As the World War II was just getting under way, there became a shortage of nearly everything, sugar was short, meat , coffee and many other thing were rationed. And as it happened so was bicycles. But I was to get one despite hell and high water. This was with the total approval of the FEDERAL GOVERNMENT, for in truth Mr. Leo Fay, postmaster, was in need of a "special delivery' person. But a bicycle was a necessity and therefore the people in charge of rationing were forced to allow me the privilege of having a new bike.
My new bike was delivered in a knockdown condition meaning someone with knowledge
needed to do some assembly work. That fell to Wade Funk, our neighbor, who came
over at lunch and put my bike together. I rode it to school to show it off.
In the delivery of "SPECIAL DELIVERY'" letters and small packages I had to find people I didn't know, or where they lived. In finding and locating the recipients of important mail I really learned the community and as some say where the bones were.
Not that there was any type of bad things happening, there was that mystique that is associated with minding ones own business.
Since I was paid by the post office guess what?? Right, I had to have a Social Security Number. Words I could spell but defining was another subject, for after all what was security to me anyway, I had security I had Nanna. In any event I did get one and I did one month (Christmas Time) earn enough to have a dollar deducted for deposit in some place unknown to anyone, oh well!This served me well for about a year and a half.
Since I came to realize that I could not abide a poke in the back at school, as I have spoken of this before, and I ended my relationship with Mt. Carmel and entered what had been described as everything but what it was, public school.
At this time I also ended my tenure as "special delivery boy". This was the beginning of what has turned out to be a sixty plus year friendship.
By the time high school came around I had been delivering The Albuquerque Journal for several years. It was odd how I got the paper route, for one thing the manager didn't think that I was big enough, strong enough or Lord only know what. But the paper boy that I was going to replace assured Mr. Schubert that he knew I could handle it, and that he had already taught me the route. So Mr. Schubert talked to my Nanna and came to agree with Nanna and Billy Caldwell that at twelve I was old enough. After all Billy was just a bit older (2 or 3 years I think).
So as the first two years of high school past I delivered 27 miles of paper route every day. My first big money job, and I owed it to Bill Caldwell. I think I delivered papers for a little over three years.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
HOW TO ACQUIRE AN INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR MEXICAN FOOD
I have mentioned my next door neighbors, the JOJOLA family, ans I am sorry that I can't recall all of the names, only CIPRANO the youngest and Mary the next one up. Then there was of course Mr. and be sure it was MISTER and Mrs. and that was MOMMA JOJOLA. In addition I think I remember three other girls, I was running so much in those days I couldn't catch names, I was in fact running from the three girls. Might not have been so bad had Mary been a part of chasers, Mary just avoided the bit.
This ritual went on from the time they moved to their home and lasted until I was about a junior in high school. It came about in this way, Ciprano and I played western shoot'em ups in the arroyo behind our house and into the flats above it.
When we would be called to come eat, do chores (his house or mine), what ever cause it signaled to the three girls it was "Kiss on David time" and I, not being worldly ran. They would chase and generally catch me and lay it on me. Wow, and why I ran I just.......
Now let's get to the "hang the hog". Mister Jojola would pass the word around, I would get the information from Mary or Ciprano, that on a certain day the "hanging"
would take place. Those of us privy to the event would be available the evening before to help in the chores preceding the "hanging". There was wood to gather,
coffee tins (the large ones) to be rinsed, cheese cloth cut and made into strainers.
These were the chores that allowed the participant to watch the machinations required to do this "hanging", and to participate in the consumption of product derived from the "hanging".
Mister Jojola was quite adept at backing the honoree into the choice position at this particular fete. When the honoree was securely bound in his new hemp garment (better known as ropes to a come-along) Mister Jojola dispatched the hog with a couple of rounds from a large caliber weapon of which the hole in the end weighed five pounds. Before the hog could fall it appeared that the back part of this beast
was up in the air hung on the quad pole rigging and being hoisted upward by men pulling the come-along.
The immediate bath of soapy water, applied by some of the women, followed by the adept use of a very sharp straight razor and the guest of honor was fully shaved of his bristled hair. He again was bathed with hot water and damp dried. The following
was not particularly pleasant however it was part of life and learning.
The beast was to be surgically slit about the throat in order to drain his blood.
The blood was to be used in the making of various Mexican food stuffs, including both
pork, and blood and pork, sausage.
In the tedious job of dismantling the beast care was at the highest to be sure that contaminates were at a minimum and that all of the part were cleaned and the refuse disposed of in a proper manner (buried in the going to be garden). The first item removed of course was the head, thoroughly cleaned and ready for baking, the first process in securing the main ingredient for tamales (shredded pork). Either Mrs.
Jojola or a designated neighbor would be in charge of baking the head and making the tamales.
The large black cast iron pot (about a 7 gallon size) was already heating up on the pyre built especially for this use. As the sliced fatty hide was cut into future pieces of chincharonas (chitlins to you other folks) the were put in the heating pot and rendered of its lard, removed and spices added while still hot. The waiting youngsters (me too) waited in line to savor the first of the offering from the guest of honor.
The distribution of the pieces parts of the dismantled beast was, I am sure, by some prearranged plan. But rest assured all of the participants went home with more than they came with, Nanna was always ready for the makings of bacon which she cured and the slab for the salt pork barrel.
I forgot to mention that as the fat was rendered it was strained through cheese cloth
pads into the clean coffee tins. The end product was pure white lard, a staple in good cooking: flour, some lard, salt, water for tortillas: heated lard for deep fried meats: and this is just a start.
Now I should tell you, those of you that didn't know my Nanna, she spoke seven different languages, English, French, German, Romanian, Polish, Russian, and Finnish. But not one work of Spanish, not a single syllable. Now Mrs. Jojola spoke
Spanish, and only Spanish. And to this day I know not how these two women communicated with each other. I know they did for I was caught by the passing of a simple phrase from Mrs. Jojola. Nanna was talking to Mrs. J. (Nanna speaking Polish) made a statement concerning my not eating as she thought I should. Well Mrs. J. said ' nothing wrong with David, he eats just fine with us.' So this will be the rest of the story concerning being chased by the girls.
I would sometime elude capture and go home, but more often than not in the attempt to escape one of the girls would shout out ' its time to eat ' I would try to free myself to go home and the next thing I would hear is ' it's your favorite ' and a description of my favorite 'tamales with green chili', enchiladas with chicken, beef, bean, cheese, there was always 'my favorite', so it was no wonder Mrs. Jojola gave me away, but it is okay, I still have a craving for Mexican food.
*************************************************************************************
Thanks to Alice and Marianne we have pictures of the event and descriptions of the festivities. They will tell you of the individual feelings about this event, the good, the extra good and dash of the gore. Pictures and comments found as the last item on the main menu "Matanza Hang the Hog". Thanks for dropping in. dave
This ritual went on from the time they moved to their home and lasted until I was about a junior in high school. It came about in this way, Ciprano and I played western shoot'em ups in the arroyo behind our house and into the flats above it.
When we would be called to come eat, do chores (his house or mine), what ever cause it signaled to the three girls it was "Kiss on David time" and I, not being worldly ran. They would chase and generally catch me and lay it on me. Wow, and why I ran I just.......
Now let's get to the "hang the hog". Mister Jojola would pass the word around, I would get the information from Mary or Ciprano, that on a certain day the "hanging"
would take place. Those of us privy to the event would be available the evening before to help in the chores preceding the "hanging". There was wood to gather,
coffee tins (the large ones) to be rinsed, cheese cloth cut and made into strainers.
These were the chores that allowed the participant to watch the machinations required to do this "hanging", and to participate in the consumption of product derived from the "hanging".
Mister Jojola was quite adept at backing the honoree into the choice position at this particular fete. When the honoree was securely bound in his new hemp garment (better known as ropes to a come-along) Mister Jojola dispatched the hog with a couple of rounds from a large caliber weapon of which the hole in the end weighed five pounds. Before the hog could fall it appeared that the back part of this beast
was up in the air hung on the quad pole rigging and being hoisted upward by men pulling the come-along.
The immediate bath of soapy water, applied by some of the women, followed by the adept use of a very sharp straight razor and the guest of honor was fully shaved of his bristled hair. He again was bathed with hot water and damp dried. The following
was not particularly pleasant however it was part of life and learning.
The beast was to be surgically slit about the throat in order to drain his blood.
The blood was to be used in the making of various Mexican food stuffs, including both
pork, and blood and pork, sausage.
In the tedious job of dismantling the beast care was at the highest to be sure that contaminates were at a minimum and that all of the part were cleaned and the refuse disposed of in a proper manner (buried in the going to be garden). The first item removed of course was the head, thoroughly cleaned and ready for baking, the first process in securing the main ingredient for tamales (shredded pork). Either Mrs.
Jojola or a designated neighbor would be in charge of baking the head and making the tamales.
The large black cast iron pot (about a 7 gallon size) was already heating up on the pyre built especially for this use. As the sliced fatty hide was cut into future pieces of chincharonas (chitlins to you other folks) the were put in the heating pot and rendered of its lard, removed and spices added while still hot. The waiting youngsters (me too) waited in line to savor the first of the offering from the guest of honor.
The distribution of the pieces parts of the dismantled beast was, I am sure, by some prearranged plan. But rest assured all of the participants went home with more than they came with, Nanna was always ready for the makings of bacon which she cured and the slab for the salt pork barrel.
I forgot to mention that as the fat was rendered it was strained through cheese cloth
pads into the clean coffee tins. The end product was pure white lard, a staple in good cooking: flour, some lard, salt, water for tortillas: heated lard for deep fried meats: and this is just a start.
Now I should tell you, those of you that didn't know my Nanna, she spoke seven different languages, English, French, German, Romanian, Polish, Russian, and Finnish. But not one work of Spanish, not a single syllable. Now Mrs. Jojola spoke
Spanish, and only Spanish. And to this day I know not how these two women communicated with each other. I know they did for I was caught by the passing of a simple phrase from Mrs. Jojola. Nanna was talking to Mrs. J. (Nanna speaking Polish) made a statement concerning my not eating as she thought I should. Well Mrs. J. said ' nothing wrong with David, he eats just fine with us.' So this will be the rest of the story concerning being chased by the girls.
I would sometime elude capture and go home, but more often than not in the attempt to escape one of the girls would shout out ' its time to eat ' I would try to free myself to go home and the next thing I would hear is ' it's your favorite ' and a description of my favorite 'tamales with green chili', enchiladas with chicken, beef, bean, cheese, there was always 'my favorite', so it was no wonder Mrs. Jojola gave me away, but it is okay, I still have a craving for Mexican food.
