reminisce brand presentation

The Magazine That Brings Back the Good Times • OCTOBER 24, 2OO7

sible to feed all of us!In light of our cramped house, we

had a dream of building a dormitoryfor ourselves in the backyard, puttingmoney away through our singing ap-pearances for our area’s local civic or-ganizations.

It was at one of these performances,in late 1955, that fame began fallinginto our laps. Dee Dee had just fin-ished singing for an Elks Club party.Among the attendees was a classmate ofhers, Larry Welk, who told her that hisfather, Lawrence Welk, was starting anew television show. Larry asked DeeDee if she and her three sisters wouldlike to sing for him.

The Next Big ActWe all went over to the Welk home

and wound up singing for Mr. Welk inhis living room. He signed us up to singfor his Christmas Eve show on live na-tional television.

For the first 8 years, The LawrenceWelk Show was broadcast live at 6 p.m.on the West Coast, where it was pro-duced, and 9 p.m. in the East. As weremember it, the show went to a live-on-tape format (with a same-day broad-cast) when the show transitioned fromblack-and-white to color.

However, from our standpoint, thechange made no difference in how weapproached the show. There were nocuts or retakes, so every taping was ex-actly as the live broadcasts were—goofsand flubs included.

Rehearsals took place every Thurs-day night at the Aragon Ballroom, closeto our home, at a now-vanished amuse-ment park in Venice called PacificOcean Park. The orchestra also playedregular gigs there twice a week.

We sisters got to know many of ouryoung peers from the era, includingFabian, Bobby Vee, Paul Petersen,Shelley Fabares, Brenda Lee and thechild stars of TV’s Father Knows Best.

One of our great thrills came whenwe appeared as TV guests a number oftimes on The Mickey Mouse Club. Wewere very excited to hang out with Bob-by, Annette, Tommy, Cubby, Karen andthe whole gang. Because of labor laws,we had to attend school while on the set,and we were delighted to have all theMouseketeers as classmates. Being ofhigh school age, Dee Dee and Peggythought this was “cool,” but not nearlyso much as we younger girls, who werestill in grammar school.

Staying GroundedAs for being celebrities, we didn’t

think in those terms. We saw ourselvesas just another couple of young girls go-ing to parochial school with our localcousins—70 of them!—and living nor-mal lives. Along with school, our regu-lar routine consisted of changing dia-pers and washing dishes—no maidsfor us!

As much as we loved singing, it didn’tdefine who we were. While we haveloved performing, we feel that none ofus, Dee Dee and Peggy included, had aparticularly huge drive to be onstage or

All Dolled UpThe introduction to thepublic of their Best Palsdolls has been a dreamof Kathy and JanetLennon’s for many years.The cloth dolls are repli-cas of the ones designedand handmade by theirmother, Isabelle, andgrandma Nana.

From childhood, thesisters recall that the dollswere the one thing theyalways took with themon their many travels.This has continued overthe years, including theirmany tours with theLawrence Welk Orches-tra, and even to this day.As Kathy and Janetmoved from hotel to ho-tel, they always felt con-nected to home throughtheir dolls.

They created Best Palsas a valentine for thenext generation of chil-dren and for the child in-side each of us. For moreinformation, turn to page55, where the dolls arefeatured as prizes forHattie’s Hatpin Hunt.

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On Christmas Eve 1955, weLennon Sisters, then ages 9-16,were preparing to make our firstappearance on The Lawrence

Welk Show, which was in its first seasonon TV.

Just before the live broadcast, some-one from one of the show’s sponsorssaid to us, “Only 30 million people arewatching…” Kathy remembers herselfand Peggy just staring at each other.

Despite having sung publicly only inchurch and at Elks and Rotary clubs, thefour of us rose to the occasion, not on-ly for that first show, but for most Sat-urday nights over the next 12-plus years.

We’d see the nervousness in eachother’s eyes, but we kept it from affect-ing our performance. At the time ofour debut, Janet was just 9 years old;Kathy, 12; Peggy, 14; and Dianne,whom we call Dee Dee, 16.

Ordinary BeginningsWe believe we were anchored by our

beginnings. Before the Lennon sistersbecame The Lennon Sisters, the fouroldest children of William and IsabelleLennon lived somewhat ordinary livesas part of a large family—at the time,there were “only” eight kids. Whatwasn’t ordinary were the living arrange-ments of our family of 11, which wascrammed, sardine-like, into a two-bed-room house in Venice, California.

At one point, there were two sets ofbunk beds and a fold-out bed in onebedroom and three babies in the other.Our parents slept in the living room,while our grandmother Nana lived in atiny room in the back of the house.

