I know I speak of my formative years in Nickerson as mostly happy, but there was something lacking. While the majority of the homes in town contained running water and indoor "facilities" the sewer system and the running water had not yet reached our little street. The running water consisted of a pump in the kitchen, a pipe that led from the sink to the wall where there was a hole that let the water run onto the ground out back. We had Muscovy ducks which were very happy with this method of ridding our selves of waste water. Ducks like water and they could always be found in the middle of the mess. That is what ducks do. Interesting note here; to my knowledge Muscovy is the only domesticated duck that is able to fly. At least I think that is right. I had 37 ducks of different breeds here on South Road several years back and only the Muscovy could fly, which they did with amazing regularity right up to roost on my air conditioning unit. Nasty damn things.
Any way, that was the set up for the running water in our house. Bathroom facilities were an entirely different matter. That little job was taken care of out the back door and down the path to the little wooden shack that was perched over a deep hole. The cool porcelain of city bathrooms was replaced by a wooden bench with a hole cut in it and the white roll of "toilet tissue" gave way to the Sears catalog. Sometimes it was a Montgomery Ward. Sears was favored for it's absorption, well all the pages except the ones which were colored because they were slick. Oh, and sometimes we were real lucky and had a corn harvest that produced soft corn cobs, but that was never. And there was always the danger of "picking up a sliver " if one moved the wrong way while on "the throne." That combined with my fear of dark places and black widow spiders was enough to keep me in a paranoid state most of the time and my bowels in a locked state. Those are just some of the hazards of life in poverty Ville.
Using of the facilities in the daylight was one thing, but at night it was an entirely different matter. Living in the country brings a whole new set of problems. First, there were no street lights on Strong Street, or the next street over, or the highway either. Flashlights were unheard of at our house. There was a kerosene lantern which we could use if we could find matches. Now I want you to know that no way in hell was I going out to that God forsaken place alone, and neither would any of the other kids. The river was not far away and sometimes we could hear a cougar or mountain lion calling. I think there might have been a panther at one time or maybe a panther was a cougar. Coyotes yipping in the field behind the outhouse was a regular occurrence. Mother assured us that coyotes were more afraid of us then we were of them, but I was not sure about that!
So I learned early to not drink a bunch of water before I went to bed and thus maybe avoid that trip in the middle of the night. I think the sisters found it easier to wet the bed than walk that lonely walk. It seemed like it was a very long ways to the bathroom, but reflecting back, I do not think it was that far. I think it might have been 60 feet, but it sure seemed a lot farther to my little body. If there was a moon then the shadows scared me, and if I had the lantern the shadows scared me. If an owl hooted then right there was the end of the trip! If I could stay on the path it was alright, but if I veered to the left just a tad I was in a cactus. If I strayed to the right I was in the chicken fence. I do recall how bright the moon used to be out there in the middle of the night. And the stars! There were millions of them. I could pick out the big dipper and the little dipper. I look at the sky at night now and it is very pale. I am glad I have those memories. Kenny and I were in Utah once and lived in a campground. I could see the stars then. I wish I could go back there and appreciate it. The Utah sky is bigger than the Kansas sky.
So, anyway, there you have the drawback to the Strong Street life. But, I survived. I know there are some of you that are reading this that think how horrible that was, but it really wasn't that bad. It was an inconvenience for sure, but it was what it was. I am very glad that I have indoor plumbing now because I am terrified of the dark. I have a night light in the bathroom and if I leave something in the car, it will have to keep until morning. I do not think there is anywhere left in this world where there is not indoor plumbing, but if there is, I do not want to go there.
As I write this, I can see that path in my mind. I remember the neighbors had a concrete floor in their outhouse. Hank Windgate did not have a door. The Ayers family just had a tin tub with a hole in it over a bigger hole. So all things considered, I guess we had it pretty good. My daughter, Debbie, has a saying that seems apropos here: "What doesn't kill you or make you bleed, will make you strong." So there you go!
Any way, that was the set up for the running water in our house. Bathroom facilities were an entirely different matter. That little job was taken care of out the back door and down the path to the little wooden shack that was perched over a deep hole. The cool porcelain of city bathrooms was replaced by a wooden bench with a hole cut in it and the white roll of "toilet tissue" gave way to the Sears catalog. Sometimes it was a Montgomery Ward. Sears was favored for it's absorption, well all the pages except the ones which were colored because they were slick. Oh, and sometimes we were real lucky and had a corn harvest that produced soft corn cobs, but that was never. And there was always the danger of "picking up a sliver " if one moved the wrong way while on "the throne." That combined with my fear of dark places and black widow spiders was enough to keep me in a paranoid state most of the time and my bowels in a locked state. Those are just some of the hazards of life in poverty Ville.
Using of the facilities in the daylight was one thing, but at night it was an entirely different matter. Living in the country brings a whole new set of problems. First, there were no street lights on Strong Street, or the next street over, or the highway either. Flashlights were unheard of at our house. There was a kerosene lantern which we could use if we could find matches. Now I want you to know that no way in hell was I going out to that God forsaken place alone, and neither would any of the other kids. The river was not far away and sometimes we could hear a cougar or mountain lion calling. I think there might have been a panther at one time or maybe a panther was a cougar. Coyotes yipping in the field behind the outhouse was a regular occurrence. Mother assured us that coyotes were more afraid of us then we were of them, but I was not sure about that!
So I learned early to not drink a bunch of water before I went to bed and thus maybe avoid that trip in the middle of the night. I think the sisters found it easier to wet the bed than walk that lonely walk. It seemed like it was a very long ways to the bathroom, but reflecting back, I do not think it was that far. I think it might have been 60 feet, but it sure seemed a lot farther to my little body. If there was a moon then the shadows scared me, and if I had the lantern the shadows scared me. If an owl hooted then right there was the end of the trip! If I could stay on the path it was alright, but if I veered to the left just a tad I was in a cactus. If I strayed to the right I was in the chicken fence. I do recall how bright the moon used to be out there in the middle of the night. And the stars! There were millions of them. I could pick out the big dipper and the little dipper. I look at the sky at night now and it is very pale. I am glad I have those memories. Kenny and I were in Utah once and lived in a campground. I could see the stars then. I wish I could go back there and appreciate it. The Utah sky is bigger than the Kansas sky.
So, anyway, there you have the drawback to the Strong Street life. But, I survived. I know there are some of you that are reading this that think how horrible that was, but it really wasn't that bad. It was an inconvenience for sure, but it was what it was. I am very glad that I have indoor plumbing now because I am terrified of the dark. I have a night light in the bathroom and if I leave something in the car, it will have to keep until morning. I do not think there is anywhere left in this world where there is not indoor plumbing, but if there is, I do not want to go there.
As I write this, I can see that path in my mind. I remember the neighbors had a concrete floor in their outhouse. Hank Windgate did not have a door. The Ayers family just had a tin tub with a hole in it over a bigger hole. So all things considered, I guess we had it pretty good. My daughter, Debbie, has a saying that seems apropos here: "What doesn't kill you or make you bleed, will make you strong." So there you go!
