Feeling nostalgic
It has snowed here for two days, which is very unusual. We have rarely gotten any snow in the 9 years we've been here. Online we've been talking about where we came from, West Virginia, and the little coal towns that used to be so vibrant and today appear like ghost towns. In my mind I can hear the echoes of Saturday trips. My grandparents dressed up like people used to for church, and we went downtown. You had to circle to park, sometimes many trips. The sidewalks were crowded and often you had to wait and look around while your family talked to others they knew. It seemed to take forever at times.
G. C. Murphy's was THE store to go to. As you went inside, to the right was a horse you could ride for a quarter. I was 5 feet 10 by the time I was 9, so I looked ridiculous on it, but I didn't care, it was fun. From the horse I could see the candy counter, boy it looked good. To the left rear of the store was the lunch counter. Red swirl stools on chrome leg, booths to the right. Up over the booths were the pets; birds, hamsters, bunnies, colored chicks for Easter. Of course now that would get the health department involved. Back then it was just cool. My aunt Helen cooked there for many years. We'd get a drink and sit there and talk to her a bit. My grandmother would look over clothes and housewares, my grandfather went to tools and such. I would get to go through the toys, though I rarely got anything. My granddad was known to pinch a nickel unless it had to do with his hunting and fishing, or if he were drinking - which he did a lot after I turned about 9.
We'd leave there and go to Burger Carte. I was so little I could lie between my grandparents in the front seat of the truck. There we got foot long hot dogs, man they were good! The next part of the day would be heading up the mountain to Fenwick to see my great aunt Florence and great grandmother Cora. She always had a big lay out for dinner, homemade biscuits and gravy, fried apples, several types of meats. For breakfast she had a kind of liquid sausage she mixed with gravy that made her biscuits heavenly! Grandma had a Wimpy bank by her chair and everybody put a coin in. As she got older she couldn't talk much but she could smile. I remember crawling up behind her chair and resting my head on the arm and when she'd catch me she'd just giggle. She was so incredibly sweet. She used to tell stories about her great grandfather and the Indians. Back then I didn't pay that much attention, boy I wish I had after I ran the family history. What a treasure trove of information she would have been.
Saturday nights were always the same. My grandpa went fishing and we watched TV. Before it got late I'd walk next door to the gas station and get a 7-UP and poke a hole in the lid to drink from. They had a pot-bellied stove and old fellows would sit around it and play checkers. The floors were bare wood and always dusty. It had a smell to it of tobacco and coal burning. Back at Florence's house we'd watch Hee Haw and then Saturday Night Wrestling from Oak Hill, MC'd by Shirley Love. My great grandma would look so serious at it, my aunt would talk to the TV like she was controlling the show. I'd usually end up falling asleep listening to them talk. They are all gone now and I miss them.
As I got older I lived with mom, my stepdad and sister in Kimberly. Mom had been sickly since she was 18. I stayed gone pretty much all the time. We'd get together and ride bikes up the hollow to the creek, shovels in tow, to dig out a swimming hole. When that got boring we'd ride back and play football. I was always the victim of a "pile on." We'd climb the mountain behind where we lived and explore. We once cut down trees and made a cabin. For the door we used a shutter from a large window on a shed. About 10 years ago it was still standing, which meant it was there at least 30 years. I don't know if it's there now. The fun was just playing and creating it and acting like we needed to build a home. Nobody ever thought of snakes or bobcats, we just went.
In the winter we had a hill near the house that was pretty steep. My stepdad brought home a heater from the mines and sat it up at the bottom of the hill. We had old tires around it to sit on. I usually just had on jeans, 2 pair of socks, tennis shoes, a tee shirt and jacket, sometimes lucky enough to borrow gloves. The hear I got a new sled for Christmas was amazing. Mom wrapped everything, and she wrapped it and it was leaning against the wall. I looked on in anticipation just as the kid on Christmas Story wanting the BB gun. I was a sneaker when it came to presents, so mom would wrap something crappy, knowing I'd sneak, and then try to watch my reaction while I pretended not to have one.
The whole neighborhood would gather at the hill, sleds, trashcan lids, or trashbags in tow. It took a bit to climb to the top. Once you started down there were spotters watching for traffic in the alley, there were 3 alley roads. The path ended up at the railroad tracks so if you went too fast you had to roll off so you didn't hit them. This went on until late in the night, and often when you took your jeans off you could stand them up. When you took a shower you couldn't even tell the water was warm. Nobody got sick! We'd walk in butt-high snow to catch the bus, which always ran with chains on it. I remember one school day if you rode a bus, but if you could get there, it was open.
We had another hill a little further down the road. It took about 40 minutes to climb to the top. We'd carry jugs of hot water up and pour them down to freeze the path. We'd then get in trash bags, 2 at a time, and down we'd go. It's amazing nobody got killed! As you were climbing back up people would go by so fast you could tell who they were by their screams. So many of those who were there have passed and it's very sad. To get back ONE day would be so amazing. Mom passed when I was 16 and of course the world changed. If I could go back, I'd take that trip to Montgomery, sit up with friends playing board games with mom, go sledding one more time.