There was no room for dressers, soour clever mother obtained long, wide

bread drawers from“Jim the Baker,”who used suchdrawers in his deliv-ery trucks. Thedrawers fit perfectlyunder each bed andstored our clothing.

Our mother’s cre-ativity also came into play when shepurchased a single bike and a single pairof skates for herself, then lent them toher children. This eliminated any possi-bility of bickering and led us siblings tobecome resourceful. We recall eachwearing a single skate and scootingaround the block together.

There was very little money to goaround, especially for vacations, but wedon’t remember ever feeling deprived.We have wonderful memories of mak-ing annual visits to our Great-UncleMax’s apricot ranch north of Los Ange-les. For a week or so every year, wepicked fruit, went fishing and sold apri-cots at a roadside stand.

Our father’s job as a milkman alsohelped the money situation. One of theperks was getting 120 quarts of milk aweek for his family. Without the help,we wonder how it would have been pos-

The LennonSisters havealways lovedperforming,

but they sawthemselves as

the “kids downthe street.”

14 REMINISCE WWW.REMINISCE.COM

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By Janet andKathy Lennon

LENNON SISTERS Kathy (left)and Janet snuggle with Janet’sgranddaughters Ana (left) andLia, each with a Best Pals doll.

SEWN WITH LOVE, these dolls held byKathy (left) and Janet, at about ages 6and 3, were gifts from grandma Nana andmother Isabelle, best known as “Sis.”

CHATTING with Lawrence Welk wereKathy (middle) and Janet, whose signa-ture pigtails and polkas, at age 9, withthe maestro still are well remembered.

“WUNNERFUL.”Lawrence Welkposes with TheLennon Sisters(clockwise fromupper left),Dianne, Peggy,Kathy and Janet.

APRIL/MAY 2007 REMINISCE 15

Features of the Famous...

among other things, its extravagantevening fashion shows held severaltimes a year to benefit such Chicagoorganizations as the Opera Guild and

the Art Institute.Marshall Field’s al-

so had more in-storefashion shows thanany other departmentstore in the UnitedStates. Neiman Mar-cus even sent itsfashion coordinatoron a 3-day study ofour models roomand shows.

We models ap-peared in somany shows thatc u s t o m e r swould tell us,“I feel like I

know you.” Our wide-spread exposure by the store even re-sulted in my receiving a screen-testoffer from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer,but I didn’t pursue it.

The models room was just behindone of the six tea rooms and grillrooms that occupied most of the sev-enth floor. Fashion shows were heldfor their patrons almost daily, and onSaturdays, a show was held for em-ployees so they could talk intelligent-ly about the clothes to customers. Themodels rarely ate in the tea rooms,preferring the Stouffer’s restaurantacross the street, where I could get myfavorite concoction, a prune whip.

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for my husband, Sturgis). He openedthe door and said, “Bill, I want youto meet…” A long silence followed ashe stared at his resplendent blonde,his keys dropping from his hand.

Blonde worked, how-ever, and I was hiredby Marshall Field& Company, thepremier fashionheadquarters of theMidwest. Two furtherlittle complicationsfollowed. I didn’t havea picture of myself,needed for the storefiles, but not to worry.Across State Street was ahuge Woolworth’s witha photo “studio,” a self-operated one, of course(result at right).

The other complicationwas less easily solved—mywalk. Mrs. Levitas (once mistakenlycalled Mrs. Lavoris by an unlucky au-ditioning model) said I had an unfor-tunate tendency. Sternly, she said,“Ladies do not wiggle their behindswhen they walk.” She promised to getme over that, and so she did (to thisday, I think!).

Each girl chosen was also given alittle heart-to-heart talk, advisingthat she was now a “face” for Mar-shall Field’s and that if she wantedto stay, no scandal must ever be as-sociated with her name—ever! Wewere also expected to dress well, evenwhile out in public on nonworkingdays. We were aided by a 20 percentdiscount on all purchases.

Marshall Field’s paid scale, even tochild models; my son, John, earnedhis precious Black Phantom bicycleand his electric train layout that way.I began modeling because I couldmake more in 1 hour than I made fora full week at the newspaper.

In the 1940s and ’50s, MarshallField & Company was noted for,

Modeling careerbegan with a quickcolor change and adime-store photo.

Stockings were mandatory, butwomen were finally able to shed thewool, silk or lisle stockings for thosesheer, light miracles called nylons!They still had a seam up the backthat had to be kept absolutely straight,and oh, how those little devils wan-dered. Then came the seamless nylon,and our joy was complete.

Marshall Field’s sponsored a lot ofearly Chicago TV. Among the manyTV commercials I did was one onthe Don McNeill TV Club show intro-ducing the Barca chair, a full-lengthlounger shaped like a dental chair. Iwas supposed to approach the chairand position myself on it elegantly,but when I sat down, the chair flippedover backward. There I was, legs sky-ward, my feet flailing to get upright.

