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Tuesday, July 19, 2011
It's get cool in the hollow of the evening...or...the magic of cantaloupes
11:35 PM | Posted by
David |
The recent heat wave that has moved across the Ohio Valley just won't let go. It seems there is no place one can go to escape it. I got up at 5:00 yesterday morning to finish the roof on my new storage building before the heat set in for the day...it didn't work. By 7:30, I was soaked and had changed in to my third t-shirt. I lost count of how much water I drank before I finished up around 10:30.
Sunday evening I walked out to sit on the stoop just after the sun went down. I wanted a breath of fresh air and, hopefully, give my back and heat cramped muscles a break. I was wrong. It was still so hot and humid, I came back inside. I got to thinking about living in Beaver as a young lad and, in the evenings after supper, my parents and I would migrate to the front porch. My dad was in the swing, my mother in the rocker and I always sat on the steps and leaned up against the house. Once the sun dropped past the ridge, my mother would always say, "it gets cool here in the hollow in the evening". I can still see her with the pale blue sweater draped over her shoulders and by the time the sun had kissed the moon hello, she would put it on. It didn't matter then how hot it was during the day. It was, in fact, cool in the hollow in the evening. I still laugh when I think about her saying to my dad, "I hope those people out there at Honey In The Rock brought jackets, it gets down right cool at night out there". It could be a Dog Day summer's day and she'd still say that. My dad would lean over the railing, let go of his Pay Car chew and ask if there was any cantaloupe. I knew then it was the signal for their bed time. One of my dad's favorite treats in summer was cantaloupe and ice cream right before turning in. It wasn't just any cantaloupe. It had to come from Chawback's Store. Better known to most in Beaver as Ransom's Market. I don't think it made any difference. Probably something about boyhood friendship that made them that much sweeter and hold perhaps a wee bit more ice cream. When my father was in the VA Hospital after one of his many surgeries, he all but refused to eat. Nothing seemed good to him. One day right before my mother was going to visit him, she told me to run up to Ransom's and get two cantaloupe. I worked at a grocery store, but they had to come from there. She took them with her and my dad ate all of one and saved the second for his supper that night. I guess those cantaloupes were magical.
After my parents would head off to bed, I'd take my turn in the swing. Often on summer evenings, Buddy Setlif and his band would send the melody of Bluegrass up the hollow. One of the reasons I love Blue Grass today. I can still hear a low harmony version of Fire On The Mountain... Positioned just right in the swing just as night was setting in and all was quiet, the shooting stars would appear. There was no light pollution then and it's hard to tell where they were crossing the sky but, for hours, I'd lay there and watch them. By the time most radio stations were signing off the air, I'd pick up WWLS in Chicago. I can still hear the advertisements in my head today: SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY! It's the battle of the sexes at 200mph...see Big Daddy Don Garletts vs Shirley "Cha Cha" Muldowny at Downers Grove International Raceway...the Match Race of the Summer...SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY!
Then the chill set in and my mother was right...it does get cool in the hollow in the evening. I'd wonder if there was any cantaloupe left?
Sunday evening I walked out to sit on the stoop just after the sun went down. I wanted a breath of fresh air and, hopefully, give my back and heat cramped muscles a break. I was wrong. It was still so hot and humid, I came back inside. I got to thinking about living in Beaver as a young lad and, in the evenings after supper, my parents and I would migrate to the front porch. My dad was in the swing, my mother in the rocker and I always sat on the steps and leaned up against the house. Once the sun dropped past the ridge, my mother would always say, "it gets cool here in the hollow in the evening". I can still see her with the pale blue sweater draped over her shoulders and by the time the sun had kissed the moon hello, she would put it on. It didn't matter then how hot it was during the day. It was, in fact, cool in the hollow in the evening. I still laugh when I think about her saying to my dad, "I hope those people out there at Honey In The Rock brought jackets, it gets down right cool at night out there". It could be a Dog Day summer's day and she'd still say that. My dad would lean over the railing, let go of his Pay Car chew and ask if there was any cantaloupe. I knew then it was the signal for their bed time. One of my dad's favorite treats in summer was cantaloupe and ice cream right before turning in. It wasn't just any cantaloupe. It had to come from Chawback's Store. Better known to most in Beaver as Ransom's Market. I don't think it made any difference. Probably something about boyhood friendship that made them that much sweeter and hold perhaps a wee bit more ice cream. When my father was in the VA Hospital after one of his many surgeries, he all but refused to eat. Nothing seemed good to him. One day right before my mother was going to visit him, she told me to run up to Ransom's and get two cantaloupe. I worked at a grocery store, but they had to come from there. She took them with her and my dad ate all of one and saved the second for his supper that night. I guess those cantaloupes were magical.
After my parents would head off to bed, I'd take my turn in the swing. Often on summer evenings, Buddy Setlif and his band would send the melody of Bluegrass up the hollow. One of the reasons I love Blue Grass today. I can still hear a low harmony version of Fire On The Mountain... Positioned just right in the swing just as night was setting in and all was quiet, the shooting stars would appear. There was no light pollution then and it's hard to tell where they were crossing the sky but, for hours, I'd lay there and watch them. By the time most radio stations were signing off the air, I'd pick up WWLS in Chicago. I can still hear the advertisements in my head today: SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY! It's the battle of the sexes at 200mph...see Big Daddy Don Garletts vs Shirley "Cha Cha" Muldowny at Downers Grove International Raceway...the Match Race of the Summer...SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY!
Then the chill set in and my mother was right...it does get cool in the hollow in the evening. I'd wonder if there was any cantaloupe left?
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2 comments:
I love to read your reminiscences, kind regards, Kathleen.
Beautifully written remembrance, David. I've said all along: you should write a book...
Blessings,
Dianne