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This memoir is a light-hearted social history of life in Story County during the 1940s. The decade of the 40s witnessed the death of small, family farms and the birth of agribusiness, the end of the Industrial Age and the beginning of the Computer Age, and the first faltering steps of television. It was a time of great trauma, yet for a boy growing up on farms near Roland, Iowa, the decade was filled with tranquillity and fun. Growing Up in the 40s reveals a decade with one foot firmly planted in rural small-town America and the other poised to step into the urban atomic age. It was a time when family values seemed as permanent as the great Iowa barns - a time that is now as remote as Scarlet O'Hara's antebellum South.
GROWING UP IN BRIDGEPORT IN THE 40S AND 50S is a collection of essays written by the author and published in The Bridgeport Leader over a two-year period, from 2002 to 2004. Drawn from the author's memory, these essays describe the sights and sounds, adventures, drama, humor and tragedies of the author's youth. With its informal and familiar tone, and its recurring references to local figures and locales, the author draws the reader into this world, making it more than just the memoirs of a single individual; instead the memoirs of a small Midwestern oil town.
Do you remember collecting shrapnel and listening to Children's Hour? Carrying gas masks or sharing your school with evacuees from the city? The 1940s was a decade of great challenge for everyone who lived through it. The hardships and fear created by a world war were immense. Britain's towns and cities were being bombed on an almost nightly basis, and many children faced the trauma of being parted from their parents and sent away to the country to live with complete strangers. For just over half of this decade the war continued, meaning food and clothing shortages became a way of life. But through it all, and afterwards, the simplicity of kids shone. From collecting bits of shot-down German aircraft to playing in bomb-strewn streets, kids made their own fun. Then there was the joy of the second half of the 1940s, when fathers came home and the magic of 'normal life' returned. This trip down memory lane will take you through the most memorable and evocative experiences of growing up in the 1940s.
Many of us who are sixty-years-of-age or older believe that we grew up in an era (the 1940s and 1950s) when life for a child was simpler and better than it is today. Younger people might find this hard to believe because we were certainly less affluent then, as the middle-class really didn't take hold until in the early 1950s; we suffered illnesses that children do not suffer today; and we lacked many of the devices and products that are commonplace now.Most of our homes did not have air-conditioning, or even gas or electric furnaces for that matter. We did not have refrigerators, freezers, microwaves, dishwashers, washers or dryers, televisions, CD or DVD players, touch-tone or cell phones, electronic games, vacuum cleaners, coffee makers, portable radios or computers.More than one car in a family was a rarity. There were no school buses; we walked to and from school. We walked to the store and lugged grocery bags home. We walked to the movies or wherever else we wanted to go. At around the age of ten, we started to stand on the curb, stuck our thumb out, and hitch-hiked longer distances or, if we owned one, we rode a bike. Most yards didn't have fences. Most people did not lock their car doors or the doors to their homes.At school, home, or even at a neighbor's house, if you misbehaved you likely got spanked on the seat of your pants. If you acted up in school, you got spanked. If you continued to act up, you were suspended from school. And if that didn't get your attention, you were expelled.When younger people hear about life in the 1940s and 1950s, they tend to focus on what we did not have and the seemingly harsh discipline to which we, as kids, were subjected. But what they don't focus on, as we older folks do, is how very rich and uncomplicated our lives were in those days.Our playgrounds were vast and varied: fields, swamps, woods, backyards, parking lots and streets; all safe to play in, day or night. Our games were simple, challenging, and fun, and the only equipment required was a tin can; two sticks and two rags; a flashlight; a ball, any kind of a ball; our feet; or a little snow-no money required; just imagination.We didn't have television, but we did have drive-in theaters. We didn't have fast-food places; but we did have soda fountains, candy stores, ice cream parlors, and ice chests full of cold soda pop at every gas station. We didn't have big-box stores, but we had five-and-dimes and dairy stores that sold gallon jugs of fruit punch and lemonade.When we played, we, not adults, determined the game to be played; picked the playing venue; established the rules; chose the teams; refereed the game; and, if we decided to, kept the score. We played not to win or lose; but to have fun. And we played almost every day-snow, rain or shine; sweltering hot or freezing cold-from the time school let out until it was time for bed, breaking only when we had to do homework or eat dinner.We had incredible freedom to choose how we would spend our days. We had the latitude to try new things, to take chances, to make mistakes and, sometimes, bad choices, and to learn from these experiences, good and bad. The brief stories in this book describe how two boys lived and matured during those wonderful days and tell about the people who accompanied them during their journey through childhood. The stories were written to show my children and grandchildren how their father's and grandfather's childhood differed from theirs.As with any trip down memory lane, our recollections may vary slightly from the actual events and, while I'm not aware that is the case, some of the stories in this book might be affected by this same affliction. In any event, this was life as I remember it to have been. Hopefully, the stories will entertain and bring back fond memories to those of my age who elect to read them.
