Trick or Treat!

 Halloween is fast approaching and while it is fraught with bad memories for me, there are also a few that bring me fond memories.  October 30 is/was my first journey into the state of Holy Matrimony.  While that did not last and has a lot of sadness connected with it, it nonetheless gave me all 5 of my children.  That is good.  It is also the day my brother was in a car cras and death claimed him the next day.  So this year I am going to take a journey back to Halloween when I was but a wee lass!

As I recall, Nickerson, Kansas boasted a population of 1200 souls.  Not every street had a street light, but most of them did.  Our costumes usually consisted of paper grocery bags that momma had saved from the Fleming grocery or Berridge IGA.  These were laid out on the table after mother had cut a mouth and eyes in them.  She then dug out broken crayons that she had saved from school last year.  Each one of us colored our grocery bag as we chose.  Jake always made a scar face on his. If you recall, he had a scar on his cheek that he carried all his life because a horse kicked him in the face when he was very young.  Anyway....

We were sent into the world of free candy carrying some sort of bag which we hoped to fill with candy.  We were also reminded to say please and thank you.  And don't be greedy!  Only take one piece.  Now back in those days we did not have to worry about some one putting razor blades in apples or dusting candy with LSD.  Our biggest worry was that the next house would  have a big bowl of candy corn and our greatest hope was that maybe somebody would give us a Hershey Bar.  Candy corn was gross and chocolate was hard to come by.  A lot of the homes had home baked cookies, which was good.  Back in those days the crazies had not yet came out of the woodwork and we could do that.  Not anymore!  Now the sacks have to be filled with individually wrapped items, taken somewhere and x-rayed before eating out of them.

It was always fun going from door to door and knocking.  Usually, some lady or her husband would come to the door and appear to be surprised and pleased to see us.  Usually.  If the porch light was not on that meant they were out of candy, so we just passed them by.  The hardest part of the whole thing was when we came to a block with no houses.  That is where the big boys hid and would jump out and steal our candy sacks.  They were high school kids, so we did not know them, and it only happened once to us, so we were careful to stay in the well-lighted areas.

The best part was when we got home and momma went through the sacks.  She examined each piece to be sure her babies would not bite into a razor blade.  She did not worry about the candy being laced with drugs, because back then, we did not know about the existence of such things.  Oh, the innocence of youth!

The short time I was in Plevna with the grandma's was probably one of my best Halloween's!  Population of Plevna was 109.  Of those few souls, several of them managed to steal a horse drawn buckboard from somewhere and hoisted it onto the roof of the gymnasium at the school.  Not sure they ever figured out who did that, but I think it was some ornery little rascals from Abbyville!  Or maybe Pretty Prairie.

So, here I set in my house that sets on a back acre.  No one will come to my house, because they cannot find it.  I will buy a little bag of miniature Heath bars or Almond Joy bars, just in case.  Course those happen to be my favorite candy bar and if  someone one comes to my house, I will give them one.  But if no none comes, I will have to eat them.  I hate to think of eating something I don't like.  

So there it is!  This year instead of mourning my brother or the demise of my first marriage, I will focus on the positive!  I will remember how happy I used to be all those years ago when we lived in abject poverty on a dead end street back in Nickerson, Kansas.  All I have left of those years is one sister.  The grandma's and aunt's and uncles are all gone.  I have a couple shirt tail second or third cousins, but that is it!

I also have my memories of days gone by and the best part of that is that they are mine and I can remember them as I choose to remember them.  Sometimes my memories make me very sad, but sometimes they are very happy and I can feel love over the years and the miles.  

That is the best part of old age!

Peace!

Back to the good old days where I am safe!

