On Buttonwood Street, where I attended first and second grade, there were two stores on the same side of the street. If my memory serves me well, one was run by Mary Millo (?) and in my memory it was The Baloney Store. Many times of an evening, I was asked to go to the store for baloney for my Dad's sandwiches when he left in the early morning to go to work in the coal mine. We had a running bill there, which my parents paid at payday from my Dad's work. It wasn't every week, as I remember, and I don't know how long they had to wait for their pay. With the running bill, or tick - I think it was called, and we kids could go to the store with no money to lose and bring back the one or two items that my parents needed.
I remember when I had to have an eye test at the age of seven, and had to have my pupils dilated. We came home from the eye doctor's, and I was permitted to go to visit some friends. They had comic books. I was so delighted to be able to look at those books and read them. Well, you know what pupil dilation does! I was so unable to read those comic books, and was utterly disappointed! I just couldn't focus properly. So much for the comic books!
I remember being put in the front row of desks in my elementary years, because I was near-sighted and couldn't see the blackboards. And I wore glasses since the age of seven! What a thrill it was when I got old and had to have cataracts removed which permitted me to see well without glasses! I couldn't believe it, and I felt sort of naked without my glasses! Let me correct myself: it definitely was not a thrill to have my cataracts removed, but the thrill came when I could see without glasses.
Vaccination for smallpox is usually done on the upper arm just below the shoulder, and sometimes develops into a large scar which shows up if you wear sleeveless shirts or blouses. So my mother requested that the doctor put mine on my upper left thigh near the hip joint. He agreed, and put a dome of clear hard material something like plastic today is. He put adhesive tapes around it to keep it in place.
Perhaps a couple of days later, I went to play with one of my friends, Dorothy or Dolores Malesky. I can't quite remember which name. They lived in the alley that runs from Poplar through Buttonwood Streets; the back of their house was right next to the alley. Their latticed back porch was just several inches away from the alley fence. She and I were playing tag, or hide and seek, or just going around the house, running in a hurry. We went around the back porch, through that narrow space, and my thigh rubbed against the fence post protruding on the inner side of the fence, yanking off my little clear dome that was supposed to protect my vaccination. Of course, I had to get home quickly because of the blood oozing out, and I guess I panicked. My mother gave me a good scolding (it didn't sound good to me!), and washed off the booboo and cover, and replaced it with more adhesive tape. I don't know if I was permitted to go to play again, or if I just sat on the front step brooding. The vaccination DID develop into a large scar almost the size of a fifty-cent piece, by the way.
In those days, it was not unusual to have the tonsils removed. Because I had sore throats and swollen tonsils so often, mine were removed when I was seven years old. I wonder if that was really necessary. People today wonder about that, because tonsils have a purpose.
My throat was sore from the surgery, and the doctor and nurse said that I should have popsicles and ice cream when I got home. Wow! lucky me! I loved popsicles and ice cream!... so I had my fill of popsicles and ice cream, then.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
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