousands of pictures. We had boxes and boxes of pictures. Sometimes duplicate after duplicate of the same picture. And Grandpa had 10 grandchildren, so you can imagine all the photogenic faces he had to practice on. Those old pictures are still floating around today. I think visiting Grandpa gave me the itch to want a camera. And you know how an itch will bother a 10 year old boy. He'll scratch it till it bleeds.
Now our family had a camera mind you. It was a brand new fancy 35 mm camera my Dad had brought home one day. I'm sure it was state of the art for the mid 1960's. The trouble was, if everything was not just right...the pictures would not turn out right. Can't tell you how many dark or blurry pictures we had in those days. But rest assured the numbers were high. Of course the little 10 year old boy was not allowed to play with the fancy camera. So, Skinton wanted a camera! A camera of his very own.
I can't remember when I got it. Probably a Christmas or a Birthday present. But finally I had a camera of my very own. It is actually a miracle if you think about it. We were in hard times about then. My Dad was gone. My mom was raising us kids by herself. She was working full time at the Cashway Store, trying to keep food on the table. We had moved from our nice house on the west side of town to one of the oldest houses in town. My older brother was working at Bill's Supermarket after school and giving all the money to my mother to buy groceries. And somehow, in the midst of all the struggling to survive...the 10 year old got a camera. Thanks Mom.
It was a small rectangular box camera. About 6 inches long and 5 inches high, and maybe 4 inches wide as best as I can remember. It looked something like this:
I was looking for a photo online, but the I had camera was so old and such a cheap camera, I couldn't even find a picture of one that looked the same. I only took black and white photo's with it. I'm not sure if it would have taken color photo's. When you took a picture, you would hold the camera about waist level, look down into the top of the camera to see what you were taking a photo of, and then snap the shutter and manually wind the film to the next position. Not the greatest of quality...as you can see, but it was my camera, and I was taking pictures. I'm not sure where the money came from to develop them. I know I never had my own dark room. We did have a pretty dark garage however. But that's another story.
So, there I am in the cold Craig winter holding up my shoeless little sister in the Colorado snow. I don't know who took the photo, but I'm in it. And I was looking like the toughest, coolest, big brother in all the world. Well, except for the hair.
A boy and his camera, have you ever heard a snappier short story? I shutter to think what I shall capture in my little square head next. Stay tuned for more....film at 11:00. "Good Night Chet"..."Good Night David".
My Grandpa Coulson lived in Compton California. When my grandparents bought their house, Compton was a nice place to live. My Grandparents house was just north of Long beach, California. It was a typical house for that time and area. A small 2 bedroom house with a single unattached garage. This is what it looks like today:
View Larger Map
When I was in the 5th grade, the house was younger and in much better shape than it is now. You're probably wondering why I am talking about California instead of Colorado. Grandpa Coulson was my Mother's Dad. He was not a homesteader, rather, he drove a Street Car. And, NO, it was not named 'Desire'. My Grandpa lived in California with my Grandma Coulson. Duh! They were Jim and Flo.
Well that house you see on Pannes street was a place we would visit periodically. It was an 18 hour trip from Craig to Compton in those days. I've lived a lot of places over the years, but I have never forgotten the address of that house for some reason. Sixteen-five-eighteen Pannes (pan-ez). I've forgotten a lot of the addresses of places where I've lived...but never that one. Anyway, that old house on Pannes had 2 Magnolia trees in the front yard. Those trees dropped leaves every day of the year. I hated those trees! Hated raking leaves too. Grandma had her cherished rose tree in the front yard. In the back there was an Orange tree, an Apricot, and 2 plum trees. (Plum jelly is the best!)
In the Garage, Grandpa Coulson parked his white Studebaker. In that same garage, Grandma had a little stove and she would cook her yummy sweet pickles in there. On the back of the garage, Grandpa had built a little shop. Grandpa also built a dark room in that garage. Yes, a darkroom, and it was there he would develop his pictures. Now Grandpa must have had a lot of spare time, (or he just needed a reason to get away from Grandma, because he had a lot of hobbies. For example, Grandpa had a wood shop, his darkroom, his Studebaker car; he built a swing set, fenced and maintained a large yard, built an enclosed patio, watched lots of baseball, worked a job, played a mean game of checkers, and kept my Grandma happy. Whew!
