Growing up in Louisa – Smile and Say Cheese!
Weekly feature . . . by Mike Coburn
When writing articles for this column, I often need to revisit some of those foggy memories that resist being pried loose, at least with any resemblance of facts. That puts me at high risk to share things that simply weren’t, but please understand that my efforts are honest. To avoid these pitfalls, I have found that the past can be better understood if I can dig out recollections that relate or support what I believe is the truth. I’ve found that a very helpful resource is old snapshots either shared with me by friends, or maybe discovered in a storage box long relegated to survive alone in the corner of my attic from the past.
Without this pictorial support, all I have are some old stiffly-posed images of ancestors we display in our home as if we had actually known the individuals. For example, we display portraits of my wife’s long-dead ancestor’s in our foyer. I presume that is out of loyalty for family, or that visitors may at once see our stock and breeding. I recall that when he was younger, one of my sons thought the pictures to be of horrific, scary-looking zombies. I recently learned that he avoided the foyer when he could and used another door to avoid exposure of the frightening, ancestral portraits. It was popular in the day to look serious and avoid smiles, but I expect in truth, these folks had a sense of humor and may have actually been likeable. Meanwhile, I’m thinking of leaving the old relatives pics to my son so he’ll have the means to torture his offspring. What’s fair is fair, after all.
I remember an old photo from when I was a barefoot kid wearing rolled up, ragged jeans, with an unbuttoned shirt that exposed my poor, skinny ribcage. I wore a cockeyed baseball cap that covered only part of an overgrowth of unkempt hair. Tall and very skinny, that was me. That’s clearly what the pictures show, too. I had friends suggest that I was too thin to cast a shadow. Could have been right, but things have changed in that regard. During those ‘lean years’ I grew even taller, but could not gain weight. That made the gap between my jeans and my ankle greater. These became the first ‘Capri’ pants in the nation. Well, peddle-pushers, at least. My shirt barely reached down to my droopy waistband, but thank goodness it wasn’t the fashion in those days to expose underwear. I’m sure I would have lost it all if I had tried to wear them that low since I had no hips, per se. In any case, I was a sight to behold and one that only my sweet mother and grandmother could love.
Most of the time in those early days, I wore high-rise tennis shoes that had the little circular, rubber anklebone protectors. I usually had worn at least one hole through the top of the shoe and occasionally even the rubber toe had found fresh air. It was normal that I had to make efforts to keep them tied, especially when the string would break and I’d have to tie them in a knot. I discovered that it wouldn’t fit through the metal ‘eyes,’ with those knots, so I had to replace them. That is, when I could find any news ones around the house. That could take weeks. Once, I remember that I stopped in the ‘Corner Store’ and paid a dime or so for new laces. Of course, I had to make two trips because the first ones were too short.
In those days, tennis shoes came in basic black, but by the time I was in the 5th or 6th grade, mom came home with a pair of high-rise red shoes. Man! It was something to have the school colors right there on my feet. Of course, I would soon enough run through mud and would have scrapped them on the ground while riding my bike. Out of boredom, I would sometimes pry off the round ankle protectors and then try to reaffix them. I found that they would flap, so that annoyed me. I only ruined one pair that I recall, but I took satisfaction in that.
All my pants, whether the described ‘too short’ blue jeans, or my Sunday best trousers, nearly always were frayed on the inside of my right leg. Somehow it didn’t matter whether there was a ‘chain-guard’ on my bike because I’d still get my britches leg caught up in the ‘sprocket chain.’ I remember my friends tearing out ahead of me while I had to stop and work my pant leg loose. I’d rotate the pedals and pull it lose and then try to catch up with the gang. As sure as I did, I’d get hung up again. The only thing I considered worse was to have those dumb roller skates come off my shoe. That could be dangerous! Life was tough, you know. We had to keep up with skate keys and watch out for trouser-eating bikes. Life was rough for a kid back then dealing with life’s problems.
Let’s face it. As kids, we were seldom about looking pretty. Yes, there were ‘dress-up’ occasions, but even in that we were limited in our wardrobes and in our understanding of what looks good. Mostly, we played baseball in the dust, washed off in the creek, slid down the hill, rode our bikes through the mud, tackled a friend, and spilled our drinks all over the same ‘outfit’ we’d later wear to the movies. I had a couple of friends that dressed better, but they were either ‘momma’s boys or ‘Casanovas.’ We rough and tuff ‘regular’ guys and gals usually didn’t dress up until we were made to by an adult.
