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| Remembering the past | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 30 2006, 06:05 PM (2,735 Views) | |
| mamamia | Aug 30 2006, 06:05 PM Post #1 |
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Do you remember Sunday dinners with the entire family home? What about those hot summer days/nights without air Conditioners? My parents put tinfoil on the windows to keep out the hot sun, that is until they invented those fiberglass drapes with foam backing. They never lasted long after washing a few times. Do you remember plastic flowers put in a vase on the dining room table. We bought ours from Kresgies (sp)? or Woolworths. What about the hula hoop, yo-yo, roller skates with a key, bikes with no gears, just good old fashion pedalling. Red, white & blue balls, flat white sneakers for girls, black & white hightop sneakers for boys with a rubber circle on the ankle? Wooden sidewalks give lots of splinters on your bare feet, plastic thongs giving you blisters between your toes & you'd go through at least 2 pairs a summer. What about those water pumps on the corner for us kids to play with and get a sip of water on those hot days. Did I forget anything? :playing: |
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| Willow | Aug 30 2006, 11:06 PM Post #2 |
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I was a farm girl! Does anyone remember......ringer washers (washing machines) clothes lines with long-johns frozen solid on the line.......backhouses with the Eaton's Catalogue.. (which have been mentioned so often these days that I really shouldn't be mentioning it).. hauling water from the well in the summer....melting ice in the winter in a barrel indoors for 'soft-water for washing dishes/bathes/&laundry', priming the well-pump when the water was low and if I remember correctly...pouring hot water over it to get it pumping in the winter. The Ice-house.............a small shed.... maybe 6'X8' standing over a dugout that was 5 or 6 feet deep and filled with the blocks of ice cut from the lake in winter when the ice was at it's peak...piled neatly into the dugout and then covered with saw-dust for insullation..thus becoming our refrigerator during the hot summer months. Jars of cream and milk and homemade butter, were tucked into this cool retreat, and covered in sawdust when they were retrieved. Does anyone remember..."Locker Plants" in small towns, before household deep freezers came to be....where you brought your freshly cut meats to be stored? Hmmm....can we only scratch the surface of our memories!! . |
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| mamamia | Aug 31 2006, 08:54 AM Post #3 |
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:): Willow....I should maybe have put this topic under the 50's&60's but it doesn't matter now. You brought back so many "more" memories I had put away & forgotten about. Thank you. I always wonders about those locker plants...they had one in my city that burned down years ago...now I know what it was. |
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| daffyd | Aug 31 2006, 09:27 AM Post #4 |
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Aye...memories...those days of yore....... Born in 1934, five years before the war,I watched them string up barbed wire and build pillboxes along the shore .I saw grey inflated barrage ballons float like elephants in the sky. I watched the planes that dropped the bombs, I heard wives and mothers cry. Everything was rationed, the tea, the cheese, the meat. Even the clothes upon my back, the shoes upon my feet. The enemy planes flew over, screaming birds of prey. They bombed us in our beds, at work, they bombed us night and day. An unexploded land mine lay at the corner of our street, a fire raged at the old Co-op, that made our nightmare complete. What little provisions the area had were lost to us that day, all we could do was to cry and shout, some knealt down to pray. We were evacuated to the Miner’s Hall and from there to friends we knew, with nothing but a night-shirt on, my legs and feet were blue. Relatives heard of our plight and they opened up their door. The young slept on a sofa, I slept with the dog, upon the floor. And so I passed the war years until the Spring of ‘45, things started to get better, I knew I would survive. To be continued............. |
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| Timetrvlr | Aug 31 2006, 04:31 PM Post #5 |
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Daffyd, I'd really like to read the rest of that story of your war years. Another well known British native, Jim Unger that wrote the Herman cartoons, grew up in London during the war and wrote about it a bit. I greatly admire the brave souls that lived through that time of terror and I think those stories should be told. If we knew that those terrible times could happen to any one of us, perhaps there wouldn't be such a rush to War. My early years were incomparibly better; I grew up on a small farm in New Mexico, far from the war but I was aware of it. In those days, before we had electricity, we all listened to a battery-powered radio at night. We had no reception until nightfall and even then, it required a very long, complicated copper wire antenna positioned just so. I was a little guy during the war but I can remember my parents both hunched over the radio every night for the latest word on the Battle of The Bulge and later, the war in the Pacific. We had a small herd of milk cows and my mother milked them by hand twice a day. Then she separated the cream from the milk by letting it stand over night and the cream rose to the top and was skimmed off for making butter. Then she churned butter in a two-gallon butter churn. The temperature had to be just right, not too warm or too cold, and it still took a lot of cranking to make butter. When butter finally formed in the churn, she removed it and it was washed in cold water to get all the milk out and then pressed into butter molds. Then she wrapped each one-pound block in waxed paper. Butter was rationed as almost eveything else was, and brought premium prices. My mother would sell our butter and buy margarine for our family because it was cheap. In those days, margarine was sold in its natural color, white. A small package of red coloring was included and you kneaded the coloring into the margarine to make it yellow. :blinking eyes: |
