There are some who will deny the fact that official summer ends the day after Labor Day, And that from here on out Indian Summer begins. I suppose it was called that because the Indians were real busy like the rest of God’s creation [ Europeans don’t count] storing up their provisions for Winter. Europeans in this country would lounge until all was accomplished by our neighbors and then go and steal it. The shadows had already started deepening and the cool evening nights brought colors to the leaves of a slight tinge of gold. The cicadas had changed their sheet music to a waltz and the tree frogs and crickets were anxious to oblige. For me, Labor Day, was a grueling attempt to keep out of sight from my Dad, who believed in the literal interpretation of the holiday. I was always quick with a stomach ache and disappear in the woods maneuver. Even if I was corralled I’d put on the “slow shoe” and would be sent to get a hammer or screw driver and was captured by the enemy. So, by sunset, work being done and hated by my brother, we would have dinner and get ready for school the next morning. Gone were the days of casual awakenings and sleepy cereal, brush your teeth and out the back door til lunch.
I do remember the shopping trip for new school clothes making sure all our things were put into paper bags for another use. Blue jeans that smelled so strong of dye it would make your eyes water and stiff like a cat laying smashed on the road. Shirts, socks, maybe a winter coat depending how old you were and how oversized the one from last year was bought but then I had an older brother so certainly I could get some miles out of his old one.Blue jeans were bought in the same manner. Most of us boys wore them turned up at the bottom and the would be extended as the year progressed. But my vivid memory was putting them on and they were new so they didn’t need to be washed, walking in them and not being able to bend my legs. By the time I came home I would have third degree burns and was relieved to put my old ones back on. I figured if the Indians could wear buffalo hides I was no less of a man to wear these. Now when my Dad got involved it was to buy the correct shoes to wear and as you may be aware my Dad knew shoes. No one could ever argue that. Why, in the “grown up” world you are judged by your shoes just like your hand shake. They were the very essence of who you are and your potential in rising in society. Most of the boys were wearing Keds high tops. My best friend had a pair they were way beyond cool and thats a word we didn’t know yet. That’s how cool they were. And to top it all off, they were black. My heart sunk when I informed my Dad that’s what I wanted. I never realized that the Devil himself wore black, Keds , high top, tennis shoes.
I got tennis shoes alright, but they were some kind of boat shoes. Dad said all the ship Sea Captains wore them. I’m scratching my head thinking John Paul Jones and started to say something and he gave me a look, “ Don’t worry about it, they’re fine, besides, no one looks at your feet anyway!”
First day of school, grade school. that is. Many of us were fortunate enough to be able to walk to school. I found myself in admiration of the mailman from the experience. I was out there in all kinds of weather, but be it wind, rain, sleet, ice, snow or sun I would deliver myself to school.
All for the love of my Teacher. Ahhhhh Miss Meyer. She was like Sophia Loren to me. When I was unable to understand a certain point she was teaching she would come over to my desk and bend over to help me, this happened quite often.
To be continued.......
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