*************************************************************************************
Thanks to Alice and Marianne we have pictures of the event and descriptions of the festivities. They will tell you of the individual feelings about this event, the good, the extra good and dash of the gore. Pictures and comments found as the last item on the main menu "Matanza Hang the Hog". Thanks for dropping in. dave
THE GREAT MELON CAPER and MY OTHER BEST FRIEND
The Great Melon Caper
Each of us, even on a bad day, have something to be truly thankful for. It may be only a quick smile from someone who cares, the greening of the lawn, summer comes.
There are the rarer things in our lives that we often forget, but on the off day our thoughts return us to another time and to remember the wonders of that time.I remember the hot summers in Socorro, New Mexico, where as a boy I learned the wealth of being alive was not in gold by rather in dear and near friendships.
Oh! sure there were times when things got rough because of infractions of the rules of conduct, but none that could mar my friendship with Neil and Gordon. Neil, the sheriffs boy and Gordon the Baptist Ministers son, and I, ah yes we were the ones for all of it.
The summer of '47 it was, the heat was worse than usual, but the planned hayride to the swimming pool was set for Saturday. At the Baptist church the hay wagon was next to the building and laden with watermelons on ice cooling for the next days church hay ride and picnic.
The pooling of resources was a common practice among the three of us, if one had then all had, thus it came to pass that we had the necessary funds for the stop at the 'Bucket of Blood' Damian Padilla's Bar and Package Liquor store. I, being the designated buyer as always, entered the bar purchased the necessary ingredients and returned to the car.
After making several passes by the church, we determined that it was safe enough for us to complete the job intended.
Saturday morning the wagon loaded with cool watermelons were dispatched to the picnic area, along with willing parishioners and unsuspecting guests.
The dear old ladies of the church were all nodding and chatting about the church, about the watermelon, about the needs of the church, about to watermelon, about the next mid week bible study, about the watermelon.
And then, yes then the sheriff arrived and Hell Hath no fury like a Sheriff who finds that his son and two compadres have spiked the watermelons with Everclear. It is no wonder the dear ladies were nodding .
****
I must add the following tidbit of useless information.
Rev. Stirling. the pastor of the Baptist Church was a very kind and gentleman, not only to his flock but to every one who came in touch with him.
To this day I know not what possessed the three of us to stoop to the use of the
sheriffs cattle syringe and obtaining a bottle of Everclear (I purchased it illegally at Damian Padilla's 'Bucket of Blood' saloon on the corner next to the bakery) and further spiking each of the melons with a shot of the potent fluid, thus initiating the fermenting process on the delicate insides of the melons, the result was the nodding of the Dear Ladies Of the Baptist Church.
****
My Other Best Friend..
He came to me as a gift. And could not have arrived at a more opportune time as there was a rift in our family. I had decided that I should live with my Nanna and in so doing there was a building of hard feeling between me and my Mom. The feelings would cure themselves after a time, but I digress.
Each morning Nanna would wake me before 5AM so I could be off to get my papers at the depot. When I returned, she would get my breakfast and then scurry me off to school.
When one Saturday, paper route collection day, as I was nearing the end of my collections my next one would be the brother-in-law of one of my classmates.
As he was getting his change together I played with his beautiful half shepherd
half yerges. This brown and white pooch stole my heart, and lo, with sinking stomach I left to finish my route.
As I opened the back door to the porch, I heard my Nanna speaking to someone I didn't see, that is until I entered the dining room. There was Ruby Lee Hawk, her brother-in-law, and to my great delight my gift, Spotty.
I would have Spotty for three joyful years. He would be out front awaiting my return from papers, school, and in the summers from what other fancy might take me from him.
His favorite attention getter was the ritual of being first in line for Nanna's hot cakes for breakfast. He would sit up and paw the air until she would fix his plate, he also had to have syrup on the cakes too.
Often in silence of thought and sound I see and hear Spotty, his beautiful brown and white coat shimmering in the wind as he stretched in leaps to rush to me.
In truth I hope that I am in part as good as my Spotty thought I was.
****
Define yerges, derived from parts of Southern pronunciation of words, to wit:
Northern, common English beginning would sound like "your" as in "your are". While in the Southern or Texan it would sound like "y'ear", the phrase in plain English would be "your guess" while the Southern/Texan would be "yerges be good as mine"."
Note: Northern question requires 3 words while Southern needs only 2 words.
****
Each of us, even on a bad day, have something to be truly thankful for. It may be only a quick smile from someone who cares, the greening of the lawn, summer comes.
There are the rarer things in our lives that we often forget, but on the off day our thoughts return us to another time and to remember the wonders of that time.I remember the hot summers in Socorro, New Mexico, where as a boy I learned the wealth of being alive was not in gold by rather in dear and near friendships.
Oh! sure there were times when things got rough because of infractions of the rules of conduct, but none that could mar my friendship with Neil and Gordon. Neil, the sheriffs boy and Gordon the Baptist Ministers son, and I, ah yes we were the ones for all of it.
The summer of '47 it was, the heat was worse than usual, but the planned hayride to the swimming pool was set for Saturday. At the Baptist church the hay wagon was next to the building and laden with watermelons on ice cooling for the next days church hay ride and picnic.
The pooling of resources was a common practice among the three of us, if one had then all had, thus it came to pass that we had the necessary funds for the stop at the 'Bucket of Blood' Damian Padilla's Bar and Package Liquor store. I, being the designated buyer as always, entered the bar purchased the necessary ingredients and returned to the car.
After making several passes by the church, we determined that it was safe enough for us to complete the job intended.
Saturday morning the wagon loaded with cool watermelons were dispatched to the picnic area, along with willing parishioners and unsuspecting guests.
The dear old ladies of the church were all nodding and chatting about the church, about the watermelon, about the needs of the church, about to watermelon, about the next mid week bible study, about the watermelon.
And then, yes then the sheriff arrived and Hell Hath no fury like a Sheriff who finds that his son and two compadres have spiked the watermelons with Everclear. It is no wonder the dear ladies were nodding .
****
I must add the following tidbit of useless information.
Rev. Stirling. the pastor of the Baptist Church was a very kind and gentleman, not only to his flock but to every one who came in touch with him.
To this day I know not what possessed the three of us to stoop to the use of the
sheriffs cattle syringe and obtaining a bottle of Everclear (I purchased it illegally at Damian Padilla's 'Bucket of Blood' saloon on the corner next to the bakery) and further spiking each of the melons with a shot of the potent fluid, thus initiating the fermenting process on the delicate insides of the melons, the result was the nodding of the Dear Ladies Of the Baptist Church.
****
My Other Best Friend..
He came to me as a gift. And could not have arrived at a more opportune time as there was a rift in our family. I had decided that I should live with my Nanna and in so doing there was a building of hard feeling between me and my Mom. The feelings would cure themselves after a time, but I digress.
Each morning Nanna would wake me before 5AM so I could be off to get my papers at the depot. When I returned, she would get my breakfast and then scurry me off to school.
When one Saturday, paper route collection day, as I was nearing the end of my collections my next one would be the brother-in-law of one of my classmates.
As he was getting his change together I played with his beautiful half shepherd
half yerges. This brown and white pooch stole my heart, and lo, with sinking stomach I left to finish my route.
As I opened the back door to the porch, I heard my Nanna speaking to someone I didn't see, that is until I entered the dining room. There was Ruby Lee Hawk, her brother-in-law, and to my great delight my gift, Spotty.
I would have Spotty for three joyful years. He would be out front awaiting my return from papers, school, and in the summers from what other fancy might take me from him.
His favorite attention getter was the ritual of being first in line for Nanna's hot cakes for breakfast. He would sit up and paw the air until she would fix his plate, he also had to have syrup on the cakes too.
Often in silence of thought and sound I see and hear Spotty, his beautiful brown and white coat shimmering in the wind as he stretched in leaps to rush to me.
In truth I hope that I am in part as good as my Spotty thought I was.
****
Define yerges, derived from parts of Southern pronunciation of words, to wit:
Northern, common English beginning would sound like "your" as in "your are". While in the Southern or Texan it would sound like "y'ear", the phrase in plain English would be "your guess" while the Southern/Texan would be "yerges be good as mine"."
Note: Northern question requires 3 words while Southern needs only 2 words.
****
HARRIET HOUSE
As a growing boy in dusty Socorro in the 1930's there were very few big homes that a child might want to visit. I had been to the Bursum's (Dave Paxton lived there), next door was Mrs Chambon (the subject name used in a story I wrote as a ghost), there was the Fitch and Darr homes, the 'castle' of Stauder and the Tom Brown home behind the Val Verde Hotel and the the next to last was the relatively new Garnett Burkes home (became the Damian Padilla home). I saved the HARRIET HOUSE for last for the purpose of clarity. The homes listed were for the most part occupied by the more or less self anointed elite, don't misunderstand they were good folks and did a lot for the community, just didn't reach to the younger folk. My grandmother used to take me for car rides (I got to ride in the rumble seat), we went every where there was a paved road. So it was that we often drove by the HARRIET HOUSE. My grandmother belonged to the Catholic Ladies Aid Society and this is where she came to know Mrs. Harriet, and through this a young lad with a rapid beating heart and eyes filled with awe stepped up the front steps past the chain held swing entered into a world apart yet so near because of the beautiful and friendly family THE HARRIETS....
HIGH SCHOOL WE ARE HERE
In going to High School there were certain changes I had to make, adjusting my paper route to speed up delivery so I would be able to get home and eat breakfast, as still get to school on time. In redoing my route I had to have a map lay out in the
event I had to have someone (Bill) deliver. I would give the route up to a new kid in school (sorry can't remember his name) trouble is when the snow came it was obvious that he wasn't going to keep it. As a favor to Mr. Schubert I took it back and had it for several months. Mr. Lane an elderly fellow, had the route some time back, asked me to let him know if I was going to give it up, and that was all I needed. The Journal into the capable hands of Mr. Lane.
When one enters high school, if a parent does not accompany the student to school, the student generally picks the subjects he/she wants to take and registers for those and it's a done deal, right? Well yes, in most cases, however in mine it seems that Mrs. Moran (yes from grade school) and Mr. Cox (same place) had suggested that I was well suited for the harder subjects and should not take any of the so-called dumb-bell subjects (general math, first year English, general science, you can see where this is going). So I had to just throw away my schedule and accept what Mr. Coffey and Mr. Bell decided I should take. So much for democracy, but now, in retrospect, I am glad it went the way it did.
I was not the head of my class, nor was I the tail end. There were some subjects that I really liked and others that drove me nuts. Later when I took Physics I found how much I needed a better background in math sciences. But oh well.
