The Romance of the '50s

Been there, Done that, Remember the black marks on the concrete after smashing the caps with the hammer?

Kenn, The 1950s definition of "hero" was someone who a kid looked up to/wished to be like. Dead people rarely fit this bill. Earlier it was Charles Lindberg, later, Joe DiMagio. Kids dressed like Hopalong Cassidy...not George Washington.

A hero is whoever you look up to.  Among recents, I liked Stormin Norman, as I said, but not as a role model - I just though he was a hero in the national sense, and a good man.

My personal heroes will seem strange: General Leslie Groves (look him up if you don't know who he is) and Steven Chu, our Secretary of Energy (win the Noble Prize in Physics and then get unanimously approved by the Senate for a cabinet post, in this politically contentious age, and actually balance the politics (reasonably well)  while guiding the US toward fracking and other things we just must do even though much of your party disagrees - that is cool! 

Sounds the same, except in Manhattan we braced against building walls.  If we were to try playing it today we'd likely be visiting orthopedic surgeons.

Pete

Building walls?!?! Man if you over shot the line that landing could be a b..... !

Jerry

The guy with his back to the wall took the hit on overshoots.  It was fun!

Pete

Just to throw a little "modern" twist into this, data shows that in Cresson, PA rail traffic today exceeds by volume even that of the 1950's. All is not lost apparently.

I wonder how much of our modeling efforts are an attempt to escape to better times?

Yep, that's the definition I'm going by here, since we've been discussing 50s era memories and concepts.

I think children of any age first look to their parents as heroes & role models.  It would appear today's modern families offer more open and diverse views of everything.

I can see my grandchildren are so much older than their age.  I was about as naive as a young man could be....  maybe that's why as I age, I hesitate to make judgements about things I have no personal knowledge.   Was there a G spot in the 50's?  

Michael:

The data you are referring to may be gross ton miles.  With today's heavier car loadings and longer trains, this factor does far exceed that of the 1950's.  When considering the number of trains or snapper moves passing Cresson in the '50's, I'd imagine that decade would beat the current one.

I grew up in Lewistown, about halfway between Altoona and Harrisburg and in the '50's there were at least 80 trains a day over the old Middle Division.  Current daily train count for NS over that territory is normally around 60+/- depending on the day of the week.

Curt

In some ways kids grow up a lot faster now then they did back then (then I did for that matter), and it isn't always a good thing. With all the information available at kids fingertips combined with a more open society then it was back then, they learn things much earlier then we did, that is for sure. One things kids learn early is not to be so accepting of authority as we once were, which in some ways is good (i.e not assuming an adult always has good intentions if you don't know them, there is no way to know how many kids in my generation or earlier were trusting of adults and ended up victims, though I can tell you it went on and it wasn't as rare as most people would think..).On the other hand, there is a pressure on kids to 'grow up' in ways I think is unhealthy, I think in my time and earlier kids had the time to be able to imagine things, to really play, to be, well, kids, these days, with all the pressure on them, where making mistakes seems to be felt to be fatal, to do something and not have it turn out perfect, it seems like that is being taken away from them, and that isn't healthy either IMO. It is funny, I wonder if we could even get kids interested in trains, if many parents wouldn't tell them that is frivolous, that anything they do should get them ready for 'the real world'......we kind of have a disconnect out there, lot of parents who seem to want to be their kids friends, and a lot of them see themselves as their kids drill instructor to make sure they don't make a mistake.

Changing the subject slightly to nostalgia again, the theme of another thread here: "LHS said that the best part was the box!" 

I suddenly remember - I felt that way every time my parents bought a new refrigerator, washer, dryer, etc.  I didn't really care about a new appliance: but the BOX!   We'd take the box out in the back yard and cut windows and door and make a fort or cabin out of it.  Lots of fun until the first rain.   Oh that was fun.

We used to take the boxes apart and slide down the hill behind Eastwood Elementary on sheets of cardboard. In August the grass was tall and bone dry and the cardboard slid on it like greased lightning. 

There's a lot to be said for they ways we used to entertain ourselves, took a lot of foresight and planning to pull off some of the things we used to do, an inventive thinking outside the box approach to having fun I guess. And even more suprising is how little we actually hurt ourselves and if one of us did it was usually something big that went wrong, like an Evel Kenevel/bicycle thing gone wrong, and unless it involved stitches or a cast you sure as **** didn't tell any of your parents it happened!

