(no subject)
My dad lived in his childhood home across from our family cemetery in Missouri until he was 11 years old. They had electricity but not indoor plumbing. Saturday was bath day, and his parents would heat up the water on the stove. The girls went first in the hot water, and then the boys went according to their age, so by the time the bath water got to him it was cold.
They were too poor to buy meat, so his mother made potatoes and beans for every meal -- and biscuits three times per day. They weren't the angel biscuits we remember at this time.
His dad did whatever jobs he could get to buy groceries -- chopping wood, butchering meat, working at shops. Every Thanksgiving morning he'd bring all the boys out to help chop wood for their own family (and whenever else he needed them, too) and Dad remembers it being so cold. His dad would wear gloves and work in them to warm them up with his body heat and sweat, and then trade them with the boys' cold gloves to warm up their hands.
On Christmas they always had something. Dad's parents would take all the kids to Western Auto and let them each pick out a toy of their own for $5 or so. It was special for Dad to get to pick out something of his own.
Dad couldn't think of a favorite memory with his dad, but he told me about the Fourth of July story again: every Fourth, they'd buy sodas and fill a big bucket with ice and put the sodas in it. Dad thought this was special and neat.
Dad went to a school where all 12 grades were in one school room for 1st grade. His teacher would give an assignment to the first graders, then move on to the next grade, etc. There were about 20 students in all. Their recess would sometimes go 2-3 hours, since his teacher would fall asleep and they'd be careful not to wake him. For 2nd and 3rd grades, he went to Des Arc. His teacher was in a wheelchair and she kept a pile of rocks with her to throw at children who misbehaved. If you got in trouble, you'd be sent out to pick a switch for a whipping. If you picked one that was too small, the teacher would send out a different student to pick one for you. Dad said he didn't get whippings at school because his dad told them that if they got whipped at school, they would get whipped at home -- and with that many kids, someone was bound to tell on you. They'd be screaming it out the window of the school bus as you drove in: "He got a whipping!" So there was no hiding it; he avoided it altogether. After Des Arc, he went to school at Piedmont.
Frequently kids would come home with the Ruble kids after church and school and his mom would feed anyone who was there. He said even though they were poor, when you were making food for that many people there was always enough for one more. He told a story of one little boy who got off the school bus with them one day and came home with them. No one knew whose friend he was -- everyone just assumed he was someone else's -- and he ate with them and stayed the night. He came home with them the next day too. Finally on the second or third day Dad's Dad took him into town to find out who he belonged to and see if they noticed they were missing a kid. Dad laughed as he told the story of this little hideaway.
He moved to his grandfather's house after his grandfather died, and that's the house we always visited in Missouri. They put in indoor plumbing and so for the first time they had a bathroom inside. The barn here was built in the 1920s or 1930s and stayed standing until the 1990s when it began to fall in. Uncle Pete called Dad and asked if he wanted any of it when they started to take it down, and Dad asked for a board. It was a solid, good board and Dad sanded it down and painted it. Mom lettered it, "Rubles' Pool and Tool" as a sign for their custom-built shed in the backyard. I didn't realize that's where the sign came from.
Just recording here for memory's sake.
They were too poor to buy meat, so his mother made potatoes and beans for every meal -- and biscuits three times per day. They weren't the angel biscuits we remember at this time.
His dad did whatever jobs he could get to buy groceries -- chopping wood, butchering meat, working at shops. Every Thanksgiving morning he'd bring all the boys out to help chop wood for their own family (and whenever else he needed them, too) and Dad remembers it being so cold. His dad would wear gloves and work in them to warm them up with his body heat and sweat, and then trade them with the boys' cold gloves to warm up their hands.
On Christmas they always had something. Dad's parents would take all the kids to Western Auto and let them each pick out a toy of their own for $5 or so. It was special for Dad to get to pick out something of his own.
Dad couldn't think of a favorite memory with his dad, but he told me about the Fourth of July story again: every Fourth, they'd buy sodas and fill a big bucket with ice and put the sodas in it. Dad thought this was special and neat.
Dad went to a school where all 12 grades were in one school room for 1st grade. His teacher would give an assignment to the first graders, then move on to the next grade, etc. There were about 20 students in all. Their recess would sometimes go 2-3 hours, since his teacher would fall asleep and they'd be careful not to wake him. For 2nd and 3rd grades, he went to Des Arc. His teacher was in a wheelchair and she kept a pile of rocks with her to throw at children who misbehaved. If you got in trouble, you'd be sent out to pick a switch for a whipping. If you picked one that was too small, the teacher would send out a different student to pick one for you. Dad said he didn't get whippings at school because his dad told them that if they got whipped at school, they would get whipped at home -- and with that many kids, someone was bound to tell on you. They'd be screaming it out the window of the school bus as you drove in: "He got a whipping!" So there was no hiding it; he avoided it altogether. After Des Arc, he went to school at Piedmont.
Frequently kids would come home with the Ruble kids after church and school and his mom would feed anyone who was there. He said even though they were poor, when you were making food for that many people there was always enough for one more. He told a story of one little boy who got off the school bus with them one day and came home with them. No one knew whose friend he was -- everyone just assumed he was someone else's -- and he ate with them and stayed the night. He came home with them the next day too. Finally on the second or third day Dad's Dad took him into town to find out who he belonged to and see if they noticed they were missing a kid. Dad laughed as he told the story of this little hideaway.
He moved to his grandfather's house after his grandfather died, and that's the house we always visited in Missouri. They put in indoor plumbing and so for the first time they had a bathroom inside. The barn here was built in the 1920s or 1930s and stayed standing until the 1990s when it began to fall in. Uncle Pete called Dad and asked if he wanted any of it when they started to take it down, and Dad asked for a board. It was a solid, good board and Dad sanded it down and painted it. Mom lettered it, "Rubles' Pool and Tool" as a sign for their custom-built shed in the backyard. I didn't realize that's where the sign came from.
Just recording here for memory's sake.