As it turned out in later years I became a Systems Engineer, designing computer programs for computers to run other computers, as well as general accounting programs. I designed the city/county/school district/water district/electric billing
and account for municipal power utilities and also for REA's (Rural Electric Assoc.)
These systems required inclusion of an extensive FEDERAL POWER REPORT. A report
so detailed that it accounted for even a barn light on a farm.
All of the above were based on the new two bank account methods of accounting for income from governmental enterprises and revenue income. Prior to this system entities kept account of fund by having a bank account for each enterprise and each revenue account. In many cases my method resulted in an extra source of income, we bargained with the banks for better interest on savings. So all was not lost.
I will tell you another story, if you don't mind. Mrs. Moran followed me to high school from the grade school. My sole purpose in life was to avoid having her , ever, as a teacher. And of course, not having control over selections of classes I ended up with her. This subject was Latin American Affairs, should be by the title a class in political science or social studies, well never mind it, the text that is,
was tossed the first day as was a rule in Mr. Moran's classes. And we will operate and learn from other sources.
In the beginning of this there was a lot of doubt that this would fly. But fly is only the tip of what happened.. Mrs. Moran opened a vista of South America that was
well worth the effort to get to class. The bottom line to this is when years later I went to the movie "Chariot of the God's" and I read the book, and I also read "Worlds in Collision" by Immanuel Velikovski. I found an interesting thing, I knew of many of the items in "Worlds in Collision" and large amount of "Chariots" must have come from the same sources Mrs. Moran cited in that class.
I have in my fondest memories of teachers that were above the norm. Though I personally tried to avoid Mrs. Moran I do concede that I learned more from her as
regards English composition (this blog excluded please) and not withholding credits for Latin American Affairs.
Meeting new classmates was of particular interest to me, I supposed that this was what was meant by bonding. I call it getting along with as opposed to not getting along. For the most part I was on a par with most every one. I probably had a few enemies but not many and only that I can remember and God Bless him he is gone.
One of the important ideas of learning was 'the how too or how not too' and this primarily applied to one's attitude toward the distaff of the party. So much to learn and so little time to do it ALL.
As the forever ribbing of one kind or another, Lord forbid that you have a fever blister on the lip and a female class mate come forth with the same affliction.
Through these times we grew in physical being, and I must say that for the best of these the feminine growth was handled better than the male. Oh sure, we all made it and fortunately the only serious illness for any of us was Leo Funk. We very nearly lost him to a ruptured appendix. I am discounting the broken legs and such for this is normal for the most part.
There was another accident that hurt another class mate. Kenneth Edwards was in the back of a pickup standing up, other Boy Scouts were sitting down. The driver had stopped momentarily to let another Scout on, and then drove forward. In retrospect it is a good thing that the tail gate was down, else Kenny could have fallen backwards and landed on this head, as it was he walked (stumbled) backward and stepping off landing on his feet, but wanting to go the wrong direction. In the fall he hurt is left knee pretty bad. The worst tho was he hit his head pretty hard and ended up with a couple of stitches over his left eye. He was a tough guy and made it fine, Now, Anna Marie, his mom is another story that accident put her down for about a week. Anna Marie Edwards was not a real well person, Bless her heart.
In the beginning year of high school I was one of the chosen to take courses for which I didn't know I was prepared. From grade school came the recommendation that I take Algebra, American Literature, Shop, Band, and a couple of off the wall things I can't remember.
Starting with Mr. Coffey, my favorite teacher along with Mr. Gracie. Mr.Coffey was sort of expecting things from me and I think it was because of Mr. Cox, in grade school I had no trouble with math at all and Mr. Coffey expected the same in HS and
to a degree I was able to give it to him. In the Algebra class I was paired with Raymond "Butch" Vigil. It became absolutely clear that the two of us were going to show how it (defining 'it' was another pass) going to be. During the first half of the year "Butch" and I were fairly well ahead of the rest of the class. This is not braggadocios talking only fact. It is true math was not really that hard and beside that I must admit that the doing of homework was a snap. The reason for it being a snap was that there was a group meeting in a booth at Mrs. Petty's Confectionery and Malt Shoppe.
I especially liked the Malt Shoppe meeting for it afforded me the pleasure of sitting next to Carolyn Walters, whom I had a healthy feeling for. It would be over a year before the fulfillment of a date with Carolyn would come to fruition. Again I digress, it was in the booth at the Malt Shoppe that was born the dual
efforts in completing Algebra homework and being sure the answers were correct. And there was NO failure. For "Butch" and I there were in two more years more fish to fry.
Mr. Gracie was my other favorite but it was not for band but science. His Biology, Zoology, and Science classes were for me outstanding. I enjoyed and excelled in all of them. The field trip to the gorge just north of the runway was great field trip, spiders, horn toads. bugs of all sorts, and tarantulas. We had specimens for a long time. The classes were easy all you had to do was PAY ATTENTION.
Mrs. Baylor and the Latin class was fun, but not very productive. Having been an altar boy I already knew some, emphasis some, Latin and there is a difference between church Latin and Roman Latin, truly interesting.
Mrs. Nutter and I could just not see eye to eye and as a result I had to study harder
to know the other side of an argument whether or not it was English Lit or American History. But I always made a grade.
Mr. Greigo I enjoyed his class, Shop I, I only took one year of shop as I could see that it was not something I would get ingrained in. Good made a 'B'.
That pretty much covers the classes, teachers, my feelings concerning them so what is left is other people and events coming up.
BUT FIRST LET ME SHOW YOU SOMETHING
WHAT APPEARS TO BE AN ADDITION TO THE BUILDING ON THE EAST SIDE IS THE BAND ROOM. FROM THIS SMALL AREA CAME THE GREAT MARCH MUSIC POPULAR IN THE 40s AND 50s. I AM REFERRING TO THIS ERA AS I WAS A PART OF IT IN THE 40s. AT THAT TIME THE DIRECTOR WAS JACK GRACIE.
THE GYM DOOR HAS A STORY OF ITS OWN. I MUST FIRST DENY KNOWING ANYTHING AS TO THE VERACITY OF THE STORY. IT WAS THE DAYS OF PRANKS OF VARIOUS KINDS. AT THIS TIME MR. GRACIE, THE BAND DIRECTOR DROVE A SMALL ENGLISH CAR, I RECALL A MORRIS-MINOR. FOR SOME REASON HE HAD LEFT IT AT SCHOOL OVER NIGHT. A GROUP OF PRANKSTER SOME HOW GAINED ENTRANCE TO THE SCHOOL LATE AT NIGHT. USING TOOLS FROM THE SHOP THEY CAREFULLY REMOVED THE CENTER DOOR SUPPORT OF THE GYM DOOR LEADING TO THE OUTSIDE. WITH THE REMOVAL OF THAT SUPPORT THE HEALTHY PRANKSTER PROCEEDED TO PICK UP, PHYSICALLY PICK UP MIND YOU, MR. GRACIE'S MORRIS-MINOR AND
CARRY IT THRU THE WIDE OPEN DOUBLE DOORS, INSIDE THE GYM THEY AGAIN, WITH BRUTE FORCE PICKED UP THE CAR AND PLACED IT ON THE STAGE. THEN THEY REPAIRED AND CLOSED AND SECURED THE OUTSIDE DOORS. THE CONSTERNATION OF THE POWERS TO BE ON THE MORROW WERE NEEDLESS TO SAY, MIXED, SOME ANGER, SOME LAUGHTER, AND A LOT OF QUESTIONS.
IN DUE COURSE 'VOLUNTEERS' REMOVED THE AUTO.
THIS WAS SOCORRO HIGH SCHOOL IN THE 1930s 40s 50s. AT THE TIME OF BUILDING THE MOST DESIRED DESIGN WAS SOUTHWEST, AND AS YOU WELL KNOW IT IS BY FAR THE THE DESIRED DESIGN EVEN NOW. DON'T YOU JUST LOVE IT?
THE PATIO OF THE SCHOOL WAS OF COURSE AN ATTRACTION IN THE EVENT THAT THERE WOULD BE A BIT OF SNOW TO PASS GENTLY ALONG IN THE FORM OF A HARD PRESSED BALL. ONTO THE UNSUSPECTING BACK SIDE OF OTHERS IN PURSUIT OF REVENGE.
event I had to have someone (Bill) deliver. I would give the route up to a new kid in school (sorry can't remember his name) trouble is when the snow came it was obvious that he wasn't going to keep it. As a favor to Mr. Schubert I took it back and had it for several months. Mr. Lane an elderly fellow, had the route some time back, asked me to let him know if I was going to give it up, and that was all I needed. The Journal into the capable hands of Mr. Lane.
When one enters high school, if a parent does not accompany the student to school, the student generally picks the subjects he/she wants to take and registers for those and it's a done deal, right? Well yes, in most cases, however in mine it seems that Mrs. Moran (yes from grade school) and Mr. Cox (same place) had suggested that I was well suited for the harder subjects and should not take any of the so-called dumb-bell subjects (general math, first year English, general science, you can see where this is going). So I had to just throw away my schedule and accept what Mr. Coffey and Mr. Bell decided I should take. So much for democracy, but now, in retrospect, I am glad it went the way it did.
I was not the head of my class, nor was I the tail end. There were some subjects that I really liked and others that drove me nuts. Later when I took Physics I found how much I needed a better background in math sciences. But oh well.
As it turned out in later years I became a Systems Engineer, designing computer programs for computers to run other computers, as well as general accounting programs. I designed the city/county/school district/water district/electric billing
and account for municipal power utilities and also for REA's (Rural Electric Assoc.)
These systems required inclusion of an extensive FEDERAL POWER REPORT. A report
so detailed that it accounted for even a barn light on a farm.
All of the above were based on the new two bank account methods of accounting for income from governmental enterprises and revenue income. Prior to this system entities kept account of fund by having a bank account for each enterprise and each revenue account. In many cases my method resulted in an extra source of income, we bargained with the banks for better interest on savings. So all was not lost.
I will tell you another story, if you don't mind. Mrs. Moran followed me to high school from the grade school. My sole purpose in life was to avoid having her , ever, as a teacher. And of course, not having control over selections of classes I ended up with her. This subject was Latin American Affairs, should be by the title a class in political science or social studies, well never mind it, the text that is,
was tossed the first day as was a rule in Mr. Moran's classes. And we will operate and learn from other sources.
In the beginning of this there was a lot of doubt that this would fly. But fly is only the tip of what happened.. Mrs. Moran opened a vista of South America that was
well worth the effort to get to class. The bottom line to this is when years later I went to the movie "Chariot of the God's" and I read the book, and I also read "Worlds in Collision" by Immanuel Velikovski. I found an interesting thing, I knew of many of the items in "Worlds in Collision" and large amount of "Chariots" must have come from the same sources Mrs. Moran cited in that class.