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| mamamia | Aug 31 2006, 05:28 PM Post #6 |
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Daffy, the war years are horrible and should never have happened. I don't ever want to see it happen in my lifetime or anyone else's. Such tramatic times you lived through :hg: , you are more than welcomed to continue please....we'd all like to hear more. Did you ever serve in the military or navy as an adult? So many men did & have so much to tell us that haven't experienced the horrors. |
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| daffyd | Sep 1 2006, 03:07 AM Post #7 |
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Continued........... We were rehoused by the local council in 1949, a bit of a garden back and front, at last most things were fine. The malnutrition I had endured caught up with me just then, I prayed that I'd get through it, I had to fight again. For I had contracted TB. It manifested in my throat, after several operations I could not sound a note. A choir boy I had been in my las few years at school, but when I croaked like satchmo, the kids thought that was cool. Time now to pause a while, recollect those years since '34. Pre-school...then the war years, a childhood lost forever more. There was no such thing as social security in 1934, no benefits, no handouts, in those days poor was poor. Work was hard to come by and for the lucky few, there were victuals on the table and a little meat went in the stew. For those of us who could not afford those simple luxuries, we picked sea coals from off the beach or tried fishing from the quays. We were given a few potatoes when we laboured in the field, it was better during harvest time we shared in the harvest yeild. Then came the winter and with it Christmas, that was the time I used to dread, whilst those in work had a festive board, we were lucky to have bread. Then my father he found work, as a fireman on the river, he told us tales of the bombing raids that invoked an involuntary shiver. The war would not last forever, the politicians, they gave their word, the new world would be fit for heroes and there'd be work for all, we heard. No matter how we laboured, no matter what we did, those politicians did not deliver, who were they trying to kid? It was the same old same oh, all mouth and flatulence, whilst we the poorest of the poor toiled on for a few measly pence. To be continued.......... :budo: |
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| daffyd | Sep 2 2006, 10:44 PM Post #8 |
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I'm sorry mamamia....it looks like I've hi-jacked your thread.... and in answer to your question.... yes I was in the armed forces. I was in the Royal Navy and along with a whole lot of other forgotten services men we did what was required of us at the time. The passage of time, a journey we all undertake with varied stops along the way. For some the journey is tragically short, for others the burdens are too heavy. Adventure and heartache go hand in hand and are all part of life's wonderful tapestry. In this posting the aim is to recreate some of the 'happenings' on my journey.... so far. From the age of seventeen with what little education there was behind me I set out to see what lay beyond my home town. I joined the Royal Navy. It was an adventure just getting to Portsmouth. I had my first ride in a train. That is not so surprising when you consider that travel was not a thing that the working class were familiar with. Just a few weeks before my enlistment I had my first trip in a car. Yes, these were all 'firsts' Another first was my introduction to H.M.S. Vanguard. Posted Image.........................and H.M.S.King George V (two old flames of mine)although I only served on the Vanguard. Whilst I was onboard we had a visit by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth ll. The occasion was the 'Spithead Review' 15th June 1953. Now that was a sight that will never be seen again. The Fleet was disposed in nine main lines and two additional main lines containing representitives of the Merchant Navy. Spithead, the stretch of water between Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight accommodated the Grand Fleet and was reviewed by Her Majesty onboard the Royal Yacht. The Fleet snaked up and down in 'line' over a distance in excess of nine miles, some one hundred and eighty seven British ships with fourteen Colonial Naval ships. There was also 300 aircraft representing all types that were currently in service by the Fleet Air Arm. On completion of the review Her Majesty came onboard H.M.S. Vanguard to, first dine with her officers and later to 'Illuminate' the fleet. All ships were dressed overall and on her command (a flick of a switch) the fleet lit up like a giant floating Christmas tree. The band of the Royal Marines were called upon to provide the music and reels and other Scottish jigs were enjoyed by Her Majesty on the Quarterdeck. Posted Image Needless to say the other ranks were rewarded for their effort with a 'make and mend' and 'splice the mainbrace' so all in all we had a spendid review. It had always been an ambition of mine (as a sailor) to place my head between two big ones ( guns... I'm talking guns here) and my first love (Vanguard) helped me to realise a young man's dream. Posted Image To be continued with Mamamia's permission...... :soapbox: |
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| mamamia | Sep 3 2006, 12:14 PM Post #9 |
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:action: :action: Please continue Daffy......I'm excited because I knew you were a military man! My uncle was as well....he has the same kind of salty talk that you have. He was a mechanic in the airforce for many many years, mostly stationed in Germany. Now retired, he loves to kick back, play cards & have the ole drink here or there. He is sooooo hard to drink under the table. Wonder why, was that a badge of honor back then, is that all they had to do-go out & drink on their leave :grin: ? Can you explain this : "Needless to say the other ranks were rewarded for their effort with a 'make and mend' and 'spice the mainbrace' so all in all we had a spendid review. " And have you ever met or talked to the Queen since? I can't imagine the excitement you felt at enlisting & your very 1st day. |
