Smoke Signals and other news
The calls, text messages, cards, visits, Facebook posts, and gifts totally overwhelmed me this week. If you know me well, you know I do not like being the center of attention; however, three quarters of a century is pretty special. Not everyone gets that opportunity, and I am truly blessed to be in reasonably good health and most days be of sound mind. The changes I have seen amaze even me. Cell phones-most did not even have land lines and, if we did, they were party lines. Local phone numbers were four digits. Calls were limited to three minutes before you were disconnected. I remember the first phone we had in a work truck in the early seventies and how amazing we thought that was. I remember well the bag phone we had when my youngest was a teenager that was typically in her car but was only used if absolutely necessary.
Microwaves. Mom wanted one so badly. My brother and I bought her one and she was so excited. Televisions. I remember walking with mom about ¾ of a mile to watch a friend on a local talent show before I was in first grade. Our first tv was one of the black and white ones with a small round screen. Three channels were available, if you turned the antenna just right.
Home computers, printers, and the Internet did not exist. Research for homework was done from The World Book Encyclopedia (I won a set when I was in third grade) and books from the library. Homework was done in pencil. I remember a night when a report was due the next day and had to be written in ink. There was not an ink pen to be found in our house or my grandparents’ house. I was so embarrassed to have to turn my work in written in pencil.
There were no seatbelts, no dishwashers, no space travel, no automatic washers/dryers, no hot water heaters, no security cameras, few air conditioners or central heat. Dad bought our first refrigerator in 1952 to keep milk cold for me. (It still runs.)
We played outside unsupervised for hours on end. We roamed the pastures and woods without fear of more than being chased by the local bull. Our road was a “dirt” road and both Byhalia Road and Cayce Road were gravel.
Respect for adults was mandatory. We minded our parents, our friends’ parents, and our teachers. A paddling at school usually meant another paddling when you got home.
I rode the school bus and was one of the first ones on and last ones off the bus. Although we lived less than three miles from the school, the bus ride was at least forty-five minutes We would have never truly misbehaved on the bus. We would not have kept the bus waiting for us.
I vaguely remember living in my first house. My bed was in the corner when you came in the front door from the porch. There was a wood heater and no indoor plumbing. There were four rooms, a living room, kitchen, parent’s room and my brother’s room. Somewhere around 1959 my dad, grandfather, and brother built our new house which included my own room. Still there was no indoor bathroom, but at least there was water to the kitchen sink, no air conditioning and only one propane heater. We raised cotton, a garden, cows, pigs, and chickens. I worked in the garden, helped cut the grass with a push mower, fed the animals, gathered the eggs, played in the barn, and followed after my brother whenever he would let me.
Each of these treasures could warrant a full story. I would love to report your news. Call or text me at 901-246-8843, message me on Facebook at Clair Wagg, or email me at jchwagg@gmail.com.