I have in my fondest memories of teachers that were above the norm. Though I personally tried to avoid Mrs. Moran I do concede that I learned more from her as
regards English composition (this blog excluded please) and not withholding credits for Latin American Affairs.
Meeting new classmates was of particular interest to me, I supposed that this was what was meant by bonding. I call it getting along with as opposed to not getting along. For the most part I was on a par with most every one. I probably had a few enemies but not many and only that I can remember and God Bless him he is gone.
One of the important ideas of learning was 'the how too or how not too' and this primarily applied to one's attitude toward the distaff of the party. So much to learn and so little time to do it ALL.
As the forever ribbing of one kind or another, Lord forbid that you have a fever blister on the lip and a female class mate come forth with the same affliction.
Through these times we grew in physical being, and I must say that for the best of these the feminine growth was handled better than the male. Oh sure, we all made it and fortunately the only serious illness for any of us was Leo Funk. We very nearly lost him to a ruptured appendix. I am discounting the broken legs and such for this is normal for the most part.
There was another accident that hurt another class mate. Kenneth Edwards was in the back of a pickup standing up, other Boy Scouts were sitting down. The driver had stopped momentarily to let another Scout on, and then drove forward. In retrospect it is a good thing that the tail gate was down, else Kenny could have fallen backwards and landed on this head, as it was he walked (stumbled) backward and stepping off landing on his feet, but wanting to go the wrong direction. In the fall he hurt is left knee pretty bad. The worst tho was he hit his head pretty hard and ended up with a couple of stitches over his left eye. He was a tough guy and made it fine, Now, Anna Marie, his mom is another story that accident put her down for about a week. Anna Marie Edwards was not a real well person, Bless her heart.
In the beginning year of high school I was one of the chosen to take courses for which I didn't know I was prepared. From grade school came the recommendation that I take Algebra, American Literature, Shop, Band, and a couple of off the wall things I can't remember.
Starting with Mr. Coffey, my favorite teacher along with Mr. Gracie. Mr.Coffey was sort of expecting things from me and I think it was because of Mr. Cox, in grade school I had no trouble with math at all and Mr. Coffey expected the same in HS and
to a degree I was able to give it to him. In the Algebra class I was paired with Raymond "Butch" Vigil. It became absolutely clear that the two of us were going to show how it (defining 'it' was another pass) going to be. During the first half of the year "Butch" and I were fairly well ahead of the rest of the class. This is not braggadocios talking only fact. It is true math was not really that hard and beside that I must admit that the doing of homework was a snap. The reason for it being a snap was that there was a group meeting in a booth at Mrs. Petty's Confectionery and Malt Shoppe.
I especially liked the Malt Shoppe meeting for it afforded me the pleasure of sitting next to Carolyn Walters, whom I had a healthy feeling for. It would be over a year before the fulfillment of a date with Carolyn would come to fruition. Again I digress, it was in the booth at the Malt Shoppe that was born the dual
efforts in completing Algebra homework and being sure the answers were correct. And there was NO failure. For "Butch" and I there were in two more years more fish to fry.
Mr. Gracie was my other favorite but it was not for band but science. His Biology, Zoology, and Science classes were for me outstanding. I enjoyed and excelled in all of them. The field trip to the gorge just north of the runway was great field trip, spiders, horn toads. bugs of all sorts, and tarantulas. We had specimens for a long time. The classes were easy all you had to do was PAY ATTENTION.
Mrs. Baylor and the Latin class was fun, but not very productive. Having been an altar boy I already knew some, emphasis some, Latin and there is a difference between church Latin and Roman Latin, truly interesting.
Mrs. Nutter and I could just not see eye to eye and as a result I had to study harder
to know the other side of an argument whether or not it was English Lit or American History. But I always made a grade.
Mr. Greigo I enjoyed his class, Shop I, I only took one year of shop as I could see that it was not something I would get ingrained in. Good made a 'B'.
That pretty much covers the classes, teachers, my feelings concerning them so what is left is other people and events coming up.
BUT FIRST LET ME SHOW YOU SOMETHING
WHAT APPEARS TO BE AN ADDITION TO THE BUILDING ON THE EAST SIDE IS THE BAND ROOM. FROM THIS SMALL AREA CAME THE GREAT MARCH MUSIC POPULAR IN THE 40s AND 50s. I AM REFERRING TO THIS ERA AS I WAS A PART OF IT IN THE 40s. AT THAT TIME THE DIRECTOR WAS JACK GRACIE.
THE GYM DOOR HAS A STORY OF ITS OWN. I MUST FIRST DENY KNOWING ANYTHING AS TO THE VERACITY OF THE STORY. IT WAS THE DAYS OF PRANKS OF VARIOUS KINDS. AT THIS TIME MR. GRACIE, THE BAND DIRECTOR DROVE A SMALL ENGLISH CAR, I RECALL A MORRIS-MINOR. FOR SOME REASON HE HAD LEFT IT AT SCHOOL OVER NIGHT. A GROUP OF PRANKSTER SOME HOW GAINED ENTRANCE TO THE SCHOOL LATE AT NIGHT. USING TOOLS FROM THE SHOP THEY CAREFULLY REMOVED THE CENTER DOOR SUPPORT OF THE GYM DOOR LEADING TO THE OUTSIDE. WITH THE REMOVAL OF THAT SUPPORT THE HEALTHY PRANKSTER PROCEEDED TO PICK UP, PHYSICALLY PICK UP MIND YOU, MR. GRACIE'S MORRIS-MINOR AND
CARRY IT THRU THE WIDE OPEN DOUBLE DOORS, INSIDE THE GYM THEY AGAIN, WITH BRUTE FORCE PICKED UP THE CAR AND PLACED IT ON THE STAGE. THEN THEY REPAIRED AND CLOSED AND SECURED THE OUTSIDE DOORS. THE CONSTERNATION OF THE POWERS TO BE ON THE MORROW WERE NEEDLESS TO SAY, MIXED, SOME ANGER, SOME LAUGHTER, AND A LOT OF QUESTIONS.
IN DUE COURSE 'VOLUNTEERS' REMOVED THE AUTO.
THIS WAS SOCORRO HIGH SCHOOL IN THE 1930s 40s 50s. AT THE TIME OF BUILDING THE MOST DESIRED DESIGN WAS SOUTHWEST, AND AS YOU WELL KNOW IT IS BY FAR THE THE DESIRED DESIGN EVEN NOW. DON'T YOU JUST LOVE IT?
THE PATIO OF THE SCHOOL WAS OF COURSE AN ATTRACTION IN THE EVENT THAT THERE WOULD BE A BIT OF SNOW TO PASS GENTLY ALONG IN THE FORM OF A HARD PRESSED BALL. ONTO THE UNSUSPECTING BACK SIDE OF OTHERS IN PURSUIT OF REVENGE.
TODAYS THOUGHT and COUPLES VS COUPLETS
Today's Nothings Are Often Tomorrows Everything
I suppose by rights to all I should bare what is left of my multi colored remembrance's of that, that comes in the waning days of my pacing the crowded pathways of uncharted, unnumbered routes, through open doors leading to further wandering, wandering that seemed to always have the ending question "So you are here? Now what?"
To each that question may bring solace through a kindly answer, thought, act, or deed. I do believe that atonement comes in many cloths and tartans. I believe that nothing can change ones internal makeup until that one gives him/her self the desired will to allow a change, yet again I digress.
I am taking a few liberties with words today and as we progress through the following scenarios I believe you will agree with my informal definition of 'couplet' and its informal use. 'Couple' by design means two, duo, tie. While 'couplet' by new use is pair, verse, doublet.
There were only a few real 'couples' that is, those that were on the 'going steady' bent. The ones that come immediately to mind were Yvonne Fay and Tom Crispin, Dorothy Lopez and Tony Apodaca, Grace Harriet and Jack Bruton. As it turned out two of these couples would walk hand in hand through many years of being together. They, as I look back, were to be envied in that they walked in closer rhythm than would be imagined for that day and time.
While on the other paths of togetherness was the 'couplets'. Now, let me be very truthful about those relationships involving me, I cherished each and every one of them and to this day carry in my always awaking memories the wondrous feeling of having spent real, honest, quality time with each young lady.
My pals were one half of the 'couplet' and a variety of young ladies were the other half. I will tell you this, the parade was one surely to be ranked in the higher echelons of 'couplets'.
Gordon Stirling, you recall was the Baptist Ministers son. Red headed and on occasion hot headed also. He and I came to HS together from grade school. Gordon was a good student and good dancer , so inevitably a half a 'couplet'.
Neil Gray, yes that one. Good dancer, student, and all around good guy.
The three of us were the culprits of the infamous 'watermelon caper'. I can with truth in my heart totally deny knowing anything about Mr. Gracie's Morris Minor ending up on the stage in the gym, nor anything about concrete culverts in the ante area of the Mr. Bells office. Again I veer off trail.
Bill Caldwell, Butch Vigil, were a year ahead of me. Bill was ahead in other ways also. For one thing he had an Indian Motorcycle, the "black beauty" and thus he was lost to us younger guys. Butch tho seemed to enjoy being the 'big brother' to his younger group.
The couplet female side was wide (in numbers, not in stature) and diverse in many ways. I shall commit my recollections as best as I can. Should any of you feel that I have wronged you (or anyone for that matter) I do hope you forgive me.
Carolyn Walters, red headed, left handed, dance my legs off. Two years ahead of me. And I must confess that my feelings for her were well beyond what was presented in public. Carolyn and I were virtually inseparable the summer of my sophomore year, There were the tennis matches, swimming (at School of Mines and the other two swimming holes, also the making of fudge. This is something we did nearly every day. When prom came, it was Carolyn who would be my date. Carolyn going to the University of New Mexico to become a nurse and I was lost. Mrs. Walters ordered a corsage of orchids for Carolyn and a bud for me. I must admit that we were a striking "couplet".
The 'gang of gals' using the term loosely and not with malice I shall expound on the misguided thesis that these were the "elite" the "untouchable". It is true that this group pretty much enjoyed a certain amount of exclusivity. The order of luck in getting a date with any of these depended upon many variances and thereby limited the possibility of success. Through the years I was on the outer ring of this circus, the only "couplet" involving myself was I had several dates with Gwendolyn Ivy, so with little or no luck with the others I'd just go on to seek solace so to speak and say good-bye to Esther Zimmerly, Burdie Caldwell, Billy Jean Reese, and one or two more I can't recall.
