Does Anyone Remember Tang?

May 10, 2024 Carol Ann Erhardt3 Comments

When I look back at what kind of meals we ate when I was young, I don’t remember many where we sat together at the table. My dad worked night shifts on the railroad, so it was mainly mom and me. We ate a lot of soup and sandwiches. On the nights dad was home we had things like navy beans and ate them on top of a piece of bread. Or we had fried potatoes with eggs. Sometimes we had fried chicken and potato salad. Another favorite was chipped beef on toast with homemade milk gravy.

Mom slept in every day. So when it came to me having breakfast before school, I made Malt-O-Meal, usually chocolate for breakfast. I liked Tang, which was our version of orange juice. In high school, I rarely bothered making the hot cereal and opted instead for a glass of Ovaltine. In winter I heated the milk first.

Lunch every day in the school cafeteria (high school) was always a bowl of chili with crackers and a carton of milk. Never varied. I think it cost fifteen cents. I had a small lunch money budget to last all week and this is how I stretched it.

We didn’t have cake or pies often. Sometimes I had a treat of the wax soda bottles which had sugary syrup inside…just one little sip. I remember eating a lot of bread. I’d make it last by pulling small pieces from the slice and rolling it into a ball and then eating it slowly. The crust came last, but I always ate the crust. I ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly. Mom would buy the kind that was mixed together already. This is what I had in my lunch sack when I was in elementary school. I had a thermos which had either milk, or in winter, soup.

Life was simple then, and I suppose we were poor, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t know what poor was because all my friends’ families were just like us.

When I Was Young

Grandma’s Surprise

May 3, 2024 Carol Ann Erhardt1 Comment

My grandma was such a hardworking and kind soul. She had a treadle sewing machine and I remember watching her at work when I lived with her and grandpa. She made me dresses from the sacks that once held chicken feed. Those dresses were pretty and I never once felt poor.

I don’t think my grandparents had much money. Grandpa had a bleach route. He would travel from home to home delivering bleach to the women who ordered from him. I would ride along sometimes, during the summer months. Grandma worked at the American Distillery as a clean-up lady. She’d sweep the floors of the factory cleaning up glass from broken bottles. Every day she’d put on her uniform and go to work early in the morning, returning in the late afternoon. Grandpa drove her to and from so he would have the station wagon to make his deliveries. Grandma canned vegetables and fruits and made jams. These mason jars filled the shelves in a pantry room in the basement. She killed and plucked chickens for our Sunday meals. The washing was done every weekend, too. She made her lye soap first. I don’t know how that tiny little lady accomplished all she did. And still found time to make me dresses to wear. I was too young to understand then, but looking back I’m amazed at the wonderful woman I called Grandma.

When I started school I was told to hang up my dress when I got home from school and wear it the next day. That was the rule. Two days for each dress. One day I came home and since it was the second day of wearing the dress, I put it in the dirty clothes. Later grandma told me to remove the dirty dress and hang it in the closet. I explained that I’d already worn it for two days. She insisted I do what she asked. I cried and felt bad because I had disappointed her for some reason. But I dutifully took the dress to the closet and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen! A store bought dress! She smiled and told me I could try it on. Oh, I felt like a princess! This was to be reserved for Sunday School and special occasions. I danced around in circles while she smiled her sweet smile. Then she told me to hang it back up. I did, and then I hugged and hugged her.

Funny how these little memories stick with us. As I look back, I know buying that dress had been a hardship for her and she’d probably saved up to surprise me. And she did surprise me for sure!

When I Was Young

The Gathering Place – In The Hollow

April 26, 2024 Carol Ann ErhardtLeave a comment

Today I continue my series about my childhood community in the Hollow (Dutch Hollow, or Bohemian Hollow) as known by the old folks. I wanted to share a bit about community. There were about 16 homes in our section, a few more beyond the main road where we lived. My friend’s grandparents owned and operated the local tavern, mostly a gathering place where the main attractions were the jukebox and pool table.

A couple times a year, the adults organized a potluck. At that time, the pool table was draped and became a table to house all kinds of delicious food! It was a time of fun for everyone. We children played outside. The adults danced around the pool table, and moved tables to make more room. My dad taught me how to dance and I loved it. He was a jitterbug enthusiast. There was a lot of laughter, talking, and this gathering embraced a community of neighborly love.

The Hollow wasn’t like living in the shadow of Little House on the Prairie where these kinds of gatherings were held in the church grounds. Our church seemed to be in a totally different community. Myself and my friends were the only ones from our area who attended church, not our parents. We walked to and from, and it wasn’t a short walk! But I digress.

We children in the Hollow grew up playing in the grass outside the tavern most weekends when the adults would gather for playing cards, playing pool, and dancing. We played Simon Says, Mother May I, Hide and Seek, and Freeze Tag. As teenagers, we sat on the picnic table provided on the lawn and that was our gathering place. We drank soda from glass bottles. This was how we spent a lot of our summer weekends.