Cameras for the show, broadcastlive from Chicago, were hastily shift-ed. I was rescued and had to crawlon all fours to stay out of camerarange. I remember thinking, Well, soends this career. But my boss, LarrySizer, the promotions director,laughed and said, “Katie, promise meyou’ll do that every week!”

My modeling career ended whenmy husband was transferred to SanFrancisco, but I’ll always re-member Marshall Field’sas a wonderful place towork.

Apicture taken in an F.W. Woolworthstore’s photo booth tells the story ofhow I started a 12-year modeling ca-reer (below left) with Marshall Field& Company of Chicago.

Mrs. Louise Levitas, who ran themodels room at the Marshall Field’sstore in downtown Chicago, told meat a March 1944 audition for modelsthat she was looking for a blonde.

My background as a newspaper re-porter for The Indianapolis Times hadtaught me the lesson “Never give up.”Accordingly, just before the April au-dition, I invested in a big bottle of hy-drogen peroxide and some ammonia,poured them in a bucket and dunkedmy head in it. Wow! She wanted ablonde, and she was going to get one!

I had neglected to tell my darlinghusband of my plan, however, andthat evening, he had chosen to bring

home a fellow Time magazineworker to meet me.

When I heard keys in-serted into the lock, I was

on the other side ofthe door waiting

for “Wellsie”(nickname

By Kate WellsDelray Beach, Florida

MODELS DINING at Chicago’s DrakeHotel after a 1946 fashion show were(from left) Nancy MacBirney, MarianWeisert, Wally Wenstrand, BunnyCooke, the author, Virginia Crouse andNola Cuttie (by Wally’s husband, Rick).

APRIL/MAY 2007 REMINISCE 23

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Kate Wells strikes a pose in aMarshall Field’s ad for Vogue.

...and the ALMOST Famous

▲ READY TO ROLL. “This picture ofmy father, Lafe Heuszel, was takenwhen he lived with his family in SaukCentre, Minnesota,” remembers Don

Heuszel of Albuquerque, New Mexi-co. “As you can see, he was a sales-man for the W.T. Rawleigh Company,his routes including small towns and

farms in the area. He later continuedhis career in Paynesville. Standing onthe right in the photograph are mymother, Maude, and brother, Jesse.”

▲ LOVELY LACE, COILED CURLS. “Thisis a photograph of my mother, ElizabethDonovan, born in 1897 in the Red Hookarea of Brooklyn, New York,” explainsJoseph Padberg of Hershey, Pennsylvania.“My mother was 13 years old in the pic-ture and had just made her confirmationat Visitation Church in Brooklyn. She latermarried my father, Joseph Padberg, alsofrom the Red Hook neighborhood.” Thebeautiful portrait was taken by Sol. YoungStudios, then at 597 and 599 Fulton St. inBrooklyn, with locations at 17 UnionSquare and 1204 Broadway in New York.

▲ CLASS OF ’05. “My mother, then RuthBelle Miller, graduated from high schoolin Chicago, in 1905, and sat for this grad-uation portrait,” says Dorothy Sibert ofOregon City, Oregon. “After marrying,she became Ruth Beers. I still have thegraduation dress she wore that day.”

For more old photos,see our Web site:

www.reminisce.com

JUNE/JULY 2007 REMINISCE 29

Nostalgic photos—from thefamily albums of our readers.

▲ TRIPLETS (from left) Molly, Dolly and Sally Romero were born in 1946and stayed in New Iberia (Louisiana) Hospital for 6-1/2 months. “Ourmom died 3 days after giving birth. Our dad worked day and night tokeep his precious girls,” says one of the triplets, Molly Jeanis of BridgeCity, Texas. “We celebrated our 60th birthday this past November.”

▲ “AS TWINS, Margaret and Virginia were a complete surpriseto my parents and the doctor,” notes brother Bill McMorran ofCharleston, West Virginia, also in the 1928 photo. “They weren’texpected to live, but I still have fun with them, now at age 78.”


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▲ EARLY SET OF WHEELS. “I’m the tyke on the left and mybrother Herbert is in the ‘front seat’ of a wagon at our neigh-bors’ farmhouse in 1923,” points out Harold Harrington fromBryan, Ohio. “Our farm was across the road in the countryside out-side of Bryan. I was 2 years old and my brother was age 3-1/2,but that’s the extent of what I know about the photograph.”

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Vintage Pictorials

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▲ SUN, SAND AND A SILLY SMILE.One little girl in this photo was tryingto keep her smile while fighting theglare of the sun. This family was tak-ing in the sunny weather at Heckman’sGrove Beach in Massachusetts, writesHenry Littlejohn from Severna Park,Maryland. The slide appears to havebeen taken sometime in the 1950s.