One of the sweethearts (in our dreams possibly) was a dark haired beauty that lived out of town. Therefore riding the bus precluded the amount of time that was allowed those that would attempt to court this one. Those of us that had means of transport would try to spend time with her at any point possible, that her home (by transport) at her cousins (by bike or foot) this one full of energy, fear of anything was not a part of her make up and this in itself created a sort of mystique that I am sure follows Noeline Mounyo. I was fortunate to have spent some great summer evenings at her home, but not in a reference of 'couplet'.
My walking companion from the seventh grade through the ninth was so petite that I often thought that a swift wind would carry her off. Tho we walked hand in hand to and from school there was something that seemed to stand in the way of real closeness. But let it be known forever my respect and fondness for Oleta Fowler will endure til the last sunset.
Oleta had a counterpart, not only in stature but in temperament. They were until Oleta moved best of friends. The two girls were fun to be around and Clydean Collins was sure to urge you as a friend to do good.
It was the first day of school, my sophomore year, group of students gathered at the entrance on the Northwest corner, allowing for a clear view of the new student approaching from the South.
She was cradling the evidence of a new student, ring binder, paper, ruler, and a strange item for school, a purse. She was wearing a full skirt with goodness only knows how many petticoats. Her white blouse with collar overlapping a light sweater accentuated the beautiful perfect face of Cecilia Rowe. Cecilia would at times join me as 'couplet' and I shall also remember the quiet times we sat on the back porch in the early hours of the morning.
Mr. and Mrs. Zwicky (sec) , Cecilia's mother and stepfather, were exceeding good to all of the kids who spent so much time at the Zwicky home. They allowed for the load music, the constant baking of double dutch brownies. The parties for Cecilia and Christmas were special. The home had been the Keith home , located across the street from Mr. Mrs. Coffey, and Ruby Lee's brother-in-law, and kitty cornered from Ruby Griffith, these "older youngsters" played roles of sorts in the lives of most of us.
Another part time visitor to Socorro was Billie Joan West. Her father Bill West was one of those "don't know " what he does, anyway they were here. The family was quartered at the Val Verde at the time, however Billie Jo stayed with Cecilia Rowe. I had known Billie Jo from some other time and we were good together. She wanted to stay in Socorro to go to school but that wasn't to happen. I say too bad.
At this time I was working at the Texaco Station next to Reynolds Cafe. I got off at midnight and would head for home, but not before having breakfast at the cafe. Then the walk home, whistling as I went by way of the North Star with anticipation that Cecilia would awaken and hear me whistle. She would and I would go around to the back door entrance and join her on the swing. The hours seemed to shoot by in shortened moments, as the discussion of the important items crossed hope, desire and fantasy of youth. I remember to well.
It never seemed to amaze me how I was so fortunate to have the lovely companions I had for the school events. I had asked the blond, by whisper, to accompany me to the coming dance, and was pleased that she consented. So that night we were to have our first 'couplet' and dance. I was to pick her up at the right time to get us to the dance by 7:45. In order to do this I had made promises to my Mom that I would take care with my driving. The reason for the promise was where my date lived, about 15 miles out of town on a small farm. I was not exactly truthful in telling Mom that I didn't have to take her home as this allowed me more time at least in theory. And so after the dance Ruby Lee Hawk and I had deluxe hamburgers, cokes, talk and the time for us.
I had the dubious job of selling shoes, that is if you believe that I actually did sales or rather that Mr Goad would let me help on the sure sales. In any event I was the one that fitted this lovely tall sandy haired girl. She was new in town though I had seen her on her first day at school. So what else could I do, she had to feel alone what with new town, school and all, so I asked to take her to the movies and that was the beginning of a great friendship that also led to considerable 'couplets' just Vesta Jean Hudgeons and yours truly.
There was a fire at the ice house and of course the whole neighborhood turned out to see the outcome of whether the ice house would burn up or be saved by our grossly inexperienced fire department. I had called on this young lady who lived across the street from the ice house. So when the fire engine went by the young lady and her older brother and I crossed the street to gather a better view.
I had seen some pictures on fire fighting and observed that the local fire department was using the Naval Spray method to cause the fire to burn up the oxygen under the spray and thus reduce the burning. I only mentioned this in passing but for some reason Mac Douglas was as impressed as was his sister, Enid. The adage about the iceman 'cometh' was lost as the ice house was saved.
Enid Douglas, several years behind me, was by far, of all the girls I have ever known, one of the brightest, cutest, sweetest and caring people I have ever encountered and believe me I have been around the horn. Enid would call on my Nanna after I went in the navy, she was most kind in many ways I shan't go into at this time. To say that Enid holds a special place is just the tip of the thought.
I think I mentioned the band trip to El Paso, well it was a 'couplet' time of Enid and I, Our time together was memorable beyond expectation and beyond the cold wind and snow that befell us during the parade. After the parade we (along with other 'couplets') went about seeing whatever we could get to. The leaving time was extended to give everyone more time to see what there was (some went across the border), as a result getting back to Socorro would carry us in to the dark evening. The trip further afforded a growing closeness between us. One that I shall treasure forever.
I hope that I have not offended any one nor offered any false impressions of morality, for trust me the moral ethics were always above reproach as far as I know.
Coming up, more about school, pals, gals, candy, music and the sadness of leaving.
I suppose by rights to all I should bare what is left of my multi colored remembrance's of that, that comes in the waning days of my pacing the crowded pathways of uncharted, unnumbered routes, through open doors leading to further wandering, wandering that seemed to always have the ending question "So you are here? Now what?"
To each that question may bring solace through a kindly answer, thought, act, or deed. I do believe that atonement comes in many cloths and tartans. I believe that nothing can change ones internal makeup until that one gives him/her self the desired will to allow a change, yet again I digress.
I am taking a few liberties with words today and as we progress through the following scenarios I believe you will agree with my informal definition of 'couplet' and its informal use. 'Couple' by design means two, duo, tie. While 'couplet' by new use is pair, verse, doublet.
There were only a few real 'couples' that is, those that were on the 'going steady' bent. The ones that come immediately to mind were Yvonne Fay and Tom Crispin, Dorothy Lopez and Tony Apodaca, Grace Harriet and Jack Bruton. As it turned out two of these couples would walk hand in hand through many years of being together. They, as I look back, were to be envied in that they walked in closer rhythm than would be imagined for that day and time.
While on the other paths of togetherness was the 'couplets'. Now, let me be very truthful about those relationships involving me, I cherished each and every one of them and to this day carry in my always awaking memories the wondrous feeling of having spent real, honest, quality time with each young lady.
My pals were one half of the 'couplet' and a variety of young ladies were the other half. I will tell you this, the parade was one surely to be ranked in the higher echelons of 'couplets'.
Gordon Stirling, you recall was the Baptist Ministers son. Red headed and on occasion hot headed also. He and I came to HS together from grade school. Gordon was a good student and good dancer , so inevitably a half a 'couplet'.
Neil Gray, yes that one. Good dancer, student, and all around good guy.
The three of us were the culprits of the infamous 'watermelon caper'. I can with truth in my heart totally deny knowing anything about Mr. Gracie's Morris Minor ending up on the stage in the gym, nor anything about concrete culverts in the ante area of the Mr. Bells office. Again I veer off trail.
Bill Caldwell, Butch Vigil, were a year ahead of me. Bill was ahead in other ways also. For one thing he had an Indian Motorcycle, the "black beauty" and thus he was lost to us younger guys. Butch tho seemed to enjoy being the 'big brother' to his younger group.
The couplet female side was wide (in numbers, not in stature) and diverse in many ways. I shall commit my recollections as best as I can. Should any of you feel that I have wronged you (or anyone for that matter) I do hope you forgive me.
Carolyn Walters, red headed, left handed, dance my legs off. Two years ahead of me. And I must confess that my feelings for her were well beyond what was presented in public. Carolyn and I were virtually inseparable the summer of my sophomore year, There were the tennis matches, swimming (at School of Mines and the other two swimming holes, also the making of fudge. This is something we did nearly every day. When prom came, it was Carolyn who would be my date. Carolyn going to the University of New Mexico to become a nurse and I was lost. Mrs. Walters ordered a corsage of orchids for Carolyn and a bud for me. I must admit that we were a striking "couplet".
The 'gang of gals' using the term loosely and not with malice I shall expound on the misguided thesis that these were the "elite" the "untouchable". It is true that this group pretty much enjoyed a certain amount of exclusivity. The order of luck in getting a date with any of these depended upon many variances and thereby limited the possibility of success. Through the years I was on the outer ring of this circus, the only "couplet" involving myself was I had several dates with Gwendolyn Ivy, so with little or no luck with the others I'd just go on to seek solace so to speak and say good-bye to Esther Zimmerly, Burdie Caldwell, Billy Jean Reese, and one or two more I can't recall.
One of the sweethearts (in our dreams possibly) was a dark haired beauty that lived out of town. Therefore riding the bus precluded the amount of time that was allowed those that would attempt to court this one. Those of us that had means of transport would try to spend time with her at any point possible, that her home (by transport) at her cousins (by bike or foot) this one full of energy, fear of anything was not a part of her make up and this in itself created a sort of mystique that I am sure follows Noeline Mounyo. I was fortunate to have spent some great summer evenings at her home, but not in a reference of 'couplet'.
My walking companion from the seventh grade through the ninth was so petite that I often thought that a swift wind would carry her off. Tho we walked hand in hand to and from school there was something that seemed to stand in the way of real closeness. But let it be known forever my respect and fondness for Oleta Fowler will endure til the last sunset.
Oleta had a counterpart, not only in stature but in temperament. They were until Oleta moved best of friends. The two girls were fun to be around and Clydean Collins was sure to urge you as a friend to do good.
It was the first day of school, my sophomore year, group of students gathered at the entrance on the Northwest corner, allowing for a clear view of the new student approaching from the South.
She was cradling the evidence of a new student, ring binder, paper, ruler, and a strange item for school, a purse. She was wearing a full skirt with goodness only knows how many petticoats. Her white blouse with collar overlapping a light sweater accentuated the beautiful perfect face of Cecilia Rowe. Cecilia would at times join me as 'couplet' and I shall also remember the quiet times we sat on the back porch in the early hours of the morning.
Mr. and Mrs. Zwicky (sec) , Cecilia's mother and stepfather, were exceeding good to all of the kids who spent so much time at the Zwicky home. They allowed for the load music, the constant baking of double dutch brownies. The parties for Cecilia and Christmas were special. The home had been the Keith home , located across the street from Mr. Mrs. Coffey, and Ruby Lee's brother-in-law, and kitty cornered from Ruby Griffith, these "older youngsters" played roles of sorts in the lives of most of us.
