Queen of the Silver Dollar!

Many years ago, when I was 18 years old in Hutchinson, Kansas, there were three taverns, better know as beer joints down on south main street.  They were known as the 3 Queens.  You should know that it was also about the same time the Navy base was being phased out.  Now brother Jake and I liked to drink and I liked to dance.  In Kansas, at that time any bar worth frequenting had a dance floor.  So, let's set the mood here by clicking on the title of the song!  queen of the silver dollar

So, this oasis down on South Main Street in Hutchinson, Kansas housed a plethora of bars.  Brown Derby, Manhattan Club (which was my favorite), Anchor Inn, another one that slips my mind, and the Crystal Ballroom.  The Crystal Ballroom, which had a giant crystal ball mounted high above the dance floor, was only open on Saturday night.  It was mostly for old people.  There actually was a bar called the Silver Dollar, but it was clear across town on Highway 96 on the way to Nickerson.  I was only there once or twice. I did not like the ambiance there.

The Manhattan club was owned by a man known as "Dutch" somebody.  I would sometimes work the bar so he could go do errands in the afternoon.  A few notes here.  At that time it was illegal to sell alcohol to Indians because it "made them crazy".  It was hard for me to differentiate between them and Mexicans, who could drink until they fell over.  Sure different from now when you are required to serve people of every nationality. 

 There were whores who worked the bars.  I knew only one and her name was Seabiscuit.  That was not her name, but it was her "working name." I do recall she drank White Horse Scotch with cream.  Pretty sure those two things together would curdle, but not my circus; not my monkeys!  I came to know her on a different level.  She once had a family and a home like normal people, her husband had left her and taken the kids and South Main Street became her home and prostitution  her means of survival.

There was another one who was a little "pudgy" and giggled a lot.  I am not sure she charged for her wares, but rather did it for the sheer enjoyment of the work.  Her name was Berniece.  

My step brother, Gene had frequented the bars and they both remembered him.  Since my maiden name was Bartholomew it was easy for anyone to link us together.  Gene Bartholomew, Delbert (Jake) Bartholomew, Louella Bartholomew.

Fights broke out fairly regularly at the Manhattan Club, but as soon as the police arrived the fights stopped and they were warned not to do that again.  I still carry a scar right below my ankle from a beer bottle someone threw across the floor that broke and went into my heel.  

The last time I went to Hutch, I was going to go to South Main Street and check out my old stomping grounds, but I didn't.  The next time I am going to make it a point.  I am willing to bet that the bars have turned into antique shops. That time of my life was over 60 years ago, and time marches on!

My kids will no doubt, cringe in horror when the read this post.  But then again, they may actually be relieved to know that momma was young once and wasn't always a prude.  And they may understand how I figured out what they were doing because Momma done been there and done that!!!

OMG! I am going to throw up!

Few people know that for a brief period in my life I was a heavy drinker.  It is one of the things that I did not succeed at very well.  Actually, not at all.  This journey into my past came up this evening when my oldest daughter called to make sure I was safe from the rioters and the coronavirus.  I am not sure just how the subject of drinking came up in the conversation, but it did.  Oh, I know.  We were discussing the riots that are going on because some jerk knelt on a guys neck and killed him.  The fact that he did that was bad enough, but that he did it while in the capacity of law enforcement made it worse.

Debbie and Hammer had started their life together in a volatile relationship since both of them were drinkers.  She was remembering how two policemen had subdued her by "hog tying " her.  They held her spread eagle above the ground and she was pretty much helpless.  No damage to her and no damage to them in that situation.  The point of that being that a person can be neutralized without pain on injury.  That all became a moot point when I explained to her that I had neve been arrested, and so was never "neutralized".  I further explained to her that I was never a rowdy drunk.  My journeys into the bottom of the bottle always resulted in projectile vomiting.  Thanks to this I also did not end up in the wrong bed at the end of the evening.  When the world started spinning, I got sick.  Now, I do not mean kind of sick.  I mean I hit the bed, hung on with both hands and tried to pass out before what ever I had eaten for the previous  weeks came up.  I never made it and I always wound up praying to the porcelain god and I must confess that the cool water splashing my face was a welcome relief.  Men some how did not want to take a chance on me not getting sick, and I respected their wisdom.

I watched my friends as they "had a drink to relax."  Or partied and had a "really good time."  Not me.  Drinking was to get drunk.  Getting drunk, meant getting sick.  There never was any enjoyment in it at all, so I finally just gave it up as a lost cause.  Kenny never drank and the only time there was any alcohol in our house was when Vi and Mel came in the summer.  We would have a tomato beer.  A tomato beer.  Not beers. A tomato beer and usually it was a quart of beer and a can of tomato juice.  Ah, the good old days.

