By Margaret Shumate
For the Salisbury Post
My very favorite way of tolerating hot, humid summer days is to envision snow ó lots and lots of snow. As a youngster in the fifties, I can recall such actual scenes on many occasions. Bitterly cold, wet and messy ó it was wonderful! And if it happened to fall on a weekday ó no school! Hooray! That was an additional bonus. My family consisted of five children, our parents and my maternal grandmother who lived with us for almost 30 years. Our home, located on the corner of East Fisher and South Shaver streets, was old and drafty with only two fireplaces and a small woodburning kitchen stove for heat. There was one closet and ó can you believe it? ó only one bathroom for all eight of us. Thanks to a lot of quilts, firewood, coal, patience and the grace of God, we somehow all survived the long, cold winters.I can still see my dear grandmother, Abby, in her headscarf, removing clothes from our backyard clothesline that were so cold they were as stiff as cardboard. The older kids, including me, took turns chopping wood and hauling in coal from storage under the house. These were much dreaded chores. Sometimes I would procrastinate at my turn until I had to use a flashlight and consequently fight off spiders and any other creepy crawly things that might have been lurking in a coal bin.
Enough about the winter hardships. Let me tell you about the fun stuff! The Shaver Street side of our house was a steep hill and a child’s delight when snow would fall several inches deep. We had very few dustings in those days like those we now experience. We had REAL snow ó deep and delightful to all the neighborhood kids. Jean, Charlie and their lovely daughters, Tzena, Sheila, Lorna, Lisa and Sabrina, lived across the street on the Shaver side. Charlie, being the influential businessman and great father he was, negotiated with the city traffic department to block off “our hill” for sledding and we were in snow heaven. I’m sure Bernhardt Hardware sold sleds back then, but most of us either couldn’t afford to buy one or preferred our homemade versions, which included trash can lids and large cardboard boxes.
We slipped, slid, laughed and played until our clothes were soaked. Then, we would go inside for a snack and hot drink, change into dry clothes and start all over again. How wonderful it was for all the neighborhood children to happily interconnect at God’s blessing of lots of that cold, wet white stuff. It even made retrieving coal and firewood a little less painful, especially at the end of the play day when the thawing out process took place.As with most large families, income had to be budgeted and spread out to meet as many needs as possible. My wonderful mother, Grace, had a great aptitude for this task that befell her, even though many times there just wasn’t enough for fun things. On Halloween one year, with no money for candy treats, she made popcorn balls to hand out. The kids loved them and begged for more each year afterward.
Even today, at chance grocery store meetings, a “forever young” Jean reminds me of how her children still love my mom’s popcorn balls. She had given them the recipe long ago and now they are making them for their families. It’s always good to see Jean and/or Charlie. Charlie, now a retired businessman, is a wonderful father and grandfather. I’ll bet if it snowed four or more inches here again, he could still manage to get a street blocked off. He may, however, have to pass out popcorn balls as bribes.
Margaret Shumate lives in Salisbury.