Another part time visitor to Socorro was Billie Joan West. Her father Bill West was one of those "don't know " what he does, anyway they were here. The family was quartered at the Val Verde at the time, however Billie Jo stayed with Cecilia Rowe. I had known Billie Jo from some other time and we were good together. She wanted to stay in Socorro to go to school but that wasn't to happen. I say too bad.
At this time I was working at the Texaco Station next to Reynolds Cafe. I got off at midnight and would head for home, but not before having breakfast at the cafe. Then the walk home, whistling as I went by way of the North Star with anticipation that Cecilia would awaken and hear me whistle. She would and I would go around to the back door entrance and join her on the swing. The hours seemed to shoot by in shortened moments, as the discussion of the important items crossed hope, desire and fantasy of youth. I remember to well.
It never seemed to amaze me how I was so fortunate to have the lovely companions I had for the school events. I had asked the blond, by whisper, to accompany me to the coming dance, and was pleased that she consented. So that night we were to have our first 'couplet' and dance. I was to pick her up at the right time to get us to the dance by 7:45. In order to do this I had made promises to my Mom that I would take care with my driving. The reason for the promise was where my date lived, about 15 miles out of town on a small farm. I was not exactly truthful in telling Mom that I didn't have to take her home as this allowed me more time at least in theory. And so after the dance Ruby Lee Hawk and I had deluxe hamburgers, cokes, talk and the time for us.
I had the dubious job of selling shoes, that is if you believe that I actually did sales or rather that Mr Goad would let me help on the sure sales. In any event I was the one that fitted this lovely tall sandy haired girl. She was new in town though I had seen her on her first day at school. So what else could I do, she had to feel alone what with new town, school and all, so I asked to take her to the movies and that was the beginning of a great friendship that also led to considerable 'couplets' just Vesta Jean Hudgeons and yours truly.
There was a fire at the ice house and of course the whole neighborhood turned out to see the outcome of whether the ice house would burn up or be saved by our grossly inexperienced fire department. I had called on this young lady who lived across the street from the ice house. So when the fire engine went by the young lady and her older brother and I crossed the street to gather a better view.
I had seen some pictures on fire fighting and observed that the local fire department was using the Naval Spray method to cause the fire to burn up the oxygen under the spray and thus reduce the burning. I only mentioned this in passing but for some reason Mac Douglas was as impressed as was his sister, Enid. The adage about the iceman 'cometh' was lost as the ice house was saved.
Enid Douglas, several years behind me, was by far, of all the girls I have ever known, one of the brightest, cutest, sweetest and caring people I have ever encountered and believe me I have been around the horn. Enid would call on my Nanna after I went in the navy, she was most kind in many ways I shan't go into at this time. To say that Enid holds a special place is just the tip of the thought.
I think I mentioned the band trip to El Paso, well it was a 'couplet' time of Enid and I, Our time together was memorable beyond expectation and beyond the cold wind and snow that befell us during the parade. After the parade we (along with other 'couplets') went about seeing whatever we could get to. The leaving time was extended to give everyone more time to see what there was (some went across the border), as a result getting back to Socorro would carry us in to the dark evening. The trip further afforded a growing closeness between us. One that I shall treasure forever.
I hope that I have not offended any one nor offered any false impressions of morality, for trust me the moral ethics were always above reproach as far as I know.
Coming up, more about school, pals, gals, candy, music and the sadness of leaving.
A LOT OF THIS BLOG BELONGS TO A L I C E
Alice of the HARRIET HOUSE, who so willingly and kindly helped me to work on this sort of mini life of mine. Alice provided so much help and encouragement to this project that I have found a new something in my life a something I feel I must pursue and that is WORDS. For without the push I received from Alice (not with holding encouragement from Bill) I probably would not have finished this.
So it is with great pleasure I present to your view the beautiful and gracious
ALICE HARRIET CALDWELL DUQUET
+(1).JPG)
So it is with great pleasure I present to your view the beautiful and gracious
ALICE HARRIET CALDWELL DUQUET
+(1).JPG)
SPECIAL THOUGHTS AND THANKS FOR....
In the depths of my many muddled memories there emerges those bright colorful sprites of blooms telling me that tho events have past the reality lives on, if no where but in my muddled memory. So to those I offer....
I have been most fortunate in having beautiful and thoughtful friends. Each has contributed in some way to the sanity of my life, to its sometime sorrow. But for all of it to the memories that walk the paths to that uncertain finality with me.
I had only a passing meeting with death and truly had no significant feeling one way or another. That is until the summer of my seventh grade. As I have told the bit of me leaving the Convent for public school. Well remember in leaving we must either fully embrace our going with finality leave ills behind, and with little thought proceed down the road. Well I could not fully do this, I had a friend I grew up with. As small boys he and I would crawl upon his mothers lap and be read to, and more often than not sleep the sleep of security. He was to graduate to high school, and even with his Jewish background he had stayed at the Convent completing all eight years there. Graduation day found him in deep pain. Stomach cramps, fever, throwing up and a gambit of other problems. He refused to give in and did go to the graduation, where he immediately collapsed . Rushed to Sun Valley hospital where Dr. Lehmann determined that his appendix had burst and that he needed to be operated on as quickly as possible. After locating the two principles that would contribute greatly to his recovery, and the operation took place. (Col. Drummond was the blood supply that was sorely needed for my pal) It was the first few days of this episode that was my close brush with finding out about death. For the next six weeks Dr. Franklin and Col. Drummand were pretty much fixtures at the hospital until the last day when someone thought to bring cup cakes for all. My friend would join the NM National Guard and attain some rank. This was prior to the Korean War. And though he wanted to go into the regular Army, it was not to be. I of course lost touch as I moved away, but we were close friends through the long days of high school, though Leo Funk was not a part of the rowdy group he was a good "guy", always with me in spirit. Leo passed away quietly about 1978 .
The huge front room with a curved front wall and glass brick windows became close to a second home to many of us. We were able to listen to the best music on vinyl records (remember those), and an added bonus we were allowed to call KGGM in Albuquerque on Friday or Saturday evenings. Calling in to the Request Line at the radio station was a ritual we all cherished. At the time Nat 'King' Cole (Night Lights, LOVE, Serenade), Buddy Clark and Doris Day (Linda, Cecilia, Peg'O' My Heart), Vaughn Monroe (Ballerina) , Artie Shaw (Begin the Beguine) and this is just a start. It is our contention that all good music originated in our time.But what good is music if you can't enjoy it, harmonize with, dance to, etc. Well that was not a problem in the big house. But as with any type of exercise (dance an exercise?) there must be nourishment as well, and that also was attended to. The Double Dutch Brownies and Fudge were elixir of the Gods. There was always enough to satisfy the hungry gang that would show up for a feeding and listing to good music. And as often happened the 'gang' would trek out a couple of blocks to the cemetery where songs would ring out in mournful make believe tributes to the dear departed, and truly no disrespect was ever intended. The parting time at Cecilia's would often be dependent on the amount of leftovers. (I offer to you the Fail Safe Recipe for Fudge used in the very kitchens of my youth, (my home, Cecilia's, Carolyn Walters, Mrs. Fitch), and on into many others.
I am not to sure about the timing of this next exploration of events so I will just do as the Brit's say "Give it a go, ole chop'. Never understood the 'chop' part, I digress.
Wayne Black had been discharged from the Navy, he had enlisted when he was 16 so the minute the war was over he was eligible to get out. I believe it was about 1947, as I remember, Wayne had a job at the Texaco Station and also drove a truck when needed ( The Hefner Brothers had Wayne haul logs on the weekends) and he had just bought a new Ford 2 door coupe (dark blue). He came to see me on Christmas morning after Mass. And we ended up going to Albuquerque. There was Guy McDonald, Wayne, and I out for a Christmas drive. It was the thing that Wayne felt he must do, that was to give me a break of sorts as I had been taking care of Nanna by myself and he thought a day away would be nice. So off we went and ended up having a great dinner in Albuquerque Old Town.
Wayne being and looking a little older than the rest of us lead to an indulgence that would not have been possible otherwise. That indulgence, the brew of the upper crust, Bud the beer far ahead of Coor's. The capability of obtaining beer put a different complexion on things. Tho we never had the stuff around any of the girls it was available when the steak or fish hit the coals. As time passed and I began to have a pretty good business of taking care of a couple of farm areas (water master on a couple of pea farms) I began to indulge a bit on my own and take a beer or two with me to work. I finished that summer overseeing the block plant (located cross from the Baptist Church). It came to me to provide afternoon beer for the two operators that actually did all of the work at the plant. I can't recall the name of the man that owned the plant ( I want to say Davis but not sure) and the two men were ex-cons and couldn't go in a bar. So I would go to the Bucket Of Blood (Damian Padilla's) and fetch 3 tins of beer. The tins were not quite a gallon and were stainless steel milk pails with lids. Ideal for the 2 block hike. And so the factory produced excellent bricks, the three of us had beer every day and payday was Friday.
I have been most fortunate in having beautiful and thoughtful friends. Each has contributed in some way to the sanity of my life, to its sometime sorrow. But for all of it to the memories that walk the paths to that uncertain finality with me.
I had only a passing meeting with death and truly had no significant feeling one way or another. That is until the summer of my seventh grade. As I have told the bit of me leaving the Convent for public school. Well remember in leaving we must either fully embrace our going with finality leave ills behind, and with little thought proceed down the road. Well I could not fully do this, I had a friend I grew up with. As small boys he and I would crawl upon his mothers lap and be read to, and more often than not sleep the sleep of security. He was to graduate to high school, and even with his Jewish background he had stayed at the Convent completing all eight years there. Graduation day found him in deep pain. Stomach cramps, fever, throwing up and a gambit of other problems. He refused to give in and did go to the graduation, where he immediately collapsed . Rushed to Sun Valley hospital where Dr. Lehmann determined that his appendix had burst and that he needed to be operated on as quickly as possible. After locating the two principles that would contribute greatly to his recovery, and the operation took place. (Col. Drummond was the blood supply that was sorely needed for my pal) It was the first few days of this episode that was my close brush with finding out about death. For the next six weeks Dr. Franklin and Col. Drummand were pretty much fixtures at the hospital until the last day when someone thought to bring cup cakes for all. My friend would join the NM National Guard and attain some rank. This was prior to the Korean War. And though he wanted to go into the regular Army, it was not to be. I of course lost touch as I moved away, but we were close friends through the long days of high school, though Leo Funk was not a part of the rowdy group he was a good "guy", always with me in spirit. Leo passed away quietly about 1978 .