Jerry

Jerry

Oh, yes.  Like the time my Dad asked me what happened to a model castle I was playing with outside before he got home from work.  I said I accidently stepped on it.  He said it looked like someone had blown it up.  It didnt' tell him he was right -- or about all the firecrackers I had secretly stashed away from the 4th of July.

My neighborhood buddies and I built an actual log cabin on an empty lot in the neighborhood that belonged to one fellow's dad.  We had his father's permission to take on this project, and if I do say so myself it came out pretty well.  Had a floor, door, water-tight roof, and actually looked pretty darn good.  Considering that we were about 12-14 years old at the time, it was quite an accomplishment.  Lots if interesting activities took place inside that little cabin, many of which could not be related on a family friendly forum. 

I don't think we want to hear the dissenting point of view on this thread.  We are talking about our young lives you know.  We were kids. Politics and what was going on in the wider world meant nothing to us nor did we often even know about it.  We knew about the war because we saw it at the movies, and we had to stay in the house with the shades drawn and no light showing during an air raid practice.  You pontificators need to put a sock in it.

I want to talk about cap guns.  Those kind that held a roll of caps were not my favorite.  I would walk a mile to the store that had those six-shooter caps that were on a round disk.  They were much louder because they had more gun powder in them.  Also they were more realistic because you ran out of "bullets" after six shots and had to reload.

.....

Dennis

"Put a sock in it". Well I reckon so Dennis some of us teenagers were off in Korea trying to save[?] the world from the communists[and MacArthur]. 

Gosh, you guys grew up in well to do circumstances compared to  the late 1930s-40s that I experienced. 

Apparently India was aware of its existence as far back as 400-200AD.  Ever heard of Karma Sutra?  

America was just being a prude back in the 50s.  Well, more accurately giving the impression of being prudish.  

I too grew up in the late 30s and 40s Dewey.  You know that from other posts I've made.  I've also pointed out before that we were not "well to do".

.....

Dennis 

But,  did you know that in the 50's?  It wasn't on my neighbor's doll.  She was from Jersey.

Oh my - what's the fun in that?  I've watched dozens of cowboy movies and I know, absolutely know, that a Colt 45 in the hands of a hero has, oh, maybe 40 or 45 shots in it before it has to be reloaded . . .

Reading all the cool memories you guys have lined up here, I am happily amazed at how much so many of us have had in common, apparently no matter what the community.

Caps and capguns. Man, I forgot about those, and firecrackers, too. Would you believe me if I told you that, one time, we put an "ashcan" under an actual ash can (garbage can) and blew it straight up into the air, like a missle, higher than the poplar trees in my backyard. We only had a theory it would do that and were stunned when it did!

Games. We played a version of RedRover,RedRover, but we called it "Ruddah-beggah" for some dumb reason, and we played it by havng two teams line their best, and mediocre, and weakest guys opposite each other, in two parallel lines, challenging the opposing team by saying (when it was our turn to do the challenging,) "Ruddah-beggah, ruddah-beggah, send ______ (the kids name you were going t' "mertalize") over." Then, he'd take off running in the opposite team's direction to see if he could bash through their defenses (nobody ever made it all the way through.) However, being chalenged did give a guy a chance to show how strong he was by dragging everybody around 'til we all collapsed into a screamin' laughin' heap of muddy wrestlin'guys. Nobody ever "won," but we sure felt like muscle-guys, afterwards, the dirtier the better.

Frank M.

Well, Don, now this explains a lot to me, about why we seem to be often in sync and why the friendliest things seem to get expressed between us, often, on this forum. (I'm still trying to figure a way to say thanks for your assurance about my not being an "antique," as I referred to myself on another thread.)

I too was born in 1944, and to your point about backyards being one common yard, as I'd put it, see that blonde kid crouching down on the far right, that's me, playing in a neighbor's yard. Behind us is my yard, and behind that is the boy on the left's yard. Not a fence in sight. Oh, and not a single bush, flower, or shrub trampled, ever.

Frank M.