▼ NOSE CONES. “These are our firsttwo children, Brenda (left) and Kathy,ages 1 and 2, during a camping trip toYosemite National Park, in ’53,” writeBill and Audrey Fridsma from Willard,Ohio. “We set them down with theirfirst cones of the year. The cones wentto their lips—and a nose—and stayedthere till the ice cream was gone. Nota peep was heard from either of them.”

▼

JULY 2007 REMINISCE EXTRA 1110 REMINISCE EXTRA WWW. REMINISCE.COM

▲ POSING POOLSIDE. “My two daughters, Linda (left) andSandy, were enjoying the pool at a motel in Columbus, Ohioin this slide from the early 1960s,” recalls Michael Lacivita,who still lives in the family’s Youngstown house from thattime. “We took mini vacations then, not having much mon-ey. Each of my girls now has two children of her own.”

▲▼ SWINE LIVIN’ FOR A CITY GIRL. “My daughter, Martha Born-schlege, was 2-1/2 years old when she made her first visit, in 1951, tothe Jansen farm run by her daddy’s uncle and aunt,” explains MaritaMcKay of Arvada, Colorado. “She really enjoyed the farm, locatednear Emery, South Dakota. She picked up a chicken and carried itall over the farm, and she was quite fascinated by those pigs.”

Retro Pictorials

Straight from the Horse’s TailWHEN AN EYELASH or other itemgot into our eyes, my dad used ahomemade contraption to removethe offending object with no discom-fort to us.

The tool was a black hair from ahorse’s tail, looped and then securedto a matchstick by winding sewingthread around the stick.

The looped horsehair could not befelt as it was pulled across the eye, re-moving any foreign matter. Take notethat a white horsehair won’t work.

Dad brought this remedy with himfrom Austria when he came to thiscountry as a young man. I still havethe original tool, and it still does thejob. —Michael Gabaly Jr.

Cherry Hill, New Jersey

Grandma’s White LightningGRANDMA LESH would fix up aremedy that fixed anything. It evenworked as a bug repellent (it smelledso bad that a bug wouldn’t go nearyou).

Grandma mixed several things in-to a gallon container and shook it allup. I’ve misplaced her recipe, but I re-member some of the ingredients abottle of rubbing alcohol, a bottle ofperoxide and 23 crushed aspirintablets.

The clear, smelly mixture workedwell for insect bites, earaches andtoothaches. Applied to a splinter witha cotton ball, the concoction made thesplinter pop right out.

If you had any ache or pain, Grand-ma would say, “Fetch me the jug ofwhite lightning.” In the ’50s, I had a

bad sunburn and couldn’t sleep.Grandma was soon there with her jug.The remedy burned terribly, but in ashort time, the pain was gone. Thesunburn never blistered or peeled.

At the lake, with so many of uskids, Grandma kept her jug and cot-ton balls close by. —Cindy Pugh

Ossian, Indiana

Jewel of a Rash CureTHERE IS a wildflower that grows inlowlands called jewelweed—somecall it “touch-me-not.” If you touchit when the seeds are ready to drop,there is a snapping noise, and theseeds blow into the air so fast that youcan’t see where they go.

For poison ivy, we would break thestem of the jewelweed and let thesap inside drip on the skin rash. In avery short time, the itch was gone. Ithas really worked for me.

—Paul Keysor, Cato, New York

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Remedies We’d Rather Forget

AMUSING MORSELS AND BITS OF WISDOM…OVERHEARD AND READ HERE AND THERE.

STILL PUZZLED? Here are the answers for the Reminiscepuzzle on page 58. We hope you enjoyed the challenge!

C O H A N V I C T O R Y G A R D E N S C O N NA U R O R E P UR T Z S N E A D G I M B E L S A R TM I S S O U R I E G Y O M SE O O N E S L O W B O A T RN I N T K A I S E R E B E S

T A S A L P Y L E E D N AS R S S H S C D

B L U E J E A N S B T H E G O L D B E R G SI U I E O N X A O AR U M S T A G E D O O R C A N T E E N U S M CA B T A M I Y R S K

B E R L E S H A R V E Y E S S O LG R R L H E N P V M A I LR P B I P A T T Y I N A DA V A B U L G E E H D I M A G G I OH R G H F R O M L E TA U T R Y S T E L L A B A L I P E R S K EM Y 0 O B T N D

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They Hadn’t Prayed for RainBACK IN 1935, when I was 10 yearsold, my father was custodian of ourchurch house, and I’d help him dustand clean the building, which wassurrounded by grass and watered inthree sections using a wrench at thefront of the building.