But for this story, the darkroom gets the spotlight. My Grandpa literally took and developed thousands of pictures. We had boxes and boxes of pictures. Sometimes duplicate after duplicate of the same picture. And Grandpa had 10 grandchildren, so you can imagine all the photogenic faces he had to practice on. Those old pictures are still floating around today. I think visiting Grandpa gave me the itch to want a camera. And you know how an itch will bother a 10 year old boy. He'll scratch it till it bleeds.
Now our family had a camera mind you. It was a brand new fancy 35 mm camera my Dad had brought home one day. I'm sure it was state of the art for the mid 1960's. The trouble was, if everything was not just right...the pictures would not turn out right. Can't tell you how many dark or blurry pictures we had in those days. But rest assured the numbers were high. Of course the little 10 year old boy was not allowed to play with the fancy camera. So, Skinton wanted a camera! A camera of his very own.
I can't remember when I got it. Probably a Christmas or a Birthday present. But finally I had a camera of my very own. It is actually a miracle if you think about it. We were in hard times about then. My Dad was gone. My mom was raising us kids by herself. She was working full time at the Cashway Store, trying to keep food on the table. We had moved from our nice house on the west side of town to one of the oldest houses in town. My older brother was working at Bill's Supermarket after school and giving all the money to my mother to buy groceries. And somehow, in the midst of all the struggling to survive...the 10 year old got a camera. Thanks Mom.
It was a small rectangular box camera. About 6 inches long and 5 inches high, and maybe 4 inches wide as best as I can remember. It looked something like this:
I was looking for a photo online, but the I had camera was so old and such a cheap camera, I couldn't even find a picture of one that looked the same. I only took black and white photo's with it. I'm not sure if it would have taken color photo's. When you took a picture, you would hold the camera about waist level, look down into the top of the camera to see what you were taking a photo of, and then snap the shutter and manually wind the film to the next position. Not the greatest of quality...as you can see, but it was my camera, and I was taking pictures. I'm not sure where the money came from to develop them. I know I never had my own dark room. We did have a pretty dark garage however. But that's another story.
So, there I am in the cold Craig winter holding up my shoeless little sister in the Colorado snow. I don't know who took the photo, but I'm in it. And I was looking like the toughest, coolest, big brother in all the world. Well, except for the hair.
A boy and his camera, have you ever heard a snappier short story? I shutter to think what I shall capture in my little square head next. Stay tuned for more....film at 11:00. "Good Night Chet"..."Good Night David".
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
My bad hair day!
OK. First things first. What is with that hairdo? I've looked at that picture over and over again. And no matter which way I spin the photo...I can't figure out how that little tuft of hair in the middle of my forehead got there. Granted, my mother did give me childhood haircuts. But even on her worst day of hair cutting, I can't see her giving me that Dracula hair style. Minus the wild hair, I'm a pretty good looking kid. And skinny! Ahhh, bring back the Wonder Years so I can be thin again.
At least Beth has her hair intact. Not that she always did. Poor Beth, when she was a little younger than we see her in this photo, her older sisters (we won't mention any names) would play dress up with her. One time they totally teased her hair so that her hair looked something like Phyllis Diller.
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=16518+pannes,compton,ca&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=36.999937,50.712891&ie=UTF8&ll=33.889744,-118.201475&spn=0,359.987619&z=16&iwloc=addr&layer=c&cbll=33.88366,-118.20179&panoid=ugzFbyCPTDq9i-Ea_bH-5g&cbp=12,78.33260840484462,,0,5&iwstate1=dir
Only not that styled.
But you have to admit she was cute. Then there was the time they took her picture with nothing on but a ribbon. I think the older sisters had too much time on their hands.
I suppose we all had our crazy doo's back in those days. (Don't make me produce the photo's) And you all know who you are! The really funny part is that we thought the doo's were stylish at the time. Still, none were as bad as the one I am sporting in above photo.
