Janice, 1947
Braving the cold was one part of my winter memories. I dressed to stay warm when walking a mile from my house on Terrace Drive to Adams School at 9th and Oliver, and a like trek to get home. I wore a yellow wool scarf, a brown plaid wool jacket, brown cotton snow pants with cotton insulation, red boots that were hard to pull on when you had to stuff your dress into the snow pants. Mom knitted our mittens with double yarn so they would be extra warm. She also laid our coats in front of the living room fireplace so they would be warm when we put them on. Only on the coldest and snowiest days could we take our lunch to school. I think you had to live at least a half mile to qualify to take your lunch. One teacher had to give up her own lunch period to supervise lunch in one of the classrooms.
My brother and I shared a bedroom over the garage and it had no heat. We wore thick flannel PJs with feet and a flap in the back. We did have an electric blanket to keep us toasty. In the morning, I always enjoyed the intricate frost patterns on the windows, created from our hot breaths.
Having fun in the cold was another part of my winter memories. One snowy day when I was in 5th or 6th grade, we had a wonderful wet snow, and I started a snowball when I crossed Oliver at 9th Street. By the time I got about a block and a half down Dellrose and had passed Barbara Hammond’s, Kent James’ and Peg Moore’s houses, I rolled it to the middle of the street and just couldn’t push it any further. It was as tall as I was and about the shape of modern-day hay bales. I left the snowball in the middle of Dellrose because I couldn’t move
it any more. I’ve always been embarrassed that I had to leave it there.
Marilyn Ash (Barbeck) 1957
Of course, we made snowmen and snow forts for snowball fights. We would sled down our steep driveway. In high school Marilyn Ash Barbeck and I went skating on the pond at McDonald Golf Course, and with other friends at Spring Lakes.
The approach of summer aroused more weather memories. Like Glenna, I remember the huge wooden classroom windows being open in the spring and fall at East High.
In the summer I remember sleeping with all the windows open for the cross breeze. When I heard thunder, I would halfway wake and feel the window sills to see if they were wet. I only closed the windows with wet sills. On the nights with lots of lightning and loud thunder, I was
sure I would be zapped.
On summer nights our favorite neighborhood game was to wait until it was dark after supper (no daylight savings time then), put on our jeans and a dark shirt and meet in the vacant lot to play hide and seek. One night my friend and I decided to hide under the moon flowers. When we sat down, we realized her mother had watered them that day. We got in to home base without being caught and the cool water did not feel too bad on a summer night. One night we decided to just lie out in the open on the street side of the vacant lot and hoped not to be discovered by being stepped on. Again, we made it in without being caught!
What outdoor pleasures present day children miss because of electronics, daylight saving time and global warming. I do think global warming denies children from enjoying winter fun, and electronics deny children the excitement of playing outdoors with neighbors. Being online or in a game just isn’t the same as in-person fun and having to work out differences of opinion together.
Editor’s Note: Janice was inspired to offer this piece after reading Glenna Stearman Park’s story about Kansas Winds. Original drawings by Barb Hammond.
Those summer nights were full of fireflies and memories. You mention the cold, and I remember standing over the heating grate and watching my full skirt catching the hot air and ballooning up like a parachute. My younger sister, Guyna, and I sometimes shared the heat while we listened to “Baby Snooks” on the radio. I love hearing the stories that are common to our childhood.