One hot, humid summer day, thewomen of the church decided to havea quilting bee on the east side of thechurch in the cool shade.

My father asked me to turn on thewater on the west side but, unknow-ingly, I turned on the water on the eastside, where the ladies were gathered.

All of a sudden, I heard screeching,wailing and terrible yells comingfrom the east side. The more I tried toturn the water off, the more I turned iton.

I heard my dad yelling to turn offthe water, and he finally came to myrescue.

When we went around the build-

Cross Your HeartAnd Hope It Works

THIS STORY is one ofmany from my grandmoth-er Virginia Mulder, wholived to be 92. It is writtenin her words.

“I wound up marrying afarmer myself. When thetime came to cultivate…myhusband, Bob…hooked upa team of horses to a ridingcultivator, and off I went.

“The problem was thatone of the horses used topull a milk wagon in De-troit and would occasion-ally balk. Sure enough, Ihad just gotten startedwhen the horse balked andwould not move.

“Knowing the horsemight respond if I coveredhis eyes, I fashioned a blind

out of my brassiere. Thestraps fit over his ears, andthe cups fell over his eyes.

“With the ‘blinder’ inplace, the team pulled…un-til the entire field wasworked.”—Lora Dougherty

New Providence,New Jersey

Mail TamperingFRANCES DITTMANNof Atascadero, Californiashares this poem sent to herby husband Ted, trying tokeep a sense of humorabout the WWII censorshipof letters home.

Three’s a CrowdNothing like a love affair

Exclusively for three;What it all comes

down to is

You, the Censor, Me.

My innermost emotions,All of them for you;How sweet of him

to share themAnd bring them

all to view.

This demands a policy,And here, in short,

is mine:No matter whois looking on

I’ll love you all the time.

At Ease, PleaseMY FATHER, then a re-cent immigrant to Canadafrom Great Britain, wasseated next to the conduc-tor in a Toronto, Ontariostreetcar in the 1920s.

According to my father,William Shaw, he was nottoo sure about where hewas going and a bit appre-hensive. All of a sudden,the conductor called out,“Shaw next!” referring toShaw Street.

My father, being the oldsoldier that he was, jumpedup and answered, “Yes,sir,” wondering how onEarth the conductor knewhis name.

This story has beenpassed around our familyfor ages and always gets alaugh. —Philip Shaw

Oakville, Ontario

Wedding HintsTIPS FOR “The AmericanWedding” were offered inThe Housewife’s Almanac,published by the KelloggCompany in 1938 andshared by Marilyn Casarot-to from Las Vegas, Nevada.

• If a marriage is per-formed by a magistrate, awedding dress is not con-sidered proper.

• It is just as much abreach of the rules of eti-quette for the bride to payanything toward the ex-pense of a wedding trip asit would be for the bride-groom to defray any of thecost of the bride’s trous-seau.

• Going-Away Clothes:A bride and bridegroomwho are endowed with or-dinary good taste like to beas inconspicuous as possi-ble…Under no circum-stances should the newly-weds dress so as to makepeople exclaim, “Just mar-ried!”

These remedies are shared for funand are not recommended for use.

JUNE/JULY 2007 REMINISCE 61

Manners Were on a HolidayIN JULY 1960, I used the city bus toget to and from my job and becamefriends with several folks who sharedthe same bus stop in Charleston, WestVirginia.

One morning, the crowded busstopped and another lady and I goton, grabbed a pole and continuedour conversation.

The driver didn’t continue on im-mediately, as though he had seensomeone else coming from down theblock.

After a few moments, he an-nounced, in a loud voice, “I’m notmoving this bus until the lady in thepink dress has a seat.”

Yes, it was I in the pink dress, 8months pregnant.

Of course, the men on the buslooked like popcorn, jumping up fromtheir seats.

—Jeanette McClung AlexanderCharleston, West Virginia

My MostEmbarrassing

Moment

ing, the women were still yelling andstanding on top of their chairs; theythought their quilt was ruined.

One dear lady, standing on herchair with her skirt over her head, wascrying, “Even my underpants arewet!”

I had a different job after that.—Margaret Sykes

American Fork, Utah

I have 16 grandchildren and a houseful of priceless keepsakes.


Departments that are quick reads...

MORE THAN A CENTURY AGO, anEnglishman noticed that his dog waspuzzled by the sounds emerging fromthe man’s newfangled gadget called aphonograph.

The little fox terrier, “Nipper” (op-posite page, far right), would sit by thehour listening to it. Eventually, theman’s brother, Francis Barraud,painted a picture of the fascinatedpooch. Before long, The Gramo-phone Company bought the rights touse the picture, known as His Mas-ter’s Voice, in its advertising. Nip-per’s first appearance in ads was in1900. A year later, the Victor Talk-ing Machine Company bought thetrademark, only to sell it to RCA,which acquired Victor in 1929.