My Dad had short curly hair and pretty much kept it the same style his whole life. (At least as much as I knew him) As he got older, he had that little bald spot on the top of his head. He passed that on to me...thanks Dad. My Mom and Dad divorced before this photo. Regardless of all that, my Mom never really stopped loving my Dad. I remember one time she saw him in town in a crowd of people. She didn't talk to him, she really didn't even see his face. But she recognized his head and that bald spot on the top of his head. She said she would recognize it anywhere. And ya know?...For some reason, I always associate that story with my Mom still loving my Dad. I'm not for sure if it was because of something else she said at the time, or the way she said it, or the look in her eyes when she thought about it...but divorced or not...Don Gardner was always the love of Eva Gardner.
At least Beth has her hair intact. Not that she always did. Poor Beth, when she was a little younger than we see her in this photo, her older sisters (we won't mention any names) would play dress up with her. One time they totally teased her hair so that her hair looked something like Phyllis Diller.
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=16518+pannes,compton,ca&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=36.999937,50.712891&ie=UTF8&ll=33.889744,-118.201475&spn=0,359.987619&z=16&iwloc=addr&layer=c&cbll=33.88366,-118.20179&panoid=ugzFbyCPTDq9i-Ea_bH-5g&cbp=12,78.33260840484462,,0,5&iwstate1=dir
Only not that styled.
But you have to admit she was cute. Then there was the time they took her picture with nothing on but a ribbon. I think the older sisters had too much time on their hands.
I suppose we all had our crazy doo's back in those days. (Don't make me produce the photo's) And you all know who you are! The really funny part is that we thought the doo's were stylish at the time. Still, none were as bad as the one I am sporting in above photo.
My Dad had short curly hair and pretty much kept it the same style his whole life. (At least as much as I knew him) As he got older, he had that little bald spot on the top of his head. He passed that on to me...thanks Dad. My Mom and Dad divorced before this photo. Regardless of all that, my Mom never really stopped loving my Dad. I remember one time she saw him in town in a crowd of people. She didn't talk to him, she really didn't even see his face. But she recognized his head and that bald spot on the top of his head. She said she would recognize it anywhere. And ya know?...For some reason, I always associate that story with my Mom still loving my Dad. I'm not for sure if it was because of something else she said at the time, or the way she said it, or the look in her eyes when she thought about it...but divorced or not...Don Gardner was always the love of Eva Gardner.
Friday, January 9, 2009
The Wonder Years. Not!
One never really knows what the human mind is going to remember. Especially when trying to recall events that happened some 40 years ago. Still, when I looked at that old photo of Beth and me...my old dinosaur brain kind of got an adrenaline burst. My mind was jumping from event to event and idea to idea so fast, I was even confusing myself. [OK, so that's pretty easy]
So, I took a step back and decided that the tiny few who actually read this blog, would probably get a lot more satisfaction from the reading, if I organized my thoughts a bit. Now I assure you this is not the beginning of another writing like the 'Wonder Years'. Even if it was, it would not be the 'Wonder' of the years; but more likely the: 'I wonder what the hell that kid was thinking' years?
I grew up in a small town in Northwestern corner of Colorado. The town was named Craig, and it actually has a very historic connection to my family. Not many people in this country can lay hold to the fact that their grandparents, or parents, homesteaded land in the United States of America. Well, my family can. The claim is thanks to my grandfather Art Gardner and his son Don Gardner. Of course, all that homesteading took place long before that picture of Beth and me was taken. I myself have never attempted any actual homesteading. Still...I do have that 'determined' look in my eye's...Wouldn't you agree?
Now Craig was really not all that small. The population was about 4000 when I was roaming the streets. To me however, it was huge. Now if you want to talk small town, then we should talk about the country where Art and Don homesteaded. When they went to town, they traveled down a rocky road to Greystone Colorado. There they could pick up the mail and get supplies. There was a sign as you entered Greystone that said: [Greystone: Population 2]. Greystone had the only working gas pump I had ever seen, or have seen since, where you measured the amount of gas you were purchasing visually. A customer would hand pump the gas up into the glass jar, and then disperse it via gravity into their vehicle. Hey, I saw it with my own eyes. Oh man, have we come a long way baby?!
The gas pump was along these lines:
There will be time for homestead stories I imagine. I really just want to provide a little history for some of you who have not heard the family tale before. The photo of Beth and me was taken when I was in the 5th grade. That would have made me about 10 or perhaps 11.
