This is the final part of my mother’s memoir that she wrote to our
daughter years ago. To read the entire story, in parts, type the title
Rag Dolls and Purple Coaches into the search line on my blog page.
All eleven chapters will pop up for you to choose from. Hope you’ve
enjoyed a little trip into the old days . . . and one last time here:
“There are so many things I remember . . .
The sleighs called cutters we rode in behind the horses in the winter, with
fur robes over our laps and legs to keep us warm and the jingle-jingle of the
bells on the horse’s harness . . .
Walking single file to school in new snow on the road with the big boys going
ahead to start the path and littler kids coming on last. As we went along the
road more children from other houses would join us until we would be a long
line of small people finding our way, playing follow-the-leader.
I remember singing while my sister or my father played the organ–and listening
while my father played his violin or accordian.
I remember the blue coat with its fur collar and the blue velvet Tam-o-Shanter
cap I had in High School. the hat had long blue ribbons from its top and a
brown fur ball was on the end of each ribbon.
I remember the first car my father bought. A new Ford Model-T that cost
$500.00. It had window curtains made of isin-glass. If it started to rain we
had to stop and put the curtains on.
I remember . . . the ice cream we used to make with wild strawberries and
real cream. The ice cream freezer held two gallons. The inside can that held
the ice cream was set inside a strong wooden pail. Chipped ice was packed
around between the two pails and someone had to turn the crank quite a
long time until the ice cream was frozen.
I remember . . . the spruce gum we used to get off the trees. It was not
sweet but we liked it–the corn meal mush we had sometimes for supper–
looking at the stereoscope which was something like a big view-master—
playing dominoes, casino, and Rook on winter evenings— picnics on the
last day of school each year when the whole neighborhood came.
While in High School, I remember going to the silent movies every Saturday
afternoon. Usually it was a Tom Mix western and we liked that. Since there
was no sound to those movies, the conversations were all printed out on the
screen. There was a girl who played the piano all through it and when the
story became very exciting she would speed up the music. She could make
that piano sound just like Tom Mix’s horse, Tony, when he came riding down
the trail-‘clop-a-de-clop, clop-a-de-clop.’
The years went fast. For my High School graduation essay I titled it
‘The Old Order Changes’. It was changing. In a couple of years more Lindberg
would make the first airplane flight across the Atlantic, and I was growing up.”