About that same time, a com-ic strip appeared in the UnitedStates, featuring a kid namedBuster Brown and his mischie-vous dog, Tige (top of oppositepage). The folks at the BrownShoe Company in St. Louisknew a good thing when theysaw it and bought the franchiseto use Buster and Tige in the company’s

By 1953, NBCdecided to shakethings up witha new idea intelevision. Itinvolved am o r n i n gshow—the orig-inal version ofthe show Today—with easygoingDave Garroway as itsstar. For good measure, NBCadded a chimpanzee named “J.Fred Muggs.” The personablechimp was an instant hit with the show’saudience. Before long, it was a toss-upwhether Garroway or J. Fred was thestar of the show.

Ever alert to ideas that increased at-tention, advertisers soon moved in. Kel-logg’s Sugar Frosted Flakes adoptedTony the Tiger. He assured kids thatthe cereal “tastes gr-r-r-r-reat!”

Sales jumped.Well, one good tiger deserves an-

other, and eventually the Esso petrole-um company began urging us, “Put atiger in your tank!”

And speaking of felines, surely youremember “Morris,” the cat that wasused to promote 9Lives Cat Food. Hewas a true “aristocat” and soon wasknown as “the Clark Gable of Cats.” In-deed, in 1988 and 1992, he ran for Pres-ident, losing by a whisker to GeorgeH.W. Bush and then Bill Clinton.

Yes, the list of two- and four-footedhucksters for all sorts of products goeson and on. We’ve had the BudweiserClydesdales, the comical Hamm’s Beerbear, the Coca-Cola polar bears, thefluffy little Bon Ami cleanser chick(“Hasn’t Scratched Yet”) and, current-ly, the Aflac duck and the EnergizerBunny.

And now for today’s trivia question:What was the name of the Taco BellChihuahua? (The answer appears atthe end of this page.)

I’m sure you can remember the nameof your first animal pal. Mine was asplendid collie given to me by mygrandfather. Naming him was easy.Someone had given me a book by Al-bert Payson Terhune, a prolific author

of over 30 books, in-cluding Lad: A Dog. So

my pooch was immediate-ly given the

name “Laddy.”Over the

years since,there havebeen manytwo- and four-footed crittersin my life, in-cluding four

d a c h s h u n d s ,countless cats, a monkey, a para-keet and, briefly, a vagabond whitesnowy owl.

But Laddy has a special place in myheart, because he was my constant com-panion. Yes, that even includes the twoor three times I resolutely decided torun away from home. Laddy and Iwould usually make it to the end of thefarm, where I would sit down and ex-plain to him how unfair life could be fora 10-year-old. Then we’d share a sand-wich and trudge back home.

A major disappointment in my busi-ness career had to do with an ill-starredventure that was started by a friend ofmine. He decided to create an airlinethat solely served the smaller commu-nities in Wisconsin.

He planned to use a fleet of 10-pas-senger airplanes. And he wanted a namefor his company. We developed a car-toon kangaroo wearing goggles, whitescarf flowing back from his throat…justlike those World War I aces. Our pro-posed slogan for the company: “Kanga-roo Airline: Best for the Short Hops.”

Rats. As they say, it nevergot off the ground.

I know…I was there.P.S. The Taco Bell

Chihuahua wasnamed “Gidget.”

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� I Know...I WasThere �

By Clancy StrockContributing Editor

You’re barking upthe wrong tree.

“Yes, the list of two-

and four-footed

hucksters for all

sorts of products

goes on and on.”

Clancy’s columns on “lifeback when” appear in eachissue of Reminisce and Remi-nisce EXTRA.

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Adswithout

Animals?

APRIL/MAY 2007 REMINISCE 76 REMINISCE WWW. REMINISCE.COM

1944

ads for children’s shoes. Thus was themagic of animals in drawing attentionto ads again confirmed.

In the 1930s, Borden created a car-toon cow named Elsie (left) for its ads.Elsie was a comely lass of the Jerseybreed and an enormous hit in the Bor-den exhibit at the New York World’sFair in 1939. A year later, she “married”a Jersey lad named Elmer (later usedto promote Elmer’s glue).

When the happy union produced acalf, Borden asked the public to suggesta name for the newborn bull. More thana million entries flooded in. The win-ning name: “Beauregard.”

Forest fires in 1944 threatened an im-portant wartime national resource. TheU.S. Forest Service launched a postercampaign featuring a cartoon bear,complete with forest-ranger hat, urg-ing national park visitors to alwaysdouse their campfires. The bear, calledSmokey (below), pointed out, “Onlyyou can prevent forest fires.”