This book was written by a great-grandma who wants to leave to her children the memories she has of her childhood. The book tells about the house she was born in, the church she attended, and the school she went to. It also tells about how the house was heated, how the laundry was done, growing a garden so there would be food through the winter, and living through the blizzard of 1948 and '49. She also tells about how her great-grandpa settled in Greeley County and how he built his farm
This collection of stories depicts the life of a young boy growing up in an Irish countryside in the nineteen forties. It conveys a glimpse of some of the daily and seasonal chores and events that comprised a dairying community in County Cork, in full view of the beautiful mountain range which stretches from Mushara to the Kerry Reeks. These stories are drawn from personal experiences and recalled fifty years later.
How can one begin a worthwhile story without the immortal words Once upon a Time? My Once upon a Time is set in the 1940s and fabulous '50s, a time where our world was being redefined by a post-war economic boom, all the while remaining true to the universal and unchanging plights and endeavors of humanity that will forever remain untouched by the passage of generations. It is a story of my boyhood in Thomas, Oklahoma, from my earliest childhood memories all the way through high school graduation. And like my world at the time, my story both uniquely defines me and simultaneously reflects my mere commonality to all mankind. Shelley's poem -Ozymandias- implies that everyone and everything will ultimately be forgotten: -Nothing beside remains . . .- It is this espousal that should compel those of us who have stories to tell, and each of us does, to write them down, to pen them into timeless monuments to the past and heralds to the future before they escape into the mists of history. As we age, our treasured memories age with us . . . evolving into greater and greater historical and personal significance, but fading and calcifying as time marches on. Napoleon said that geography is destiny. I hope you'll find within these pages that mine was a blessed destiny . . . one each of us can find some relic to share in and relate to as I recount endearing times at home with my family, adventures with my brothers, and infamous school day escapades with my classmates who helped carry the 40s and 50s into the memories of our hearts.
In her practice as a licensed therapist and through discussion groups all across the country, Sarah Brokaw has discovered that the women who navigate midlife most smoothly--who go on to prosper and to enjoy the best years of their lives--are those who foster five Core Values in themselves. In Fortytude, she shows how any woman can nourish these qualities in herself, and evolve and thrive. The five Core Values are: Grace - when a woman lives with integrity, capitalizing on her own strengths while admiring the strengths of others Connectedness - experiencing satisfaction in connections with others Accomplishment - the sense of realizing goals and getting things done--which is necessary in today's world, when women are expected to cram 48 hours of living into every 24-hour day Adventure - a willingness to seek challenges outside the normal comfort zone Spirituality - a personal approach to religion, and an understanding that life has a meaning beyond the day-to-day details In Brokaw's reassuring voice and through the stories of incredible women from all walks of life, readers can learn how they, too, can embrace and fully enjoy their forties, fifties, and beyond.
Wallach chronicles the universal journey of growing up during 1940s through early 1960s, the Golden Age of Innocence, in a series of short, easy-reading chapters based on the embellished life of the author's alter ego, Chip.
The best-selling author of BRINGING UP BÉBÉ investigates life in her forties, and wonders whether her mind will ever catch up with her face. When Pamela Druckerman turns 40, waiters start calling her "Madame," and she detects a new message in mens' gazes: I would sleep with her, but only if doing so required no effort whatsoever. Yet forty isn't even technically middle-aged anymore. And there are upsides: After a lifetime of being clueless, Druckerman can finally grasp the subtext of conversations, maintain (somewhat) healthy relationships and spot narcissists before they ruin her life. What are the modern forties? What do we know once we reach them? What makes someone a "grown-up" anyway? And why didn't anyone warn us that we'd get cellulite on our arms? Part frank memoir, part hilarious investigation of daily life, There Are No Grown-Ups diagnoses the in-between decade when... • Everyone you meet looks a little bit familiar. • You're matter-of-fact about chin hair. • You can no longer wear anything ironically. • There's at least one sport your doctor forbids you to play. • You become impatient while scrolling down to your year of birth. • Your parents have stopped trying to change you. • You don't want to be with the cool people anymore; you want to be with your people. • You realize that everyone is winging it, some just do it more confidently. • You know that it's ok if you don't like jazz. Internationally best-selling author and New York Times contributor Pamela Druckerman leads us on a quest for wisdom, self-knowledge and the right pair of pants. A witty dispatch from the front lines of the forties, THERE ARE NO GROWN-UPS is a (midlife) coming-of-age story--and a book for anyone trying to find their place in the world.