I was born in the month of October. So, when it came time to start Kindergarten, I was almost old enough to go when school started in September...but almost was not good enough and I had to wait another year to start. So, instead on starting when I was 4, and being age 5 throughout the majority of the school year, I had to wait until I was 5 to start, and was age 6 through the majority of Kindergarten. And, it was that way all my life. I was always the oldest in my class. And while most kids were 17 when graduating from High School. I was the older classman at 18. But I'm not bitter. I'm over it. I doesn't bother me much anymore. Actually, looking back, I think it made me a better student.
Craig! The town where I spent my elemantary school years. I remember the winters were hard. On the evening news with Chet & David, Craig was often listed as the coldest town in the Continental United States. The snow was heavy, but then again, I rode my first snow machine in Craig. It was a real Ski-doo! Probably considered vintage now days. Sledding was a fun memory too. Lots of winter sports. Well, that should give you a little glimpse into the Big Little City of Craig. I hope you enjoy hearing about the adventures of Scinton Clinton.
So, I took a step back and decided that the tiny few who actually read this blog, would probably get a lot more satisfaction from the reading, if I organized my thoughts a bit. Now I assure you this is not the beginning of another writing like the 'Wonder Years'. Even if it was, it would not be the 'Wonder' of the years; but more likely the: 'I wonder what the hell that kid was thinking' years?
I grew up in a small town in Northwestern corner of Colorado. The town was named Craig, and it actually has a very historic connection to my family. Not many people in this country can lay hold to the fact that their grandparents, or parents, homesteaded land in the United States of America. Well, my family can. The claim is thanks to my grandfather Art Gardner and his son Don Gardner. Of course, all that homesteading took place long before that picture of Beth and me was taken. I myself have never attempted any actual homesteading. Still...I do have that 'determined' look in my eye's...Wouldn't you agree?
Now Craig was really not all that small. The population was about 4000 when I was roaming the streets. To me however, it was huge. Now if you want to talk small town, then we should talk about the country where Art and Don homesteaded. When they went to town, they traveled down a rocky road to Greystone Colorado. There they could pick up the mail and get supplies. There was a sign as you entered Greystone that said: [Greystone: Population 2]. Greystone had the only working gas pump I had ever seen, or have seen since, where you measured the amount of gas you were purchasing visually. A customer would hand pump the gas up into the glass jar, and then disperse it via gravity into their vehicle. Hey, I saw it with my own eyes. Oh man, have we come a long way baby?!
The gas pump was along these lines:
There will be time for homestead stories I imagine. I really just want to provide a little history for some of you who have not heard the family tale before. The photo of Beth and me was taken when I was in the 5th grade. That would have made me about 10 or perhaps 11.
I was born in the month of October. So, when it came time to start Kindergarten, I was almost old enough to go when school started in September...but almost was not good enough and I had to wait another year to start. So, instead on starting when I was 4, and being age 5 throughout the majority of the school year, I had to wait until I was 5 to start, and was age 6 through the majority of Kindergarten. And, it was that way all my life. I was always the oldest in my class. And while most kids were 17 when graduating from High School. I was the older classman at 18. But I'm not bitter. I'm over it. I doesn't bother me much anymore. Actually, looking back, I think it made me a better student.
Craig! The town where I spent my elemantary school years. I remember the winters were hard. On the evening news with Chet & David, Craig was often listed as the coldest town in the Continental United States. The snow was heavy, but then again, I rode my first snow machine in Craig. It was a real Ski-doo! Probably considered vintage now days. Sledding was a fun memory too. Lots of winter sports. Well, that should give you a little glimpse into the Big Little City of Craig. I hope you enjoy hearing about the adventures of Scinton Clinton.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A Little Tease
I'm going to try to do a little series about my childhood in Smalltown America. Not sure whether it will be a really cool thing...or a bust. Perhaps, if I had some better writing skills, the potential would be greater. But alas, "I yam what I yam". I was actually going to do a single blog posting about the photo you see of 'me and my little sister Beth'. But I started typing and rambling and before I knew it I was babbling like Robert Redford in the Electric Horseman. It was obvious that I had a lot of stories and rather than cram them into one long posting I will try to compose a series of short stories about the boy they called Skinton Clinton. Who, by the way, was really 'Scinton Clinton' as my Mother spelled it in the day. I even screwed that up!
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