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Remember When

  • 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.”

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  • 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.

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  • 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.

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  • 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.

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  • 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. 

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  • Using Cambuoy soap not a problem

    Most folks my age will never forget how Sunday, Dec. 7, 1941, changed our lives forever.

    For you youngsters, that’s the day the Japanese attacked our naval installation, Pearl Harbor.

    That was one rough month for me.

    Reality sunk in when Sears, Roebuck & Co. canceled my order for a J.C. Higgins Roadmaster Deluxe bicycle because someone in Greensboro thought it would be needed by the Army to fight the enemy.

    I still bet somebody whose daddy worked for Sears got my bicycle for Christmas.

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  • Remember When: My first phone cost less

    Gettin’ the word out is always important.

    Today’s cell phones and palm pilots are far advanced of my first one. They’re more expensive, too.

    Me and one of the fellas managed to make it home from Mackey’s Drug Store with a couple of Dixie Cups.

    Thanks to a block of Gulf Sealing Wax and a short piece of kite string, we were jabbering away in no time.

    Alexander Graham Bell would be impressed with our choice of raw materials. We knew that a waxed kite string offers the best reception. 

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  • I prefer my orange juice from the original carton

    I was lucky to  get in on some pretty good vacations.

    Uncle Harry had bouts with recurring asthma and found some relief on the Atlantic shores, namely Myrtle Beach. That meant lots of those vacations were unplanned and came at various times throughout the year.

    At the Grand Strand, I usually ate my fill of deviled crabs.

    Maybe that was a foreshadowing of sorts. As fate has it, I now find myself frequenting the “Blue Crab State” of Maryland.

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  • Come on in; I'll shake your hand

    You’re right. I don’t always practice what I preach and miss the mark.

    Cutting church is a whole lot easier than cutting school classes.

    You skip one Sunday service and, lo and behold, the second and those following are a snap to pass over.

    I could cite the old-age excuse by saying my legs don’t navigate as well as they used to. I could probably come up with a few more, too.

    Some folks like me spend a great deal of time out of the Palmetto State and it is impossible to be in two places at once. 

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  • New box grabs my immediate attention

    For my faithful readers, I usually attempt to recall my growing up adventures, which in many instances, are very similar to yours. 

    Life wasn’t necessarily better, although it was somewhat more relaxed. Things got done, but haste made waste.

    For me, it doesn’t take very much to stir up those memories once again.

    Sometimes, life turns full circle, kinda like a washing machine agitator.

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