In the winter, people gathered in homes. My family would go to my Aunt and Uncles house about five houses away. They had a small television, which we didn’t have. But mostly everyone gathered at a long table and played silly card games. My favorite was I Doubt It, and yes, I was allowed to play, too. In I Doubt It, all 52 cards are dealt to the players. No limit on players. Then the play begins with the person next to the dealer. Cards are to be laid face down in the middle, first player with aces, second with twos and so on. If a player doesn’t have the required rank of card, they can lay down any other cards and “lie” about it. Before the next player’s turn someone can call out “I Doubt It!” If the play was a lie, then that player must add all the cards in the middle to their hand. If they were telling the truth, then the person who “doubted” must take all the cards in the middle. First person to get rid of all their cards is the winner. One can lay down from one to four cards at a time. If there are a lot of players, a second deck can be added which makes it more difficult to remember how many of each rank have been played already.

During weekdays, some women would gather in the basement of my aunt’s house where a large quilting table was set up. This is where I learned the art of hand quilting. There were many gathering places, including the kitchens of homes where friends would gather for coffee and talk. Sometimes a washing machine was in the kitchen and the owner would do her work and sit between loads and chat.

I look back on these gathering places and realize how different life is today. I don’t have any friends who live close to me where we can go back and forth between kitchens to share conversation over a cup of coffee, tea, or an iced drink. At times, I long for this, but I wouldn’t want to go back again. I’m content to make the most of the life God has provided for this season of life. Times do change and we learn to be flexible and enjoy the memories from the past…the good ones.

When I Was Young

The House I Never Forgot

April 19, 2024 Carol Ann Erhardt2 Comments

This is the house where I lived until I was almost 8 years old. It belonged to my grandma and grandpa Gifford. When I took this picture, I kind of felt like a stalker. I was in my cousin’s driveway directly across the street. I wanted to get closer and take better pictures, but I didn’t want to make the occupants nervous. Haha.

I so remember this house. I spent probably the happiest years of my childhood living here and later visiting for two weeks each summer.

It’s where I learned to roller skate, ride a bike, build an imagination, and where the most vivid of my younger year memories reside. I only spent 9 years living with my mother in the Hollow. I moved back in with grandma and grandpa the day after I graduated high school at age 17 before I started college in a nearby town. I think this was my comfort zone. Don’t we all have one?

The years in the Hollow were fun years, too. A time of learning new things, running free, and really honing my imagination. I made wonderful memories there as well. I just remember so many from the house above. The summers I returned for two weeks were filled with joy. Sometimes my brother or sister would be there as well. My sister and I still laugh about fighting over the biggest banana and running through the house only to have the banana fall into the toilet!

Grandma’s house was a place of warmth, love, and homemade treats. I remember the wonderful Kool-Aid popsicles. Grandma had these tins shaped like the fudgesicles in the stores today. There was a place for a round stick which froze in the popsicle. The kitchen was small, just like her, but she was 4 foot 11 inches of love. I never heard her complain about anything or raise her voice. Her or grandpa. They gave me a good foundation in life I will never forget.

So sometimes I go back in time through the memories to this little house. And I smile.

When I Was Young

A Picture Tour of the Hollow

April 12, 2024 Carol Ann Erhardt

Today I thought I’d share pictures of the Hollow during the last visits to the place where I lived from the age of 7 through 17. The first picture was taken from the entrance of the driveway from Dutch Hollow Road. This is where I rode my bicycle. I don’t have a picture showing the other side of the road that had all the homes of our closest neighbors and where my aunt and uncle lived. You can see the trees were fairly heavy still surrounding the road that leads to the highway. Going the opposite direction, one can get onto the same highway. It all depends on whether you want to go to Belleville or toward St. Louis.

By going toward Belleville, but crossing the highway (about 1/2 -3/4 mile) to stay on Dutch Hollow Road…and traveling another 1/2 to 3/4 mile, you’ll arrive at the church I used to attend and where I was baptized at 13 years of age. As you can see, this area is also in a wooded area.

I walked to church every Sunday. Walking was part of daily life in the Hollow. The back part of the church which you can see sticking out was added after I moved away. This is where they have a rather steep “wheelchair ramp.” I think it might have been easier for Mom to have walked the steps as it was for her to walk that ramp the Sunday we visited after Dad had passed.

These are images of the woods and the creek where I used to escape from reality. The place where I spun stories and rode my “stick” horse, Spooky. The woods were places where imagination took flight and a little girl could spend hours alone in pretend worlds. I spent a lot of time alone in these woods and that might be why I can spend hours alone in this stage of life. I believe it is why God brought me to this condo so I would have a little piece of the Hollow that helped make me who I am today.

I hope you enjoyed this little picture tour. I’m hoping to uncover more pictures to share in future blogs. In the meantime, I hope this brought a little smile and reminder of where you lived as a child.