Some of my Mom's memories in the 1920s.

                                                              Onions

When I was a little girl, about seven or eight years old, my mother sent me to one of the neighbors, Matechaks, to borrow something. It always took me longer than expected.

While there I decided I wanted something to eat. So, I asked for a piece of bread. They always had such good home made bread, which was baked in an old outside brick oven, one that you build the fire in and then rake out the fire and put the loaves of bread in where the fire was right on the brick without the pans. They would let the dough rise in pans and then dump the dough out into the oven.

Well, to my disappointment Mrs. Matechak told me she was out of bread and was in the process of making a new batch which wasn’t raised enough to bake yet. She said all she had was some tea and onions in the house. So, I informed her I would have some tea and onions. I guess they got a kick out of me because they told my mother about it.

We, my sister Deanie and I, liked going to Matechak’s house. They had seven children.

Sometimes they, the children, would go outside barefooted in the winter in the snow.

Once when I was there with my mom, I remember seeing one of their babies, which was born not long before, wrapped up like an Indian baby. It was wrapped in a small feather tick and then tied around and around with a cord. That was when there was no central heating. There was a stove in the kitchen only. The stove pipe went up through the ceiling through a bedroom above and then to the chimney. 

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