My story continued The creek was a wonderful place to explore with chokeberry bushes and wild grapes at places along it’s banks. I recall that there was a wide, shallow part of the creek that had a big cottonwood tree with a large branch that extended over the creek. Someone attached a rope to the middle of the branch that hung out over the water. The older kids would grab the end of the rope and climb up the four or so foot high creek bank and swing out. Landing Ker Plop in the water. One time I hid as I watched my sisters Margaret and Hannah dress frogs in brightly colored crepe paper costumes. They hid the unused crepe paper in a hole of a tree made by a rotted out tree limb. They would never admit dressing the frogs. I don’t know why. Maybe, because they might have swiped the crepe paper from Mom’s sewing box. There was always something to do. If it rained, making mud pies seemed a good idea. If it snowed and wasn’t too cold snowballs were in order or rolling little balls of snow into big balls of snow to be used making a snow man helped pass the time. In the evenings, as kerosene lamps flickered, we listened to radio. “Fibber McGee and Molly” and “Amos and Andy” were among the favorites. Pop always listened to the fights. I can almost hear the blow by blow announcer, Don Dumfee, (probably spelled wrong) describe the fights. A hard jab to the jaw, a sharp right to the body. A crushing blow to the head. I remember listening with Pop to several of the Joe Lewis fights. I don’t recall the names of the opponents. I do remember that he seemed to knock out whoever faced him before the third round was over. He was called “The Brown bomber” and boy did he bomb his opponents. I’m pretty sure I heard his second fight with Max Snelling but those fights with the German were so historic that I might have been told about them so many times that I think I remember. He was a hero. The only fighter, to my mind, that ever came close to him was Cassias Clay, better known as Mohamad Ali. In the mornings we listened to Don McNeil’s Breakfast Club, broadcast from Hollywood, California. My Uncle Frank and his wife, Mable were one time guests on the show. Being a guest on a nationwide radio program was a big thing. Uncle Frank was among other things a past sheriff, rodeo producer and showman. More about all that later. At high noon in New York, as the announcer introduced it, was the Kate Smith variety type show. She was a singer with a wonderful singing voice best known for her rendition of God Bless America. In my opinion and most who have heard it, the best recording of the song ever made. In the afternoon, Mom and the girls listened to “Ma Perkins,” a radio soap opera of the time. And sometimes ‘’The Loves and of Life Helen Trent” another radio soap opera. Sometimes I would get to listen to ”The Lone Ranger” Part of its introduction was: “ Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear, when out of the past came the thundering hooves of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger Rides again.”. “Captain Midnight” and “Jack Armstrong, the all American boy” were sometimes available but the stations broadcasting them only came in occasionally and then the static was often so bad that listening became nearly impossible. Saturday nights was always spent listening to The Grand Ole Opry. Roy Acuff. Minnie Pearl and Grandpa Jones were only a few of the many stars. I have been a fan of country music all my life. I only wish the country music of today sounded more like that of yesteryear with tunes and lyric that can actually be heard, understood and sung. Although I have never had a song recorded, I’ve written many. I’m sure the Grand Ole Opry was my inspiration for my life long dream of being a successful song writer. In fact, one of the reasons I enlisted in the U.S. Army was the hope that in doing so, I could eventually be heard, meet someone who knew someone or catch a break and get my songs recorded by myself or someone else. I will probably include the lyrics of my tunes, poems, and vignettes that I have written at the end of this narrative. About the only station that we were able to receive was WNAX with studios in Yankton South Dakota and Sioux City Iowa. It billed itself as the “Voice of the Midwest farmer” Don Cunninghan broadcast the market report at fifteen minutes after noon. This was a report directly from the stockyards in Sioux City. A load of steers from the Nebraska ranch once topped the market and Mom and Pop were guests of honor on the show. The news of the day was broadcast at six in the evening. The announcer that did the weather about drove Mom crazy. His name was Whitey something or other. She absolutely hated it when, every night, he would close his forecast with the words “And Remember it’s always good weather, just different kinds of it” It didn’t matter if a blizzard was raging or the day was so hot you could scald and pluck a chicken from rain water falling from the sky. A bit of exaggeration, I know, but no matter the conditions, “Remember it’s always good weather, just different kinds of it” about drove Mom up the wall. To be continued
Posted on: Fri, 20 Sep 2013 23:19:19 +0000
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