Cowboys, Indians and Pony Rides

My brother and I are only 13 months apart so we were constant playmates when we were little.  We always combined playing house with cowboys and Indians.  I'm not sure that we knew there were girl's toys and boy's toys.  We wore cowboy hats and had cap guns and holsters around our waist.  We used big cardboard boxes to make a fort around our "house" which was a card table with a blanket over it that also served as a tepee when we were the Indians.  We would string cord from the banister to the front door knob for our clothesline.  Dolls were our children.  In the winter time, the floor register was our campfire.  It would get pretty hot when my mother would shovel coal into the furnace.  She wasn't real happy when the clay (our food) melted on the floor register.  Oh, and the time we spilt chocolate milk down the register - she wasn't real happy about that either.

So, when the man came around and asked if we wanted our picture taken on the pony, we got so excited.  Now, we didn't have much money and mother didn't splurge on frivolous things too often, but she ended up saying we could.  And, here we are sitting on our pony.  This was taken in 1953 at our house on State Street.  We were full-fledged cowboys and our pony was the most beautiful and best pony in the world!  Sitting on the pony and playing cowboys and Indians with my brother are some of my most wonderful childhood memories.  
So, when did the guy with the pony stop coming around to take a picture of you sitting on the pony?  He was still coming around in the early 1950s when my brother and I were little.  By the 1960s, I don't think he was coming around anymore.  My sister never got her picture taken on the pony.  So, what happened that ended one of the most wonderful memory makers for any city kid?  

Luckily, for our sister, Ann, we had the best rocking chair ever. It was perfect. The arms were the horses. We would sit on them and rock like we were riding - even the end of the arms looked like horses' heads, don't they? The seat was used as a stagecoach. After my sister, Ann, was born, we pretended she was our child and would put her in the 'stagecoach' and take her on our adventures. We made up stories and played for hours. How this chair has held up for 60 years, I have no idea. It is now in my living room - retired. I'm just glad that we were children of the early '50s and didn't miss the man with the pony.

The picture of my brother, Eddie, was taken when we still lived at 839 College with my grandmother just before we moved to the State Street house. Now, why is my brother all happy and smiling and I'm not? He's got the HAT. He always gets the HAT. And, he doesn't even know how to hold a gun..............he still gets the HAT!

The Blender of My Childhood

I unpacked the boxes that contained the blender and mixer we used when I was a child in the 1950s.  The Waring blender was in the dining room closet along with 2 Sunbeam Mixers exactly where my Grandmother had stored them.  I guess my mother and grandmother both had a mixer.  I'm sure the one with a little more wear was my Grandmother's.  I'm keeping the blender - it is just so cool.  Note that the jar does not have a handle.  The jar was made by Pyrex for Waring and is so marked on the bottom.

Look how clean the bottom of the base is.  I don't remember ever using this for anything other than making malts or milkshakes.  The thing was that they never tasted like the ones you got from the soda fountain at the corner drug store.  But, it was still a big treat when we got to make them - usually on Saturday evening as a family.  My brother and I usually had the honors of making them.

You really had to hold the lid down tight when turned on as it did not fit tight like they do today.  It was so much fun to make the malts, but I sure didn't like cleaning the jar with those blades at the bottom.  I am just so happy to have this wonderful childhood memory sitting on my kitchen counter.

A Special Mother

My brother, Eddie, was 6 years old and I was 7.  Our sister, Ann Elizabeth, had been born in February, 1955 so she was about 8 months old and my beautiful and loving mother, Joan (Rebecca Joan) Smith Beheler

A Special Mother

My mother is no longer with us but will live in my heart forever.  She passed away September 9, 2008 at the age of 87.  She had suffered from dementia with lewy bodies.  Her happiness was her home, being surrounded by her "pretties" and her privacy.  This disease took that away from her.

My mother's greatest gift was her unconditional love for my brother, sister and I.  She raised us kids on her own, working in a factory until she retired.  Growing up as young children in the early '50s, it's amazing what she accomplished through hard work and perseverance.  Although, she had to work outside the home, the rest of her time was devoted to us kids.  She loved us and talked to us about everything.  She would buy records (45s) and play them on our record player.  We'd sing and dance in the living room.  She would read to us from the Bible, especially stories about how Jesus loved little children.

She was also very creative.  She made up her own stories and we loved listening to them when we were little.  We could play with our toys in the living room - I don't think she ever told us not to mess anything up.  We were poor, but we didn't know it because of her unconditional love for us.  Did she ever get mad at us?  Well, the only time she would get mad was if my brother and I would fight.  She did not like fighting at all.  Oh, and maybe the time I cut my sister's hair that had never been cut before ..... we'll just leave that for another story.

My mother enjoyed collecting things and going to auctions and never, ever threw anything away.  She had always saved newspapers even when we were little kids.  She'd like to cut out recipes and fashion advertisements - well, just about anything that caught her attention.  When grocery stores started selling dinnerware in the '50s and '60s, she started buying dinnerware - she liked every pattern!  When she retired, she started going to auctions and really started collecting.  In her eyes, anything old, especially glass, was beautiful and special.  I don't think any auctioneer had to put back a box due to no bidders if she was in the audience.  Most items were still in the boxes that she brought home from the auctions, still carefully wrapped in the same newspapers.  She also loved to read and belonged to about every book club there was.  And, I would almost bet that her Avon rep received sales awards having my mother as her customer.  She saved all of our clothes, our toys and school papers as we were growing up.

It took us about 3 1/2 years to go through all her things.  She had always said we would have fun going through her pretties.  Although none of us were convinced at the time, she was right.  My brother, sister and I found a new closeness that we had not shared in a long time.  Not only did we find our childhood memories, but we also found things including her written personal thoughts that have brought an awareness about how unique and wonderful our mother was.

At times there are tears, but then there is laughter, so, yes Mother, we are having fun going through your treasures.  You see, these "things" are our wonderful memories, too.

We are still going through pictures and letters and trying to put together the puzzle pieces of our family history.  We are in the process of trying to identify as many people in the many pictures that we have inherited.  Along with the old letters, research and memories, we are hoping to put together the living story of our family history for our children and grandchildren.