The huge front room with a curved front wall and glass brick windows became close to a second home to many of us. We were able to listen to the best music on vinyl records (remember those), and an added bonus we were allowed to call KGGM in Albuquerque on Friday or Saturday evenings. Calling in to the Request Line at the radio station was a ritual we all cherished. At the time Nat 'King' Cole (Night Lights, LOVE, Serenade), Buddy Clark and Doris Day (Linda, Cecilia, Peg'O' My Heart), Vaughn Monroe (Ballerina) , Artie Shaw (Begin the Beguine) and this is just a start. It is our contention that all good music originated in our time.But what good is music if you can't enjoy it, harmonize with, dance to, etc. Well that was not a problem in the big house. But as with any type of exercise (dance an exercise?) there must be nourishment as well, and that also was attended to. The Double Dutch Brownies and Fudge were elixir of the Gods. There was always enough to satisfy the hungry gang that would show up for a feeding and listing to good music. And as often happened the 'gang' would trek out a couple of blocks to the cemetery where songs would ring out in mournful make believe tributes to the dear departed, and truly no disrespect was ever intended. The parting time at Cecilia's would often be dependent on the amount of leftovers. (I offer to you the Fail Safe Recipe for Fudge used in the very kitchens of my youth, (my home, Cecilia's, Carolyn Walters, Mrs. Fitch), and on into many others.
I am not to sure about the timing of this next exploration of events so I will just do as the Brit's say "Give it a go, ole chop'. Never understood the 'chop' part, I digress.
Wayne Black had been discharged from the Navy, he had enlisted when he was 16 so the minute the war was over he was eligible to get out. I believe it was about 1947, as I remember, Wayne had a job at the Texaco Station and also drove a truck when needed ( The Hefner Brothers had Wayne haul logs on the weekends) and he had just bought a new Ford 2 door coupe (dark blue). He came to see me on Christmas morning after Mass. And we ended up going to Albuquerque. There was Guy McDonald, Wayne, and I out for a Christmas drive. It was the thing that Wayne felt he must do, that was to give me a break of sorts as I had been taking care of Nanna by myself and he thought a day away would be nice. So off we went and ended up having a great dinner in Albuquerque Old Town.
Wayne being and looking a little older than the rest of us lead to an indulgence that would not have been possible otherwise. That indulgence, the brew of the upper crust, Bud the beer far ahead of Coor's. The capability of obtaining beer put a different complexion on things. Tho we never had the stuff around any of the girls it was available when the steak or fish hit the coals. As time passed and I began to have a pretty good business of taking care of a couple of farm areas (water master on a couple of pea farms) I began to indulge a bit on my own and take a beer or two with me to work. I finished that summer overseeing the block plant (located cross from the Baptist Church). It came to me to provide afternoon beer for the two operators that actually did all of the work at the plant. I can't recall the name of the man that owned the plant ( I want to say Davis but not sure) and the two men were ex-cons and couldn't go in a bar. So I would go to the Bucket Of Blood (Damian Padilla's) and fetch 3 tins of beer. The tins were not quite a gallon and were stainless steel milk pails with lids. Ideal for the 2 block hike. And so the factory produced excellent bricks, the three of us had beer every day and payday was Friday.
WHERE WAS I, OH YES NOW I REMEMBER
The cement plant location, as I said was with in ear shot of the Baptist Church. It also was just a block or so away from where a very precocious brunette lived. She would in a year or so become a majorette and trust me she had what it took to do this. She was very agile, talented and beautiful. We had a fleeting run a couple of times, I think that age may have played a part as well as I think her step-father was possibly overly protective. She, Mary Lou Clark (Crawford) married a boy that had been in my Cub Scout Troop, Arles Howell. I was sorry to hear from her sister Betty Jane that Mary Lou had passed on. She was quite a girl.
The local theater was owned by Joe Wills. Now Joe was a good guy and I for one liked him a lot. I must admit that I had several reason for liking Joe, I got along with his brother-in-law Buddy Green, even though I thought Buddy to be lazy, which really worked in my favor. Joe would call me when his regular checker wasn't available, so I would get paid dollars and tickets to the movies.
So what you say? Well it lead to another plot by the perpetrator's of the watermelon caper. Only this time is was directed exactly at the law. It was not the intention to harm any one or their property. It was more a misguided insurrection against what was mostly a misunderstanding between the three culprits and the town marshal, Polo Pinada (sec). He had stopped each of us during a long weekend and falsely, falsely mind you, accused us of driving infractions. We of course felt that if guilt was there so was a ticket, which was not forthcoming. So what became a token of extreme (extreme for those days) revenge resulted in a bit of laughter for many and frustration for Polo.
We drove around the plaza several times, we would pull in and park and then quickly leave, only to repeat the act again. We did this until the beginning of the next show. Parking the car and loudly laughing walked across the street to enter the movie. Polo had watched us from the seat of his new police car. We entered the theater, courtesy mind you , of Joe Wells. I also retrieved a package I had left there earlier. During the show one of us would check to see if Polo was still parked at the plaza. Near the end of show two of us left by way of the emergency taking my package with us. After completing the maneuver intended we returned to the show the same way we left.
Three loud boys getting in the car and starting the engine and revving it up a bit was a way to get Polo's attention. We could see him settle into a starting position, we revved the engine again. Backing out quickly and then pulling forward rapidly, we rounded two corners of the plaza placing us nearly opposite of Polo, but with an obstructed view due to shrubbery. We hear the engine try to start, and again the starter engaging the flywheel, a loud bang, smoke from the exhaust pipe, and another softer bang. Polo came out of the car like a shot out of a gun , Polo was angry. Not really sure if the smoke was from the exhaust pipe or from of Polo's proficiencies language.
I did not know exactly what a potato up an exhaust pipe would do, but what it was is as follows.
Shoving the potato up the pipe caused enough back pressure to keep the engine from starting, and at the same time as Polo continued to try starting, the pressure increased until expulsion (of the potato) and the combustion of volatile fuel occurred virtually simultaneously, the potato left the tail pipe with a bang, smoke from exhaust arose in a cloud, and a soft bang as the potato splattered on the wall by Edward"s Finer Foods.
The recriminations for this act were to be meted out at some time in the future, that is after Polo took his relative new car to the dealership to determine if in fact there was a blown head gasket. I don't recall having any further association with that particular act and or punishment there of. I am sure that there must have been something just can't recall, honestly can't.
The local theater was owned by Joe Wills. Now Joe was a good guy and I for one liked him a lot. I must admit that I had several reason for liking Joe, I got along with his brother-in-law Buddy Green, even though I thought Buddy to be lazy, which really worked in my favor. Joe would call me when his regular checker wasn't available, so I would get paid dollars and tickets to the movies.
So what you say? Well it lead to another plot by the perpetrator's of the watermelon caper. Only this time is was directed exactly at the law. It was not the intention to harm any one or their property. It was more a misguided insurrection against what was mostly a misunderstanding between the three culprits and the town marshal, Polo Pinada (sec). He had stopped each of us during a long weekend and falsely, falsely mind you, accused us of driving infractions. We of course felt that if guilt was there so was a ticket, which was not forthcoming. So what became a token of extreme (extreme for those days) revenge resulted in a bit of laughter for many and frustration for Polo.
We drove around the plaza several times, we would pull in and park and then quickly leave, only to repeat the act again. We did this until the beginning of the next show. Parking the car and loudly laughing walked across the street to enter the movie. Polo had watched us from the seat of his new police car. We entered the theater, courtesy mind you , of Joe Wells. I also retrieved a package I had left there earlier. During the show one of us would check to see if Polo was still parked at the plaza. Near the end of show two of us left by way of the emergency taking my package with us. After completing the maneuver intended we returned to the show the same way we left.
Three loud boys getting in the car and starting the engine and revving it up a bit was a way to get Polo's attention. We could see him settle into a starting position, we revved the engine again. Backing out quickly and then pulling forward rapidly, we rounded two corners of the plaza placing us nearly opposite of Polo, but with an obstructed view due to shrubbery. We hear the engine try to start, and again the starter engaging the flywheel, a loud bang, smoke from the exhaust pipe, and another softer bang. Polo came out of the car like a shot out of a gun , Polo was angry. Not really sure if the smoke was from the exhaust pipe or from of Polo's proficiencies language.
I did not know exactly what a potato up an exhaust pipe would do, but what it was is as follows.
Shoving the potato up the pipe caused enough back pressure to keep the engine from starting, and at the same time as Polo continued to try starting, the pressure increased until expulsion (of the potato) and the combustion of volatile fuel occurred virtually simultaneously, the potato left the tail pipe with a bang, smoke from exhaust arose in a cloud, and a soft bang as the potato splattered on the wall by Edward"s Finer Foods.
The recriminations for this act were to be meted out at some time in the future, that is after Polo took his relative new car to the dealership to determine if in fact there was a blown head gasket. I don't recall having any further association with that particular act and or punishment there of. I am sure that there must have been something just can't recall, honestly can't.
MIDCOURSE CORRECTIONS AND THOUGHTS
I am beginning to understand the value of what Mrs. Moran and Mrs. Nutter tried to instill in our writing assignments, outline it dummy. Oh well some things just get ignored. And sometimes we get a chance to change things and in this case I'll just rearrange the placement of memory but not the time(s).
When there was time I would hike over to a friends and we would sit on the front porch and discuss the possibilities of the future. This would be an encouragement I sorely desired and from these discussions would build my mental library of things for recall and those for dismissal.
It is amazing how many of these came to fruition in later years.
The making of fudge was a two person job, at least it was here. One would mix every thing and start the cooking, then the other would take over 'til testing time the reversal again for the adding of nuts, butter, vanilla (or whiskey) to start the cooling of the fudge. There would be a bit of sight test to determine if the beating should begin. (Tell by the way the gloss faded). The beating would of course be brisk, if I were to be the second to beat I would kid my friend that I had extra work to do for I had to make up for the left handed strokes already rendered. This generally got me a swift kick.
When transport was available and I had a day off we would venture to a swimming hole, which in fact was just that, a fresh water swimming hole. The tales of all kinds of creatures in the pool did not deter its use as a favorite swimming spot. There were several trees skirting the edge and grassy shaded area on the south side. The shaded area provided for a place to lay beach towels. Tanning in those days was like a badge of honor and the deeper the tan the better. And there was also the obvious closeness of parties. And we were no exception, but rest assured not out of line.
This friend would also teach me some of the finer artful moves of dancing, the hard and quick returns of a tennis ball, the understanding of knowing and relying on a 'real friend'.
I would lose track eventually, however upon returning from the Navy I again would see my true friend and for a short time (twice) renewed a lifetime of knowing, yes knowing.
When there was time I would hike over to a friends and we would sit on the front porch and discuss the possibilities of the future. This would be an encouragement I sorely desired and from these discussions would build my mental library of things for recall and those for dismissal.