I was pleased when a long-time friend recently sent me a photo of the two of us taken together at a summer camp. Human nature required that I look at me first. Upon doing so I saw that same skinny, unkempt kid, but I looked happy. Then I looked at my friend, a young lady that I remember as a raving beauty. She was attractive, to be sure, but to my surprise she was just a normal pretty girl. The thing I remember most about her was her happy, bubbly personality, her kindness, and a spirit that saw the good in everything and everybody. She was very positive and encouraging and was truly excited in every new undertaking. She was confident and full of hope for the future. Those are the things that count and they don’t show up in pictures. I was so grateful she had sent the snapshot. I have it displayed in my home and enjoy it still.
As I have explained, looking like a street urchin was something that I was especially skilled at, given what I now see in the few pictures I have of those early days. Sadly, we didn’t take many pictures. Maybe it was the cost of film, or having to pay to have them developed. Do you remember when you’d turn in the used film one day and get a promise you’d have the pictures back in three days? When that day arrived, I would show up at the store to claim the prize. I would be excited and anxious to see them. I would reach into the yellow envelope with all that advertising and pull out the long-expected prints. I ignored the negatives, sometimes spilling them on the floor. I would rush through the whole lot of photos, usually looking to see my face, or a special photo I wanted.
I wasn’t that old when Eastman Kodak’s Instamatic Polaroid camera came on the scene! Would you believe, you could now take a picture and have the results within one or two minutes! Like magic this piece of paper would emerge from underneath the camera and would change into a photograph right in front of your very eyes. Wow! Isn’t progress fun? I wonder what would the kids of today think? The truth is they wouldn’t believe how far behind we were. Today’s kids are out producing selfies, celebrities, and recording for posterity everything they see. Further, they send the results out to the whole world at the same time they snap the picture. It just ‘makes your head swim,’ as granny used to say.
We don’t use cameras so much these days. Our pics are all done on our phones, or even with our laptops and tablets. We can elect to record videos, too. ‘Skyping’ allows us to have live video conversations and gives us the opportunity to store it in the ‘cloud.’ These new kinds of images will outlive us all should anyone care to look. That would be handy for someone like me who’s trying to recall things from back in the day. Like the pictures of our ancestors, some may find these newer ones scary, too. We would see that the grass wasn’t trimmed, that the porch needed painting, and the picturesque little village of our memories, wasn’t. Worse yet, fashions change, so we might look stupid, or comical, when the context isn’t understood. Maybe on the other hand we shouldn’t worry. We are so cool!
I remember that our family had one of those ‘brownie’ cameras prior to my school days, and later had another fancier kind of instamatic, self-adjusting, user-friendly camera. In my life, I’ve run through several, including movie cameras, and big heavy camcorders. Most of them stayed in a drawer or closet somewhere and were very rarely used. I had a habit of not remembering to take them when we went on vacation. Today’s small hand-held smart phones incorporate even better features. They have high digital quality, can be given a zoom lens, and will likely only get better. We call them smart phones, but it must be the camera that’s smart. It isn’t me. I have trouble understanding all the functions. They have more features than I can fathom or have time to learn. For this codger, these techie gadgets can be too complex. Over time, that will change, too. One day they’ll make something that even an adult will be able to use.
Based on what I see on the internet, nearly everything today is filmed. In fact, we often see too much. We have easy access to things our parents would have gone to war to prevent us seeing, or even knowing about for that matter. Many people today discuss openly what used to be private. That isn’t the point of this article, so I’ll leave it here.
Just think, photography came into professional use back during the time just before the Civil War. This event gave mankind the first opportunity to practice a new craft that has since become a tool for the masses. No doubt that it’s an exciting time we live in, but it can also be scary and even sometimes a little disgusting. Nonetheless, millions of images are building the archives that will become our legacy. Today, they are more than just a means to remember the past. They are a statement of who we are. Whether good or bad, it will be ‘out there.’ A paper snapshot can always be put away, or burned, but once a digital image sent to the cloud, it is a lasting record. It could even go ‘viral.’ With the internet and the newer tools constantly being developed, every record created will be ‘out there’ to tell your story. So, for goodness sake, remember to smile and say ‘cheese!’
