Marjorie Holmes has written a book entitled “You and I and Yesterday.” And that is what my Cameos have been about for these past ten years. My memories of yesterday, are yours similar?  

Girls carried their jacks and the little ball with them to school. At recess we clustered around an area and each girl took her turn bouncing the little ball and picking up the jacks. It was quite a lot of fun for the girls.

And, meantime, the boys often brought their marbles to school. Each boy had a special marble that he liked to shoot with. I never played that so I can’t tell you much about that game.  

Of course, if there was either a sidewalk or some hard dirt that had no grass we could play hopscotch. Someone would draw the grid on the ground. A rock could make a mark on the sidewalk, and anything, a stick or a rock would work on the dirt.  

Sometimes there was no playground equipment and we would get a plank and put it over a chunk of wood, or anything that would allow us to use the board as a seesaw.

Often we stood on either eend of the board and jumped up and down. If you were seated and the one on the other-end got up suddenly you received a hard bump or jar as your end crashed to the ground. Still we loved to try to seesaw.  

Of course we played “Jump the Rope”. Two children would get on either end of the rope and throw it while another child would run in and jump up each time the rope came down. If there were two ropes it was even harder to keep from getting tangled up in the ropes. Sometimes the children would throw the ropes very fast and we called it “Hot Pepper.”  

And then there was Hide-and-Seek. The one who was It would hide their eyes while we all found places to secrete ourselves. “It” would holler, “a bushel of wheat, a bushel of rye, all who are not hid, holler may I.”

And then the search began. We kept very still and very quiet but eventually we all would be found. One game that we played was called “Red Rover, Red Rover, Let Tommy or Billy or some other person come over.” Do you remember these games?  

There were musical games but I cannot remember all the ones we played. London Bridge was one, and there was one called “Ring Around a Rosie, a pocket full of posies” and lots more but the details have faded from this old memory.  

Do you remember the little snapper or clicker that came free with a pair ‘of Buster Brown Shoes? Some people called them “crickets.” They were used during World War II as a signal between members of the Army. I have not seen one for many, many years now.  

And I cannot forget the yo-yos that we all tried to master the art of making them do so many different things. I was doing good to keep it going up and down on the string!!  

When I was about eight there was a doll that all the girls were crazy about. They were called “Kewpie” dolls. For some reason I equate them with the “Betty Boop” girl of the twenties.

Do you remember when the phrase was “boop boop a doop” and that was what I think Betty Boop was supposed to say.

Anyhow the Kewpie dolls had big, bulging eyes. They came naked and you dressed them. I have my picture made holding my doll out in front of me. I think that this was just about as popular a little doll as the Barbie doll was for my daughter.  

Do you remember the State Spelling Tests we took each year? If you made a perfect score you received a pretty Certificate from the state. Only one year did I fail to correctly spell all the words. I will never forget the word “souvenir” because I spelled it “souvenear.” That error really made an impression on me.  

Back in the thirties the young people in my church enjoyed hayrides. Most of the time it would be the Training Union of the church that went on these hayrides. The Turner family was prominent and active members of our church and they furnished a truck for us to ride on.

It would be a big old flatbed truck that they used to haul lumber. They broke open bales of hay for us to ride on: We sat on the hay and some of us dangled our feet over the end of the truck. The driver drove exceedingly slow. Sometimes we went out to Stewart farm and pond on the Shreveport Road. It was near the present site of the La. Ordnance Plant. Our leaders provided bags of marshmallows, and we either brought a coat hanger, or the boys cut switches from nearby bushes.

With a marshmallow secured on the end of the opened out coat hanger or on the stick, we stood near the bonfire and slowly roasted, toasted and mostly burned that marshmallow. It would be black on one side and brown on the other, but the inside was hot and melted. Maybe it wasn’t that good but we thought it was “nectar from the Gods.”

