Nina Gilfert | From The Porch Steps: There Was a Time...
There was a time when we sang happy songs like "Sentimental Journey" and "Oh Buttermilk Sky." Today it seems we have a hard time squeezing out anything happy. I wonder why? People don't seem to sing much anymore.
When I was young my sisters and I and our cousins sang every time we got together, which was usually on Saturday nights. It has been so long I barely remember.
There was Jean and I and Dorothy, Ruth, Janet and Mary Ann. It would start out with Dot playing the piano in their living room in front of the fire place with us standing around singing. We often ended up outside on the front porch. Since their house was on the state highway, we sometimes had folks stop and park across the street and listen.
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One of the leaders of our Girl Scout troop played the guitar and we would sometimes gather in an empty field up above town around a camp fire and sing to the guitar with our voices carrying down over the town. Group harmony is such a great pastime. I wonder why it is no longer popular.
When my cousin Janet and I graduated from high school we went to work in Washington, D.C. and one of the things we did to pass the time was harmonize. Sometimes we had friends who would sing with us and when Janet's sisters would come for a visit we all joined in. I think I could still croak out a few tunes if someone would join in with me.
Do teenage girls still babysit? I was a teenager during the Depression and we would babysit for 25 cents an hour and use the money to buy necessities like socks and underwear. It didn't seem like much but it helped with the family budget.
Those quarters plus the hand-me-downs from our Aunt Betty helped keep us in nice clothes for school.
There was a time when Daddy had an old truck and in the fall we would go nutting. We would find an old walnut tree and gather the nuts that fell on the ground. They were usually still in their jackets and had to be dried and shucked before you could eat them.
We gathered them in October and by Christmas they were ready for the wonderful walnut fudge Mom made and stored away in the buffet until Christmas Day. I wonder what would happen if you drove out into the country today and stopped to pick nuts from under a tree. (If you did that today you would probably get arrested for trespassing.)
Speaking of Christmas time, it was very different when I was a kid. We believed in Santa Claus and I even imagined I saw him through the big window to our porch when he was packing up his bag and leaving one Christmas Eve.
We never saw a present until Christmas morning unless we found their hiding place. You had to be old enough to no longer believe to go searching for those hiding places.
Actually, when you found them you were sorry because it spoiled your Christmas surprise.
When I was a little girl Spiegel, Montgomery Ward and Sears Roebuck sent out their Christmas catalogs in late October just in time for the "wish book" to find the hands of eager little boys and girls. We still believed in Santa Claus but we must have thought he got his toys from the large catalog houses because we looked through those catalogs with wishful hearts.
One of the highlights of our Christmas was Christmas Eve at Grandma's and Granddad's with all our cousins. We always had a Christmas exchange among the girls. The boys didn't go in for that kind of thing. Our price limit was 25 cents, so the gifts were not exactly fancy.
We shopped carefully though and tried to get the nicest things we could, usually handkerchiefs and socks. Back then you could get a fancy box of pretty handkerchiefs or a pair of ankle socks for a quarter. We never allowed the Depression to dampen our enthusiasm.
Our house was in the little bedroom community between Vandergrift and Apollo. We could ride the bus to either place to shop. When my sister Jean was 16 she got a job working in the five and dime in Vandergrift, so when we were down there we liked to stop in and see her.
But Jean was only 5 foot tall so you couldn't see her behind the counter without a great deal of effort. She always thought it was funny to hide from us.
The world was a happier place then. I wish I could bring back those times. I have learned, however, that you enjoy the happy times while you have them because you can never go back. You have to make the best of the times you are in.
Nina Gilfert can be found at ngporch@gmail.com
This article originally appeared on Daily Commercial: Remembering the good times, stored in memory | Nina Gilfert
