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Remember When

  • Carboard cartons never get their due

    A couple of weeks after Sears and Roebuck sent back Aunt Bessie’s check for  my J.C. Higgins Roadmaster, stuff was changing in a hurry.
    One of ‘em was my opinion of President Roosevelt. I thought he had made a big mistake. I just couldn’t figure out how one bicycle could contribute so mightily to the war effort.
    Mama was reading the morning paper about how tires, gasoline, sugar, electric ice boxes, Hershey Bars, and shoes, among other things would be in short supply for the home folks.

  • Walking home stirs childhood memories

    While vacationing in Maryland, I got one of those phone calls nobody likes.

    It seems that a hailstorm damaged the roof of our “Charlotte Road” home. 

    Somebody (not me) decided that I should make the trip back south by myself to check everything out and call the insurance company, if necessary.

    So much for my spring getaway. Sometimes this retirement gig ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

  • It's not a forest, but it will do

    Bless Pete, I’m suffering from Osama bin Laden overload.

    It’s kinda like having to unfasten your britches due to that last piece of pie you just had to have.

    Right now, I’ve had my fill when it comes to reading, watching, hearing and talking about the demise of Osama bin Laden.

    Now, the very first reports about him sure seemed like the kind of heroic story old veterans like me yearn for. 

    The Twin Towers mastermind was finished off in a way that befit his own lifestyle (see Matthew 26:52). 

  • Mother's Day pin never lost its luster

    – Editor’s note: W.B. Evans is on vacation this week. Due to reader requests, we are reprinting this Remember When column, which was originally published in the May 13, 2007, edition of The Lancaster News. “Mamas cannot be replaced, but our memories help keep them alive,” Evans said. “I’m getting mushy, but somehow I feels that she knows I still care, at least, if The Lancaster News is on the newsstands in heaven!”  

  • Things sure are smelling better

    Here we go again. It’s been a whole week since Easter and the great-grands are still begging me to hide the eggs, one more time.
    Fortunately, somebody invented plastic eggs. The mess of real chicken-produced eggs from the coop in the back yard that came to life thanks to Mama’s boiling and dyeing efforts are a thing of the past.
    As a child, my enjoyment of the egg-hunting didn’t last this long.
    Mama started the spring cleaning right after Easter.

  • Preacher's wives get to do the neat stuff

    On Monday, the President and First Lady will send out the Secret Service to round up children in Virginia and Maryland, give them a colored basket and a free pass to wallow in the grass on the South Lawn of America’s back yard for the 133rd annual White House Easter Egg Roll.
    Given the political correctness of the times, I’m kinda surprised they haven’t changed the name to the “Spring Spheres Rotation.”

  • W.B. Evans: It takes a spy to spot a spy

    You know, I gotta hand it to my neighbors who participate in our local crime watch programs.
    They don’t expect medals or fame. They enjoy the self-satisfaction of looking out for their neighbors and reducing crime.
    There was a time I was a dedicated crime watcher, or a least, tried to be.
    World War II had been going on almost a year. All of us were tryin’ to do our part, which meant rationing was an everyday thing.

  • Remember When;I'll take a dime store any day

    Bless Pete, these super stores sure are something.They have stuff scattered all over the place. From cabbages to carpet tacks with aspirin thrown in for good measure, they have it.
    To be truthful, these “supercenters” try to fool us. They will move merchandise around so we have to walk every aisle to find the headache remedies.
    Other times, they just flat forget to restock our favorites. Here’s the issue as I see it; not even the folks who work in ’em can tell you where the soy sauce is stocked.

  • I'm going back to story time

    I’ve just about had my fill of these cold, rainy days.

    They are dreary, but every once in a while, there is an upside to ’em.

    I couldn’t go outside and ramble with Tiger, but I could ramble in Uncle Harry’s well-stocked library. That was one of the advantages of growing up as the only child in a house of adults. 

    Uncle Harry was a well-read man. He not only gave me permission to plunder through the volumes on every shelf, he always encouraged me to enjoy the printed word.

  • Remember When: I gotta recall his name

    Now let’s be honest. Age has its embarrassing moments. 

    Just the other day, I ran into a long-lost friend. 

    He walked up, shook my hand and said he was glad to see me. Shucks, we had not crossed paths since the 1950s.

    We’re about the same age and I was sure glad to see him, though our chance encounter was somewhat embarrassing. 

    For the life of me, I couldn’t recall his name and I am so ashamed.