Welcome

Copyrighted material by Kerrie O'Hearn Marquart may not be copied without permission unless otherwise indicated in my posts e.g. blog links or craft directions. Thank you!

Friday, January 21, 2011

Remembering the 40's and 50's

Remembering...
In the 40's in my home town, there was a man who walked in the road along the curb with a popcorn machine on wheels.  He sold popcorn as he walked along all over the city streets.  We would see him on South Street on the way to the movies on a Friday night.  Mama took us to the movies often and we loved going.

 I remember the milkman delivering milk in the neighborhood, picking up the empty quart bottles and putting the fresh milk on the step.  Often the homeowner would leave the $.12 (price for 1 qt.) in the empty return bottle.  We did not have milk delivery.  We drank milk from a can of concentrated Pet or Carnation milk with water added.  I hated it and could only tolerate it with cocoa in it! 
   So whenever Mom gave us money for lunch in the summer time, (she and my Dad worked next door in the shoe factory) my brother and I would go to the corner store and buy "real milk" in the bottle with cream floating at the top-YUM!  And a banana for each.  At least this was healthy!

   In high school we still had a wringer washer and Mama worked all week in a shoe factory.  So Saturday was wash day and in between Saturdays, I would scrub my socks white on a washboard to get them clean.  And then if the heat was blowing from the register in my bedroom, I would hang the socks over it to dry them-ha!

It was just the way things were and and some of it we enjoyed and some we didn't.  But the 40's and 50's really was a great time to grow up.

And I still love the songs of the time.  One of my hubby's and my best memories were of the Everly Brother's song "Devoted to You" that we listened to on the radio when we were dating.



Whenever a baby was born in the family (my nieces and nephews)
My Dad would weigh them on a scale like this one.

This little boy on the sled graphic reminds me of the snow suits we wore as children and this graphic looks quite like my hubby in snow suits as a little boy, minus the deco on the hat-ha!

Hope you enjoy looking back as much as I do.

And one last memory....

This is Hunter's Diner in my hometown of Auburn, NY.  It has not changed a whole lot since when I was a little girl.  It was owned by Bob Hunter, my girlfriend, Neila Hunter's father.  Neila and I went all through school together and we were good friends.  Neila lived in a beautiful vintage home with pillars in the front. 

  There was a carriage house in the back and the first dance I ever attended was in the Carriage house upstairs.  We were in 6th grade and Neila made Lilac Corsages for all of the girls attending and pinned them on us as we arrived.  She was the sweetest and kindest person as well as very beautiful.  Neila grew up to marry Joseph Biden.  She was killed with her baby daughter in a car accident before Christmas one year when Joseph was still a Senator.  Who knew he would one day be vice President of our nation??  I followed his career and I love that she was the love of his life.... I had last seen Neila when she was in college.
   Hunter's diner was our teenage hang out among others.  It had Juke Boxes and the indexes of songs at each table.  I still love them!!  After football games, the "gang" usually ended up there.

               God Bless, thank you for visiting and come again soon!

♥KERRIE♥
My nostalgic heart to yours....

2 comments:

from my front porch... said...

Oh, Kerrie! I just to hear stories of nostalgia like this :)
My Nana always has a new story for me. And I still sit and listen, with big eyes, just like when I was a little girl!
Thank you for being a bright spot in my day :)
xo, misha

Ginny said...

Oh, what fascinating stories, I have been rivited! When I show a movie at church, I rent a popcorn machine just like that, only no wheels, we put it on a big table. And we used to get milk delivered even in the 60's! We had a square metal milk box out front. I well remember my mom's wringer washer and the fear that was instilled by horror stories of peoples arms getting caught in the wringer! I was not allowed to fool with it. The story of your dear, sweet friend is so touching, it brought tears to my eyes as I read it to Phil.