It is amazing how many of these came to fruition in later years.
The making of fudge was a two person job, at least it was here. One would mix every thing and start the cooking, then the other would take over 'til testing time the reversal again for the adding of nuts, butter, vanilla (or whiskey) to start the cooling of the fudge. There would be a bit of sight test to determine if the beating should begin. (Tell by the way the gloss faded). The beating would of course be brisk, if I were to be the second to beat I would kid my friend that I had extra work to do for I had to make up for the left handed strokes already rendered. This generally got me a swift kick.
When transport was available and I had a day off we would venture to a swimming hole, which in fact was just that, a fresh water swimming hole. The tales of all kinds of creatures in the pool did not deter its use as a favorite swimming spot. There were several trees skirting the edge and grassy shaded area on the south side. The shaded area provided for a place to lay beach towels. Tanning in those days was like a badge of honor and the deeper the tan the better. And there was also the obvious closeness of parties. And we were no exception, but rest assured not out of line.
This friend would also teach me some of the finer artful moves of dancing, the hard and quick returns of a tennis ball, the understanding of knowing and relying on a 'real friend'.
I would lose track eventually, however upon returning from the Navy I again would see my true friend and for a short time (twice) renewed a lifetime of knowing, yes knowing.
REMINDERS, REMAINDERS, RESUMPTIONS, RECOLLECTIONS ****BC01****
Since the time to close all of this out it occurs to me that certain contributions from some friends might do well to be placed here and so with lots of thanks to Bill, Alice, I will post their thoughts and words as conveyed to me.
Bill Caldwell has been so very supportive of my quest to put words of the past. He has kindly helped me contact lost (misplaced personages to whom I owe so much) friends and has reminded me of events I either saw or heard of. So here they are!
Date on this June 4 2007
Hi Dave.
Just a note to point out some omissions, and corrections in your school blog, as I remember.
Part 1 paragraph 5, We came here in 1937. (I was not sure when the Caldwells came to Socorro)
George Cook was driving a new 1937 Chev Coupe.
The Cooks had a little black and white spotted terrier of some sort named Pepper. George would come out his front gate around 6:30 to get his newspaper out of his mail box, and Pepper would invariably escape between George's legs, and run off down the street, with George yelling, and cursing him, and running after him with only his robe on, needless to say the whole neighborhood was awake and either laughing, or complaining by this time, and then a short time later after retrieving Pepper, and having breakfast, and reading his paper it was time for work, and Mr. Cook would start his car, and let it warm up at what seemed to be nearly full throttle, we always wondered how the engine stayed together with that treatment, but it did.
The Mundy family, Mr. W. E. Mundy, and daughter Milecha, (not Marcella), and younger sister Barbra, and Mrs Mundy lived next door to the north.
I remember vividly when Milecha got sick with German Measles, and died with a very high fever, this was a very sad time for the Mundys, and also for Me and my sister Burdie, as we were playmates , and knew them quite well.
Mr. Mundy had the Drug Store on the plaza, at that time, and sold medical supplies, also had an ice cream fountain. He later sold out to Percy Hicks, Hicks kept the same location.
The Caldwells came to Socorro from a small ranch near Golden , NM, and Madrid, NM,
and re-entered the car Biz in Socorro, as I previously stated.
The Dancing lessons began in Socorro about 1938 or 39. The teacher lived in Albuquerque and drove down about twice a month for classes. The name was Patsy Quinn School of dance. She was accompanied by her mother who played the piano for the routines. I can still close mine eyes, and hear the old lady playing humoresque, for the tap dance practice routine. I remember taking a lot of heat from some of the older boys about the dancing lesson being sissy stuff, etc. but I had no choice but to continue with the lessons and in later years I realized what a gift this had been.
Names of some of the student as I remember them as follows,
Myself, Bill Caldwell
Sister, Burdette Caldwell
Patsy Pickens
Patty Harley
Morris Eiland
Edward Eiland
Marge Frazer
Gene Frazer
Delmar White
Margie White
Bainard Gray B Butter
Marilyn Stapelton
I'm sure there must have been other, but no more come to min now. Cheers Bill
Since that letter BILL also found, Jack Weir, Carolyn Walter Bullock, Cecilia Rowe Spivey, and the BIG finder of all sorts, folks and things of import, ALICE Harriet Duquet.
From ALICE has come both gladness in finding some missing persons and sadness in learning of the passing of so many. Grace Harriet Bruton, and brother Michael Harriet. Vonna Belle Hendren,
Buddy Green,
Phylis Long,
Filimon Montoya,
Frank Naranjo.
Bobby Baca
ALICE has for reasons only she would know has given me a boost. Times when I wanted to chuck the project and go ......So again with great many thanks I again say thanks, danke, dave.
Betty Jane (Clark) Poteet, I send you my Most Beautiful Mental Rose in memory of Mary Lou.
To others that I have not written directly to and those in abstentia I wish you all well.
Vesta Jean Claiborne (You never write )
Arnold Hudgeons (keeping the store open in Gallup ZIMMERMAN'S)
Cecilia Flynn (had we saved our comic books where would you spend your $$$$$$$)
Cecilia Rowe Spivey (hope you get well soon and have a brownie for me)
Enid Douglas Westbrook (Bless you always me tejano)
Carolyn (Cal) Walters Bullock ( What could I say If I could say?)
John (Jack) Weir (Oh for the youth of it all)
My other gone but not forgotten pals and buddies.
Leo Funk,
Neil Gray,
Lincoln Caldwell,
Wayne Black,
Grant Augustine,CAPTAIN UNITED STATES NAVY
Miquette Padilla
Salute mi amigos.
Bill Caldwell has been so very supportive of my quest to put words of the past. He has kindly helped me contact lost (misplaced personages to whom I owe so much) friends and has reminded me of events I either saw or heard of. So here they are!
Date on this June 4 2007
Hi Dave.
Just a note to point out some omissions, and corrections in your school blog, as I remember.
Part 1 paragraph 5, We came here in 1937. (I was not sure when the Caldwells came to Socorro)
George Cook was driving a new 1937 Chev Coupe.
The Cooks had a little black and white spotted terrier of some sort named Pepper. George would come out his front gate around 6:30 to get his newspaper out of his mail box, and Pepper would invariably escape between George's legs, and run off down the street, with George yelling, and cursing him, and running after him with only his robe on, needless to say the whole neighborhood was awake and either laughing, or complaining by this time, and then a short time later after retrieving Pepper, and having breakfast, and reading his paper it was time for work, and Mr. Cook would start his car, and let it warm up at what seemed to be nearly full throttle, we always wondered how the engine stayed together with that treatment, but it did.
The Mundy family, Mr. W. E. Mundy, and daughter Milecha, (not Marcella), and younger sister Barbra, and Mrs Mundy lived next door to the north.
I remember vividly when Milecha got sick with German Measles, and died with a very high fever, this was a very sad time for the Mundys, and also for Me and my sister Burdie, as we were playmates , and knew them quite well.
Mr. Mundy had the Drug Store on the plaza, at that time, and sold medical supplies, also had an ice cream fountain. He later sold out to Percy Hicks, Hicks kept the same location.
The Caldwells came to Socorro from a small ranch near Golden , NM, and Madrid, NM,
and re-entered the car Biz in Socorro, as I previously stated.
The Dancing lessons began in Socorro about 1938 or 39. The teacher lived in Albuquerque and drove down about twice a month for classes. The name was Patsy Quinn School of dance. She was accompanied by her mother who played the piano for the routines. I can still close mine eyes, and hear the old lady playing humoresque, for the tap dance practice routine. I remember taking a lot of heat from some of the older boys about the dancing lesson being sissy stuff, etc. but I had no choice but to continue with the lessons and in later years I realized what a gift this had been.
Names of some of the student as I remember them as follows,
Myself, Bill Caldwell
Sister, Burdette Caldwell
Patsy Pickens
Patty Harley
Morris Eiland
Edward Eiland
Marge Frazer
Gene Frazer
Delmar White
Margie White
Bainard Gray B Butter
Marilyn Stapelton
I'm sure there must have been other, but no more come to min now. Cheers Bill
Since that letter BILL also found, Jack Weir, Carolyn Walter Bullock, Cecilia Rowe Spivey, and the BIG finder of all sorts, folks and things of import, ALICE Harriet Duquet.
From ALICE has come both gladness in finding some missing persons and sadness in learning of the passing of so many. Grace Harriet Bruton, and brother Michael Harriet. Vonna Belle Hendren,
Buddy Green,
Phylis Long,
Filimon Montoya,
Frank Naranjo.
Bobby Baca
ALICE has for reasons only she would know has given me a boost. Times when I wanted to chuck the project and go ......So again with great many thanks I again say thanks, danke, dave.
Betty Jane (Clark) Poteet, I send you my Most Beautiful Mental Rose in memory of Mary Lou.
To others that I have not written directly to and those in abstentia I wish you all well.
Vesta Jean Claiborne (You never write )
Arnold Hudgeons (keeping the store open in Gallup ZIMMERMAN'S)
Cecilia Flynn (had we saved our comic books where would you spend your $$$$$$$)
Cecilia Rowe Spivey (hope you get well soon and have a brownie for me)
Enid Douglas Westbrook (Bless you always me tejano)
Carolyn (Cal) Walters Bullock ( What could I say If I could say?)
John (Jack) Weir (Oh for the youth of it all)
My other gone but not forgotten pals and buddies.
Leo Funk,
Neil Gray,
Lincoln Caldwell,
Wayne Black,
Grant Augustine,CAPTAIN UNITED STATES NAVY
Miquette Padilla
Salute mi amigos.
BILL WITH BIG JIM CHILI BILL CALDWELL SENIOR PIC
Dave here is one of myself about 1975 or so, the chili is Big Jim, a very mild, very large variety, developed by the Ag. dept at NM State College, at Las Cruces, NM. I had about 200 # of this that year, haven't grown any more chili since. This year I didn't plant a garden, but will put in some turnips in late Aug., for a winter crop. I stay busy watering my fruit trees, and cutting the weeds. This is at the old place where we used to live, north of town. We sold the house years ago, but I still have part of the acreage.
Hope you can use the pix, as they are the best I can do for now. I took digital photos of the originals, and downloaded to the e mail. Will get the Chieftain pix for you soon. Cheers, BC
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Bill Chili 2
Hope you can use the pix, as they are the best I can do for now. I took digital photos of the originals, and downloaded to the e mail. Will get the Chieftain pix for you soon. Cheers, BC
The message is ready to be sent with the following file or link attachments:
Bill Chili 2
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