The original Smokey was named inhonor of a former New York City firedepartment officer. Then, a New Mexi-co forest fire nearly was the end of alovable little cub. Soon he, too, wasdubbed “Smokey” and became some-thing of a national icon.

...and Departments long on Memory

YOU JUST KNEW thatit was going to hap-pen—Hattie’s lost herheirloom hatpin onceagain, and it’s some-where in the pages of

this issue!If you’re newer to Reminisce and

haven’t yet met “Hattie,” you prob-ably don’t know about the HatpinContest. It’s a fun-filled search reg-ular readers look forward to everyissue.

Here’s a bit of background: Ourfriend Hattie is very active but abit old-fashioned. She doesn’t goanywhere without the properheadwear to match her outfit, andshe secures her hats with an heir-loom hatpin.

Hattie continually finds herselfrushing around and ends up losingher precious hatpin in the frenzy.This time, Hattie was so takenaback by a neighbor’s surprisesmooch under the mistletoe thather hat and hatpin flew off of herhead.

Now Hattie hopes you’ll help hersearch for her precious hatpin. Fornewcomers who’ve never foundone, the hatpin looks like this:

Remember…this is just a sample.The real one could be tucked any-where in this issue.

Contest Rules: When you’vefound the hatpin, send us a post-card saying, “I found the hatpinon page ___.” Then print your nameand address on the postcard andmail it to “Hatpin,” 5927 MemoryLane, Greendale WI 53129.

Include only your hatpin infor-mation on the postcard, because itgoes to a special contest depart-ment. Do not include subscriptionor change-of-address information,as it may not reach our customerservice crew.

You Can Enter on the Web!To enter the Hatpin Contest on theInternet, log on to our Web site,www.reminisce.com, click on theReminisce link for Hattie’s hatpinon the left side of the page, fill outthe entry form and click “Submit.”

The first entries received are notnecessarily the winners, so youneed not use express delivery. We’lltoss the entries into a giant hatboxand conduct the random drawingin December. The 50 subscriberswhose names are drawn who cor-rectly found the hatpin will win theprize described at right.

DDIIDD YYOOUU FFIINNDD IITT??Reiman Publications’ hilari-ous 2007 Calendar for Re-tirees is on its way to 50 win-ners who found Hattie’s hat-pin in the October/Novemberissue—along the fence poston the far right of the photoat the top of page 9.

To request a list of win-ners, send a self-addressedstamped envelope to “Hat-pin Winners,” 5927 MemoryLane, Greendale WI 53129, orview the list of winners on-line at www.reminisce.com.

Memories of a Former Kid©

Andy & Ann Artley (507) 645-7999

Can You Help Find Hattie’s Hatpin?

YYOOUU CCOOUULLDD WWIINN this issue’sprize by following the ContestRules at left. It’s our cheerfulSnowman Draft Stopper.

This happy snowman’s job is tosit on a windowsill or along thebottom of a door to help keepthe cold chill of winter awayfrom you. The machine-washablesnowman sports a top hat andscarf and has legs that extend39 inches.

If you can’t wait to see ifyou’ve won our Snowman DraftStopper, you can order it fromCountry Store by calling, toll-free, 1-800/558-1013. Ask foritem 34005 and be sure to men-tion Suite 8700S.

The price is only $12.99 forone snowman, plus $4.99 ship-ping for one, or $5.50 for two ormore snowmen.

DECEMBER/JANUARY 2007 REMINISCE 55

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Contests: Find Hattie’s Hatpin

Headers

1925

The door burst open, and incame Santa Claus, stompingsnow from his boots. We scoot-ed closer to our mothers.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa shouted.“Have you been good childrenthis year?”

When we nodded shyly, hehanded out bags of candy andnuts.

Then Santa went over to theChristmas tree, where candlessoftly fluttered, and began tak-ing gifts out of his pack.

Santa Got theBiggest Surprise

Partly blinded by his beardand clothing, Santa got tooclose to a flaming candle andhis white beard caught fire!

Quickly, my dad and two un-cles jumped on Santa to pull offhis beard. In the excitement andscuffle, someone bumped theChristmas tree, knocking overcandles. Now the tree was blaz-ing, as well as Santa’s beard.

Grandma dashed into thekitchen, grabbed the pail ofdrinking water, returned anddoused Santa and my dad.Grandpa dragged the burningtree out a side door into thesnow.

To my amazement, Santaturned out to be another one ofmy uncles. In the midst oflaughter from the grown-ups, abeardless and wet Santa handedout presents.

I got a pair of high-top lace-up boots with a pocket on theside for a Barlow knife, and awindup tractor with a tin-mandriver—just the right gifts fora 6-year-old boy.