Later, we sat in a circle around the fire and told ghost stories. The firelight cast shadows on our faces and made the shadows seem eerie. We were scared to death, but we loved every minute of it. The girls all squealed, and were scared, but if the boys were scared they put up a brave front.

Always, there was a word from our leaders bringing us the thought of God’s goodness and we always ended with a prayer. All the way out to the pond or to Caney Lake we sang all the old choruses we knew.

Often we sang about 99 bottles hanging on a wall, and if one of the bottles should happen to fall, there would be 98 bottles hanging-on the wall. You can see that this song could last forever.  

We sang “Underneath the Bamboo Tree,” and one-that went something like “He asked me for a date, he went away rejected, the feeling must be great, but I must be respected.” And “He asked me for a kiss, He went away rejected, the feeling must be bliss, But I must be respected.”

Then, after listing all the things he asked for and was rejected, we said “And now I’m old and gray, they say I’ve been rejected, they call me an old maid; by heck I’m still respected.” We thought that was sort of risqué to say “by heck” in front of our leaders, but they never chided us.  

I must tell you that the leaders, and often it was Mrs. Freeman Rogers, who was Maxine Alley’s mother, never had a discipline problem with our group. If she had, our parents would have taken care of us, and we knew we would not be allowed to go the next time.  

Eventually the insurance ‘company would not allow Turner Bros. to use their trucks for young people to ride on because of the danger of them getting hurt. That ended our hayrides. I am glad that I lived during the time we were allowed to have them.  
Many of us gathered at homes for “sing-a-longs”. The W. C. McKinney home was on Pine Street. Today it is the law offices of Mr. Jack Montgomery. Often a group gathered there with Virginia and “Bootsie” McKinney. “Bootsie” was really James Carroll McKinney who later became the Dean of Music at the Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas.

Several of the group could play the piano and we sang hymns, choruses, and old favorites from long ago. We harmonized. The ages would range from the early teens to those in the twenties. One of the youngest would have been the daughter of our pastor, the Rev. Vernon G. M1Ies. Bernia Marie Miles was about thirteen or fourteen.

I was about 18 at that time. Occasionally they met at my home. I did not have the room that the McKinney home had but we sat on chairs, the floor, or even stood around the piano.  

Lots of my generation remember the “Westerns” at the little theater that was beside City Drug Store. It was always on a Saturday. I never went because I started working on Saturdays when I was thirteen and that continued on.

After I went to work as bookkeeper at Andress Motors Company that was a six-day a week job, working until 5:30 three evenings, and until 6:00 three evenings. No time for Saturday afternoon movies, and no money for the movies either.  

These were the years that President Carter called the “Age of Innocence.” Girls were not afraid to walk home at night, because no one had ever molested anyone. We felt safe to leave our doors unlocked, our windows raised. People left their car keys in their cars.

We were blessed to grow up in such a town as this. Of all the young people that belonged to this group that I grew up with, and those that were active in the church activities, and there were many, none of them ever got into trouble, no stealing, no drinking, no dope, and none of the girls came up pregnant. It was just clean wholesome fun.

I am sorry that our current generation has not had the wonderful childhood we experienced. No money, but our fun did not cost money, just a good disposition, a love of God, and a love for one another.

Recently I spoke to Virginia McKinney (she was Maid of Honor in my wedding) who lives in West Texas and we remembered together, and laughed at our experiences. She remembers Minden as a sort of Utopia, and I guess she is right. We were blessed.  

Well that is just some of my yesterdays, were you a part of my generation?  

Juanita Agan passed away in October, 2008 at the age of 85. She had been a Minden resident since 1935 and a columnist for the Press-Herald since 1995. A constant writer, Mrs. Agan had many stories written but unpublished. The Press-Herald will continue to publish these articles as long as they are submitted.

Be first to comment this article

Only registered users can write comments.
Please login or register.

Powered by AkoComment Tweaked Special Edition v.1.4.6
AkoComment © Copyright 2004 by Arthur Konze - www.mamboportal.com
All right reserved