Now I drink water and sometimes tea.  Coffee for breakfast.  Once or twice a year I stop at McDonalds and get a cola of some sort.  Small one.  A guy in New York sent me a bottle of wine many years ago.  It took me 2 years to drink it down about half way and I threw the bottom half away.  Just don't have the taste for it anymore and I sadly fear that a good drunk would probably kill me at my age now!

Well, I guess I am off to bed.  Nice to know my bed is stable and my dreams are forgotten as soon as they happen!  Y'all have a good one.  May your blessings be many and your worries few and may the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back.

Cheers!

Raised by wolves? Yep, pretty much so!

I think back to when I was raising 5 kids with no child support, no welfare card, no health care and rarely the same baby sitter 2 weeks in a row, and I shudder.  Lucky for me it was back in the day when you could actually leave your house unlocked and went to bed and woke up still alive.  We lived at 217 West 5th in Hutchinson which is now an apartment complex.  It was located across the street from Dillons Supermarket.  5th Street was also Highway 96.  Highway 50 and 96 both run directly to Pueblo, Colorado.  But that is a moot point.  (I just love to say "moot point".)

The kids could walk to school if they were in school at the time.  They went to Allan, as I recall and it was about 4 blocks.   Near the school was a lady named Ferguson who had kids that were mean to my kids.  She watched them after school.  If they were not in school they went to Mrs. Bensing's to be baby sat by  her.  She was the regular babysitter for my day time, 6 days a week job.

To supplement my income I waited tables at the bar on 4th Street.  That was the Dutch Mill.  Back in those days you were allowed to dance in the bars.  Usually there was a juke box, but some times the Mill had live bands.  Oh, those were fun!  I must confess that I did a lot more dancing and not a whole lot of waiting on tables, although since they did not serve food, it was just delivering beer.  Mini skirts were the thing back then and I had pretty legs, so my tips were good.

On the nights I worked I had a lady who came from South Hutch to watch the kids.  She had a car.  I am trying to remember her name!  She was a little short, stout lady and she had a beard.  I swear, more hair on her chin than on her head!  Ida Mae?  Does that sound right?  We will go with that.
Addie Mae was the sweetest little lady.  She was about my height and a little heavier.  She always smiled and never spoke above a whisper.  She always brought a handful of candy.    Always had a secret smile on her face.  The kids were scared shitless of her.

"Is  she was mean?"  "No."
"Does she holler at you?"  "No."
 "What does she do?"  "Nothing."
"Does she give you candy?"  "No."

While at the Red Carpet, I hired the bosses son's wife to babysit and since Allen Ray was in Vietnam, I moved her in with me.  She was pregnant at the time.  That was nice.  When I came home from whatever job I had been to, the house was always clean.  The kids were always quiet and if it was night they were always in bed.  Very well behaved kids.  And then one day I noticed a bruise on Sam's face.  Upon close questioning I determined that she had hit him across the face with a stick she used to paddle all of them with.  I immediately called my boss and told him to get her out of my house before I killed her and proceeded to throw her belongings on the curb so they were easily accessible.  Seems the babies I worked so hard to feed and clothe were being intimidated by (dammit! I forgot her name.  Debbie just called and her name was Janice.)   Bob understood.

Evelyn Decker moved in for a while and between us, we got them up to an age where they were traveling back and forth between their father and me.  They even began to go to school in Garden City and then Lakin.  By that time I was in love again and married and moving to Colorado.  By then Susie was starting kindergarten and was the only child I had at home.  Over the years they took turns living and going to school either in Lakin or out here with me.  Sam is the only one that actually graduated in Pueblo.  Central High, go Wildcats.!  He then attended the University before going to Wichita for his post graduate work.

The years in Hutchinson are mostly a blur.  I do not know whether it was working all the time, or drinking or what, but I am pretty sure I did not earn a "mother of the year" award or the "Susie homemaker award".  I did manage to have all of them survive with no broken bones and no jail time.
Would I do things differently if I could go back?  I sure as hell would.  Momma always said "Hindsight is 100% looking back, foresight: not so much."  I would not have stayed with their father, and I am not sure how I would do it differently, but I would have done something.  The one thing I did learn from those years and the years that followed is this:  "I did the best I could with the tools and knowledge that I had at the time."  My momma told me that.  Momma was very wise! Course Momma is also the one that said my kids were raised by wolves!

Footnote:  I did attend college after Charlie and during Henry and before Kenny.  I received my BA with a 4.0 grade average.  I have a diploma around here some where and it says something about me being an Accountant.  I worked one full time job and one part time job while doing that.  And I drank a lot of Mountain Dew!