G. C. Murphy's was THE store to go to. As you went inside, to the right was a horse you could ride for a quarter. I was 5 feet 10 by the time I was 9, so I looked ridiculous on it, but I didn't care, it was fun. From the horse I could see the candy counter, boy it looked good. To the left rear of the store was the lunch counter. Red swirl stools on chrome leg, booths to the right. Up over the booths were the pets; birds, hamsters, bunnies, colored chicks for Easter. Of course now that would get the health department involved. Back then it was just cool. My aunt Helen cooked there for many years. We'd get a drink and sit there and talk to her a bit. My grandmother would look over clothes and housewares, my grandfather went to tools and such. I would get to go through the toys, though I rarely got anything. My granddad was known to pinch a nickel unless it had to do with his hunting and fishing, or if he were drinking - which he did a lot after I turned about 9.
We'd leave there and go to Burger Carte. I was so little I could lie between my grandparents in the front seat of the truck. There we got foot long hot dogs, man they were good! The next part of the day would be heading up the mountain to Fenwick to see my great aunt Florence and great grandmother Cora. She always had a big lay out for dinner, homemade biscuits and gravy, fried apples, several types of meats. For breakfast she had a kind of liquid sausage she mixed with gravy that made her biscuits heavenly! Grandma had a Wimpy bank by her chair and everybody put a coin in. As she got older she couldn't talk much but she could smile. I remember crawling up behind her chair and resting my head on the arm and when she'd catch me she'd just giggle. She was so incredibly sweet. She used to tell stories about her great grandfather and the Indians. Back then I didn't pay that much attention, boy I wish I had after I ran the family history. What a treasure trove of information she would have been.
Saturday nights were always the same. My grandpa went fishing and we watched TV. Before it got late I'd walk next door to the gas station and get a 7-UP and poke a hole in the lid to drink from. They had a pot-bellied stove and old fellows would sit around it and play checkers. The floors were bare wood and always dusty. It had a smell to it of tobacco and coal burning. Back at Florence's house we'd watch Hee Haw and then Saturday Night Wrestling from Oak Hill, MC'd by Shirley Love. My great grandma would look so serious at it, my aunt would talk to the TV like she was controlling the show. I'd usually end up falling asleep listening to them talk. They are all gone now and I miss them.
As I got older I lived with mom, my stepdad and sister in Kimberly. Mom had been sickly since she was 18. I stayed gone pretty much all the time. We'd get together and ride bikes up the hollow to the creek, shovels in tow, to dig out a swimming hole. When that got boring we'd ride back and play football. I was always the victim of a "pile on." We'd climb the mountain behind where we lived and explore. We once cut down trees and made a cabin. For the door we used a shutter from a large window on a shed. About 10 years ago it was still standing, which meant it was there at least 30 years. I don't know if it's there now. The fun was just playing and creating it and acting like we needed to build a home. Nobody ever thought of snakes or bobcats, we just went.
In the winter we had a hill near the house that was pretty steep. My stepdad brought home a heater from the mines and sat it up at the bottom of the hill. We had old tires around it to sit on. I usually just had on jeans, 2 pair of socks, tennis shoes, a tee shirt and jacket, sometimes lucky enough to borrow gloves. The hear I got a new sled for Christmas was amazing. Mom wrapped everything, and she wrapped it and it was leaning against the wall. I looked on in anticipation just as the kid on Christmas Story wanting the BB gun. I was a sneaker when it came to presents, so mom would wrap something crappy, knowing I'd sneak, and then try to watch my reaction while I pretended not to have one.
The whole neighborhood would gather at the hill, sleds, trashcan lids, or trashbags in tow. It took a bit to climb to the top. Once you started down there were spotters watching for traffic in the alley, there were 3 alley roads. The path ended up at the railroad tracks so if you went too fast you had to roll off so you didn't hit them. This went on until late in the night, and often when you took your jeans off you could stand them up. When you took a shower you couldn't even tell the water was warm. Nobody got sick! We'd walk in butt-high snow to catch the bus, which always ran with chains on it. I remember one school day if you rode a bus, but if you could get there, it was open.
We had another hill a little further down the road. It took about 40 minutes to climb to the top. We'd carry jugs of hot water up and pour them down to freeze the path. We'd then get in trash bags, 2 at a time, and down we'd go. It's amazing nobody got killed! As you were climbing back up people would go by so fast you could tell who they were by their screams. So many of those who were there have passed and it's very sad. To get back ONE day would be so amazing. Mom passed when I was 16 and of course the world changed. If I could go back, I'd take that trip to Montgomery, sit up with friends playing board games with mom, go sledding one more time.
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