And see this eighth grade classroom? 48 of us stuffed in there, and poor Sister wrapped up in yards of black fabric (called her "habit") suffering along with us in a June classroom, windows open for some non-moving, non-air conditioned (a rare occurance back then) air. Yet, we all bahaved well and properly (within reason) and were friends-to-the-end (even though we hardly ever saw each other again after high school graduation.)

And in high school, 1959-62, it was all about cars and girls. That's me sticking out the driver's door of my mom's '54 Merc, happy because plenty of my freinds were with me as I arrived at school for the day to begin...

Frank, every one of these old stories makes me smile.

We made "rockets" when I was a kid. I was about twelve when I saw or heard how to do it. I could go down to the sports shop and buy a red can of black powder. This was in California. Yes it was. Then we went to the Rexall drug store and bought a bag of salt peter. What do you think the clerk thought of three preteens buying salt peter. Then to Woody's (no pun intended) TV shop to get some old TV antennas. We cut the antennas and pounded a point on one end. Then we mixed the gun powder and salt peter and poured it in. We made a fuse of black powder, lit it and ran. This was in our back yard. My mom of course was home in the kitchen and didn't think anything about it. We sat off "rockets" all day. Some went up, some just exploded depending on our mix. Could you believe no one got hurt.

How did we live through turning over a Thimble Drome 049 gas engine on our model planes and have it kick back and cut the heck out of your finder. How did we ride bikes with no helmets. How did we flip upside down on monkey bars and not land on our head and die. I don't know. 

They still sell fireworks in all the stores here on the 4th and New Years, even Cosco. Even firecrackers in special stands. No helmet law. It's a small town feel here. That's one of the reasons we love it. Don

I wonder if anybody here knows why those three white poles were in my backyard.

Frank, I have my back to the camera and not wearing a dress but that's my best pal "Tippy" as a young pup. I think it was my sisters birthday. Don

So that's you in the one-piece kindof overall-shorts, about twice the size of the puppy and nearest him, eh?

Nostalgia time for me too. Born in 1945, got a Lionel Scout for Christmas 1948 from Sears. I had Hopalong Cassidy six shooters w/holster set, air rifle, and of course anything 'Davy Crockett'. Watched Annette and Bobby on a B/W TV eating frozen dinners and loved instant potatoes. Every Sunday my Mother fixed a pancake (1) when she filled the 16' iron skillet with Bisquick batter. Used old bacon grease from a container on the stove. I travelled everywhere by Schwinn, sometimes with my guys for a 10-15 mile trip to the resevoir to swim without a lifeguard.

My Science teacher gave us blasting powder and salt peter, we added sugar and melted it on a griddle until the sugar melted, then rolled the goop on the cold cement floor into sticks. These sticks became our rocket fuel we ignited by using my Lionel transformer to heat a coil of nichrome wire inserted into the rocket's fuel chamber. Our Science Fair project on gyroscopes and rockets won First Place in 1962. One rocket exploded against my friend's garage and burned the paint off. Almost forgot-carbide cannons

In 1955, I discovered the thrill of a Briggs-Straton gasoline engine as we all made powered go-carts before g they were invented. Speed was good, brakes not so good but to go without a hill was pure joy.

The log cabin in my back yard also had a tree house addition and the open neighborhood fields allowed for many football games such as Fumble-Fumble. We learned to play winter basketball outside with the rubber basketball.

Poor but didn't know it. Rich in memories.

PaPaT

Looking back, it is amazing to me how many excapades I had like this, that involved "explosives" -- how much fun they were and how prefectly safe the results were ("Oh, honey!  That flying trashcan could have hurt somebody!").  I'm not sure I want to encourage my grandchildren but I look back foundly on some tremendously fun capers.

My first brush with the law occurred in high school when I got busted for selling fireworks (they were illegal in Ohio).  I was a motion picture operator at my school, and the cops came into a classroom where I was showing a film and hauled me out.  Made me something of a big shot in the eyes of some classmates, I suppose, but I sure didn't score any points with my mom.

Made me something of a big shot in the eyes of some classmates, I suppose, but I sure didn't score any points with my mom.

Allan, that's called "street cred" these days!

