Summer 1950

It is the sounds and smells of the East Coast that carry me back to the memories of my childhood in Virginia. Not the feel of soft summer breezes or the chill of autumn in the air. Not sight, for I lived in a suburban area then, not like the rural area I live I now. Not even the taste of the South that I could not find in the West - fried Taylor Pork Roll (aka Taylor Ham) or barbecue sandwiches topped with cole slaw - bring back memories as strong as sound and smell.

The smell of new mown grass, gardenias scenting the evening air. I can even conjure up smells to remember - the smell of some awful cough medicine my grandmother used to give me, or Geritol and so much more pleasurable, the strange and unique smell of the amusement park - a combination, I'm sure, of sea damp concrete, popcorn, peanuts and cotton candy!

When we first came to North Carolina, it was the sound of the birds that brought back those first wonderful memories. Birds songs not heard in California. Those long forgotten melodies were so wonderful to hear. Today, sitting on the patio in the back yard, listening not only to nature's sounds, the birds singing and the cicadas humming, but also to man made sounds - distant traffic and planes flying over head - perfectly brought back memories of being a child of summer in Virginia.

*  *  *

In 1950, polio was the big scare. For whatever reasons, the prevailing thought was to keep children indoors during the hot afternoons. Outdoor play happened in the morning. Cowboys and Indians was a favorite game and roller skating. Sometimes I would play in the dirt with friends in the shade of the tree building little cities made up mostly of roads and imaginary houses, choosing to "build" our houses in the crook of a tree root or somewhere in the open. But best of all, we would go across the street where the creek ran, trees on either side. There trees fallen across the creek would become our pirate ships or jungle bridges. 

Googled one day to see if 

Yardley still made this and

they do. So I now have some 

which I use on occasions. 

Smells so good.

Afternoons, there were always naps and when not napping, coloring, or reading. TV was new and children's programs rare and generally in the mornings and/or on Saturdays, but I liked listening to the radio, often while playing dress up. The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane was one of my favorite songs! If it was a particularly hot day (we didn't have air conditioning - yes, I am that old) I would keep cool in the bath tub. Filled with lukewarm water, bubble bath (lily-of-the-valley - one of my conjured scents) and a plethora of kitchen utensils, I would play until my fingers turned prune-y pouring cups of water into pans, frothing the bubbles with the egg beater and making all kinds of imaginary goodies.

At my grandmother's, late afternoon was always bath time anyway. Bathed, dried, dusted with Yardly's English Lavendar Talcum Powder, I would be dressed in clean clothes (elastisized lacy on or off shoulder peasant blouses my favorites) and be ready for supper when the family gathered to eat.

Evenings and night times there were spent on the front porch slathered and scented with citronella. Sounds of the radio drifted down from the hot upstairs living room window where Pop was listening to a baseball game. Memama, other family members and sometimes Miss Mary, the mortician's wife from across the street, would sit conversing about the day while rocking back and forth in the rockers.  My cousins and I would sometimes create plays which we acted out on the front steps, or play Red Light Green Light, Mother May I, Statues, and if we were really daring, go to the end of the street where the street light was and tell ghost stories and then scream all the way back to the house in the dark. Eventually, I would end up on my grandmother's lap watching the people go in and out of the theater across the street. The following memory is so vivid, I can see and hear it as if it were yesterday - some nights I would be awake as the last stragglers of the movie going crowd left, their voices clearly reaching across the street in the late night, and then watch as the lights of the marquee were shut down.  But, most of the time I would fall asleep on Memama's lap and someone would carry me upstairs and put me to bed to rest for another fun filled summer day. 

Those were beautiful days. I am glad I still have those memories. With God's blessings, I will not forget them as I grow older.