I like it back here when I was still at home and mom and dad were the adults.  Mostly mom.  Dad hung out in the pool hall every day.  This was a place where the old men stopped in to play dominoes and shoot the breeze.  I think they might have sold beer there because us kids were not allowed to go in the place unless it was an emergency and there better be blood involved and it better be squirting. And there must have been a pool table or why else would it be called a "pool hall"?
He was paid a stipend by the man who owned it and he was also allowed to drink coffee or something.  Dad had given up drinking by the time we left the Ailmore place.  Something about alcohol poisoning, some body's husband and God only knew what else.  Oh, he still had the occasional "hot toddy"  which was made with corn liquor, sugar and hot water, but that was only for his cold which he had a lot of colds back then.
On one side of the "pool hall" was the city jail.  It was a small concrete structure about 10' x 10'.  I understand there was a cot in there and bars to keep the miscreant on that side of the room.  I am not sure anyone was every put in there, but I heard stories.  If you spit on the sidewalk, you would go to jail.  If you said a cuss word where a lady could hear you, you went to jail.  (Now I do not know just what yard stick was used to decide who was a lady and who wasn't, but I heard plenty of cuss words and no one was ever arrested on my behalf!)  If you were falling down drunk and making lots of noise, off to the hoosegow with you!  Mostly I just remember the "peace officer"  sitting on a chair in front of the jail some times.  Not very often and I do not remember his name, but he was skinny.
A side story here and then back to Main Street.  Up the street from us lived Jake Smith, who was a retired peace officer.  He showed us the badge and it said "Jake Smith, peace officer."  He also showed us a gun.  It was a pistol and had a very long barrel.  I could not sleep for many nights after that because it was very scary to think that a gun with real bullets was on the same street where I lived.  Jake Smith liked to sit in his front yard on a wooden chair which was leaned back against a tree.  He fell asleep most afternoons and Jake and one of his buddies took a rope and tied him to the tree while he was asleep.  He could be heard cussing away when he woke up to his dilemma!  He never figured out just who was responsible, but he had a pretty good idea.  Back to Main Street.
On the other side of the pool hall was Coringtons Dry Good.  Might have been Woringtons, I am no longer sure.  One wall was bolts of fabrics and things needed to sew.  There were dishes, pots and pans, linens, clothes, coats, tea towels, shoes, tools, nails,and on and on. Mrs. Corington ran the store and she was a buxom lady who never had a hair out of place.  She used to watch us with her arms folded across her chest and I always had the feeling that if I touched anything she would rap my knuckles with a steel rod that she had hidden some place on her person.  I remember how proud I was when I finally had $4.00 to buy a pair of boots that were in the window for years.  They had fur around the top.  These were real boots and not  galoshes.  Galoshes were black and had buckles.  These just slid on my feet over my shoes.
The library was on the corner.  There were many shelves of books and that was heaven for me.  Reading was my escape back then.  I remember how proud I was when I found a book titled Bartholomew Cubbins and the 100 Hats.  Or something along that line.  There were books with pictures albiet black and white mostly, but still pictures!  National Geographic had naked women in it sometimes, but we were not allowed to check those out.  As I recall, that is where I first found Laura Ingalls Wilder and the Little House on the Prairie series.  I read all the books she wrote and worshipped her, well right up until the series came on tv and for some reason I could not stand the innocent little wretch who played Laura in the series.  Forgot her name.
My Antonia by Willa Cather was another, but that was a tad bit racy for my young mind and I am not sure the librarian even let me check that out.  Back in those days the librarian was always an old maid and she stayed in the back with a curtain for a door.  Not sure she lived there, but if she did I am sure she lived alone.  They were also called "spinsters".  I did not want to be a spinster, I was sure of that!
On the corner going towards the school was the grocery store and drug store.  Drug store had a soda fountain and if we had a few extra cents we could get a cherry coke or a vanilla phosphate, whatever that was.  Ingalls candy store and school supplies as on the same side of the street, but a block up. They had a candy counter and a counter where you could get a cold drink or ice cream.  The cold drink was always in a bottle and ice cream was in a bowl.  Mother always took me there after a trip to the doctor.  I was very puny when I was a little girl.  Tonsils were my problem.
Well, I have to go to the Springs today, so I need to get around.  Much as I hate to leave Main Street, I must.  Rest assured I will be back!

Colorado Avenue Antiques, Pueblo, Colorado

Wandered into the old Ambrosia Health Food building the other day and there was my little friends Ron Lombardi and Eric Gibson.  Seems they have bought the building which is 3 floors and done a ton of renovations.  The top floor is an apartment and since it is rented to an individual I could not see it, but I did see before and after pictures and it is fabulous.

The main level and the second level are full of antiques as you can see in the slide show.  The top level is thier antiques and the main level is leased to other people.  They are currently working on the Christmas room which features a silver pompom tree.  But don't tell them I ratted them off.

And across the street looking out the second floor is Netties Candies which I might like to visit.  If you notice the doors have many locks.  That is because it used to be a marijuana distributor.  But now it is an antique place and I love it. 

Colorado Ave. Antiques

112 Colorado Ave.

Pueblo, CO 81004

719-225-8293

Monday -Saturday 10-5

Sunday 12-4

Wonderful way to while away some time and remember the good old days.

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Halloween is a bad time of year.