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| Timetrvlr | Sep 3 2006, 01:26 PM Post #10 |
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Good story Dafftd! Keep it going, we're interested. :thump: |
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| VickiNC | Sep 3 2006, 02:01 PM Post #11 |
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Daffyd, this first part of your story is amazing. What a grand piece of writing. Why did you stop the rhyming? It was wonderful. Thank you for sharing with us. |
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| VickiNC | Sep 3 2006, 02:08 PM Post #12 |
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Wow, all these things bring back so many cherished memories. I actually have a yo-yo at arm's reach right now. It's always been one of my favorite toys, and I still play with it from time to time! Willow, my aunt had a ringer washer! And we used to store all our meat at the Freezer Locker (the actual name of it). We had a fridge, but no deep freeze for a while. So all the meat went there! Oh my goodness, can it have been so long ago? |
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| daffyd | Sep 3 2006, 11:48 PM Post #13 |
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Good questions Mamamia......(DRINKING?) Servicemen then....but not so much now... spent a great deal of time away from home (why they even get home for long week ends now) consequently once they came home on leave they had a lot of catching up to do.... and all in a very short time. In my case we used to have eighteen month or two year commissions abroad. Even then after so long at sea and so short a time visiting various ports....we just had to let the 'natives' know we had been there. This was usually accomplished by the liberal supping of ale, bartering and buying 'rabbits' (presents for back home) and of course ensuring that the female population really knew 'what sailors are'. All in the BEST POSSIBLE TASTE! Your next question required me to explain the following: 'Needless to say the other ranks were rewarded for their effort with a 'make and mend' and 'splice the mainbrace' so all in all we had a spendid review. ' MAKE & MEND. This is an old naval term which meant we had a half day. In the days of yore sailors were occasionally given a half day to 'make and mend their clothes' or do their washing or other personal chores. To this day each sailor is issued with a 'HOUSEWIFE' that is not what you think. A housewife is a small pouch which contains needles and thread, thimble and wool for darning socks....etc. The modern, 'make and mend' means suspension of duties (except for the duty part of the watch) and if we were in or near a port, perhaps a 'run' ashore. SPLICE THE MAINBRACE.... again an old custom of reward, in the old days an extra ration of rum was granted by the Captain... to the ships' company. Later it was within the reigning sovereign's gift. The rum ration, a daily tot, was issued to all the lower deck ratings.... this ancient custom was phased out..... now they drink coca-cola or some such namby-pamby drink. My time in the Navy was sort of.....'when ships were made of wood and men were made of iron'....... not the other way about. Now to get back to my story....... I think I've lost me bleeding thread NOW! :angry: |
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| daffyd | Sep 4 2006, 12:08 AM Post #14 |
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Language has lost its meaning, there's just gibberish talked today, American slang and jingoism, I'm afraid are here to stay. Making out, referred to how you did in your exams, it was not the result of fervent foreplay that one wheeled about in prams. A stud was something that fixed a collar to a shirt, now I'm known as GODFATHER to my clan, the surname of which is BURT. Going all the way meant right to the terminus, planes and trains and automobiles were a bit posh for us. Grass was what was grown in a lawn outside the house, coke was a derivitive of coal and a rodent was a mouse. A joint was a piece of meat that we occasionally had for dinner, pot was to what we added water when making our gruel thinner. Rock music was what Grandma sang to young children should they cry, a sweet and gentle folk song, a softly whispered lullaby. Made in Britain was our kite mark, sort after and the rest, this heritage was passed on to our youth who were content with second best. :soapbox: |
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| Kiwi | Sep 4 2006, 12:40 AM Post #15 |
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I come from a military family too Daffyd. My Grandfather was in the army and served in both world wars. He was made deaf when very young when a mine went off next to him in a field in France, then his horse bit him! My mothers, brother (favourite uncle) was in the navy in the 2nd world war and worked his way up to chief petty officer. He came out of the forces and was bored to pieces, so he joined the army and stayed in there until he retired. He still sometimes gets attacks of malaria which he picked up while in what was then Malaya. My mother was in the RAF in the war and worked on the air balloons. We lost family members in both wars, and Manchester and Salford were very heavily blitzed. My family were in an air raid shelter when their home got bombed, leaving them homeless. There wasn't much help for people in those days. They eventually found another house and the street they lived in was a Jewish community, who called round constantly the first few days they moved in with blankets, pots and pans, food etc. My late husband, Ted, also served in both the navy and the army, and told me so many horror stories of how his friends were killed. I was born just after the war, but I remember the ration books. Going back to yo yo's, weren't they fun. Did anyone have a whip and top, I loved them. War is a wicked thing anywhere. |
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