Jerry

Yep, and ya' look good n' healthy, too, with that right heel up and your head cocked to one side, ready for the next adventure.

this surely is a fine thread of memories good or bad. I had forgotten the rolls of caps and the 6 shooters we had then. 

scale rail..... you too remember the era of no bike helmets we replaced it with common sense, ie a car goes over you one time and your not the winner!

now has anyone brought up the good old friction motored cars? or how about the bump and go cars or the speed boats with there own outboard motors that really worked. the tonka trucks that as far as I know were indestructible as i literally sat on mine never complained try that one today ha ha ha.

I walk down the toy areas in the stores now and see how well we had it with large bags of cowboy and indian plastic people to play with some came with the forts some not but we seemed to have fun and allowed to have a childhood.

my own children played outdoors all day long now with the homes turning over to families with children moving in again you could hear a pin drop during summer time!! amazing how times change.

$oo

Your thoughts here inspired me (I did all of those things; plus, the Schwinn was the "Black Phantom") to consider another aspect of those good ol' days - the things that concerned (but not quite "worried") us as kids back then. Here are a few for your consideration, guys 'n gals:

• whether to suck all the juice possible out of a popsicle as we ate it, or let it stay juice-filled and dripping down our increasingly sticky hands and forearms, all along the chewing and sucking journey through it; plus, whether to break it in half or keep it whole.
• when stepping into an ice cream parlor (for us in Pittspurgh it was Isaly's,)do we select sherbert or ice cream or a "Klondike" bar; this conundrum was further "exasperated" once Dairy Queen came upon the scene, and we had to decide between soft and hard ice ceam, too.
• Having earned the 50cents for a full Saturday (in by 11am; out in time for dinner) at the movies (25cents for 2 in a row, plus "Coming Attractions" and cartoons inbetween,) how shall the other 25c be spent? A nickle each way for the bus trip into town, or walk and save the loot for more treats? Will 15c go for popcorn and a drink, or for Milk Duds, Juicy Fruits, and a Charms sucker? (I would often take one of the nickles and buy my mom a gaggle of hairpins at the 5&10 across the street and present them to her when I got home. Years later, she showed me all of them collected into a large pile at the back of her top dresser drawer; apparently, I had bought the wrong type. She never said a word, other than to give me a hug, a kiss, and a warm Thank you, Frankie," each time.)
• When walking with friends and eating watermelon, shall the seeds be dry-shot Pah-tooey!!! at the kids head ahead of you, or do you quietly and politely just spit them into your hand and throw them into the grass?
• How far could I hike before dinner, so I would be certain to get home precisely for the 5:30pm moment my father returned home from work at the steelmill and we all sat down together in the kitchen to eat supper and share our experiences of that day. (My "sharing"was more of a report about how I did not get into trouble that day  or get injured.  )

I was born in 1947.  Growing up in the 50's was a great time in my life.  The

whole year as in a Christmas Story (1940's) was the same for kids in the 50's,

Christmas.  Only for me and my friends, it was Lionel, Marx, or Flyer, not the BB

Gun.  Was it perfect, no.  Life no matter when one is born will never be perfect.

But like others who have posted here, duck and cover at Lexinton Ave, Public School

was fun.  What the ****did we know.  Old Ike would take care of the commies.  Oh one more thing I grew up in Providence, Rhode Island in the inner city, I never remember the doors being locked in the old neighborhood.  Great memories from a time long gone.  

Many thanks,

Billy C   

Moonson brought up a point.  It is truly amazing how far 50 cents would go for a kid then.  A dollar was a lot of money.  50 cents was an entire afternoon of kid heaven at the movie house (we didn't have cinemas back then, as I recall).

Maybe one reason kids don't play outdoors much any more is air-conditioning. In the '50s I was never in a private home that had it. Going to a movie with AC on a hot day was a treat, but it really was not missed the rest of the time.

I still think it's odd when I see people driving on a perfect day in May with the car windows shut and the AC on. The "AC" I fondly remember was flying down a steep hill on my bike (a chrome-laden Shelby Flyer with fat white-wall tires) with the wind in my hair.

...and $2 meant 8 gallons of gas for my '58 Caddy convertible back in 1962 (which kept it well-nourished for approx. half an hour); or 4 gal' of gas and 4 qts. o' Iron City or Fort Pitt beer for my friends in the backseat.