Yesterday was October 30.  Had I remained with my kids dad we would have celebrated or in some way acknowledged 51 years of marriage, but I did not, and since he is no longer in this world I am assuming he did not either.  1964 marked the one and only time he took me out for our anniversary.  Took me to Saint Catherines Hospital in Garden City, Kansas and I gave birth to my third daughter, Dona Marie.  One year later to the day, he took me on a trip back to Hutchinson as my only brother was in a coma from a car crash the day before.  He died the next morning which was Halloween.  So you see, Halloween is not much fun here at my house.
But I do recall the Halloween's we had in Nickerson and they did not even faintly resemble the ones I see here in Pueblo County.  See. we did not buy a costume.  I had never heard of a costume shop.  We did what is know as improvise.  If mother happened to come across an old sheet in one of her cleaning jobs that was cabbaged on to and brought home and saved for Halloween.  Cut a couple eye holes and you were good to go as a ghost.  Old clothes were never tossed until after Halloween.  Hell, they were never tossed.  More about that later.  So when we left the house we were dressed as a ghost, a farmer (overalls), or a hobo (a stick with a bundle on the end of it), or a little kid going to school. The inside of the old wood stove gave us the black paint necessary to smear on our face so nobody knew who we were.
Brother Jake always led the pack with strict instructions that he was to watch out for the little ones and not let them get lost out there in the dark.  Hell, we held on to each other and if one of us got lost, we were all goners.  We knew that this was Halloween and that meant the real ghosts were out there and the Gypsy's were camped on the edge of town and we might not ever get home again.  Halloween was a very dangerous time.  I do not think sister Joanne went with us because she became interested in the boys very early and married an older man from town before I was even old enough to really know what marriage even was.  I just knew he had a black and white car and it was really nice.  But back to the streets.
"Oh, look Elmer, it is all six of them!  Let's see what we got here for these little ghosts and goblins."  And we would all hold out our brown paper bags which were saved just for this occasion. See back in those days there were no plastic bags.  Those came much later and were considered a luxury.  And she would smile at each of us and put a home baked cookie in our bag.  Or a piece of cake, or fudge or a hand full of store bought candy corn if we were really lucky.  Some times we would each get an apple.  Or an orange.  Most times they were just wrapped in a piece of wax paper or maybe nothing at all.  But that was back in the day before people started putting stuff in the home made cookies to kill little kids or sliding a razor blade into an apple so when they bit into it their gums would be sliced.
Yeah, that was back in the good old days of front porches, happy neighbors, good clean fun and everybody watching out for the little ones.  And as much as I miss those days, there were signs then of what was to come.  Nickerson was a little town with maybe 1200 people, but even then there were signs of what was to be.  We knew we needed to be off the streets and home before 8:00 because then the bullies came out.  Only one year did the bullies get our candy.  They just ran out of the dark and grabbed out bags and ran away.  My God, mother could her us wailing as we came home and thought surely the Gypsy's had gotten one of us this time for sure.  But my mother was wise beyond belief.
She knew who the bullies were and she was not even there.  The next day she left the house early and when she returned she had a big brown sack full of goodies for us.  Of course we immediately ate enough to make us very sick.  But the point here is this;  small towns are open books.  You just kind of know who the trouble makers are.  There were three of them in our town and they hung together.  Now whether my mother went to the bullies homes or just did daylight trick or treating and explained to every one what had happened,  I do not know. 
And trick or treating and Halloween aside, I would not trade my growing up years in Nickerson, Kansas, for all the tea in China.  While we were poor, we were rich.  I had a guy tell me just yesterday that he is rich beyond beleif because he has friends and a home and a dog and what more could one man need.  And he is right.  As I get older I find it takes less to make me a happy content woman.  Nickerson is always in my head.  I can travel to the ends of the world and meet Kings and Queens, but I will always be the little ragamuffin girl from Nickerson, afraid of my shadow and always needing my momma.  I can bury my brother, but I can never bury Louella Bartholomew because she will live forever my heart.   My hope is that some day, some one will pick up one of my journals and actually read it and think, " I would love to have met this woman.  And her mother.  And her brother.  And I wonder where her kids are today."
But right now, this is just another day to get through and I can feel my brother over my left shoulder as I write this, and I can see his lopsided grin and the long scar on his left cheek where the horse kicked him when he 9 years old and he snuck up behind the horse and "goosed" it.  He changed the date on his birth certificate and joined the Army at 16 years old.  That was before computers.  I sure do miss that boy and can not help but wonder about the man he could have become had he stayed on this side of the veil with me.  I guess today I will mourn the "what could have been." 
Happy Halloween.