After saying “Thank you”for our gifts and playing awhile, my cousins, my sisterand I were ushered upstairs tobed. We all slept in one bigfeather bed, lying crosswisewith chairs added at the foot of

the bed to make more room. Noone got cold.

In the morning, Grandpa toldus to stay in bed until he rekin-dled the fires in the heatingstove and kitchen range. Wesnuggled down and talked ofthings we received for Christ-mas. Soon, Mother called us tobreakfast.

We hurried downstairs and,one by one, made a fast trip tothe outdoor toilet and back. Af-ter washing our faces and handsin the tin wash pan, we tackledthe delicious pancakes thatGrandma was flipping on aniron griddle on the Home Com-fort range.

For the rest of the morning,we played and listened to sto-ries the men told about hard-ships of homesteading on theprairie.

Before long, we sat aroundthe stretched-out table, gorgingourselves on turkey and dress-ing, mashed potatoes withfreshly churned butter, bakedham and all the trimmings.

Too soon, Dad said we need-ed to start home if we didn’twant to do our chores in thedark.

Many years later, we stilllaugh when we remember theholiday when Santa’s beardcaught fire.

That was the last year therewere lighted candles on Christ-mas trees at our grandparents’house.

“THIS CHRISTMAS POEM was re-cited by my 4-year-old sister, AltheaBarrett, at our church Christmas pro-gram, in Lima, New York, in 1926,”writes Elizabeth Barrett Ballou ofNew Port Richey, Florida.

“I was about 4 years older than shewas, but learned it right along withher and have never forgotten it.”

Santa’s CakeI saved my cake for Santa ClausOne Christmas Eve at tea.’Cause if riding makes one hungry, How hungry he must be!I put it on the chimney shelf Where he’d be sure to go.It surely makes a person proud To be remembered so.When everyone was fast asleep, Everyone but me,I tiptoed down the stairs, Oh, just as still, to seeIf he had been here yet—Dear me! It made my feelings ache!There sat a miserable little mouse Eating Santa’s cake!

—Author Unknown

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By Ralph Fletcher as told to his wife, Marie Fletcher, Leoti, Kansas

Ch

eryl

Mic

hal

ek

My Favorite

Old-Time Poem

Santaand the

ChristmasCandles

I heard the snow crunch un-der the wagon wheels as ourhorses labored along. Tucked inon quilts and straw, surroundedby a mouth-watering aroma ofbaked turkey and sugar-curedham, we daydreamed of theChristmas feast to come.

Our three cousins and theirparents, who lived halfway toour grandparents’ home, joinedus as we came by and pulledtheir wagon in behind ours.

All the Folks at HomeWe arrived about sundown,

and Grandpa and Grandmagreeted us with warm hugs. Thetempting fragrance of fresh-baked bread and spicy pumpkinpie floated from the big, toastykitchen of their two-story nativestone house.

Everyone carried food andpresents from the wagons. Weput the presents under Grand-pa’s homemade Christmas treein the living room.

He had drilled holes in acedar fence post and fittedsmall, dry branches in the holesto make the tree. He wrappedthe entire tree in white cotton,draped long strings of popcornand red cranberries over it, thenfastened a candle to the end ofeach branch.

After a quick supper of sand-wiches and milk, we gathered inthe living room and Grandpalit the candles on the tree. Twogas lamps, with mantles bright-ly glowing, hung from hooksin the ceiling. My dad openedthe door of the potbellied heat-ing stove and poked up the fire.

Grandpa offered a Christmasprayer before we joined ouraunt at the piano to sing somesongs. In the pause betweencarols, we heard a loud knock-ing on the front door.

Grandpa looked at us andsaid, “Now, I wonder who thatcould possibly be.”

THE temperature stood at zero,with 14 inches of snow on thewestern Kansas prairie.

My 11-year-old sister, Grace,and I helped prepare the wagonfor the 4-mile trip to our grand-parents’ farm. On this frigidChristmas Eve, we knew ourModel T Ford had no chance ofgetting us through to Grandpaand Grandma White’s house.

Dad put the extra 12-inchsideboards on the wagon so wewould have room to sit uprightin the back. We fastened a can-vas cover over the top of thewagon and hung a lantern on abar inside to help keep us warm.Dad covered the floor of thewagon with straw over whichMother placed thick quilts.

Once the food and presentswere loaded, Grace and I scram-bled inside under the canvas.Mother climbed in with us, andDad sat bundled up outside onthe spring seat to drive the team.

THE FLETCHERS, Ralph and Ma-rie, are still close to an area calledSunnyside, where Ralph grew up.

DECEMBER/JANUARY 2007 REMINISCE 33

Illustrations

troit, Mackinac Island, Chicago and

the Soo Canal at Sault Ste. Marie. The

latter stop was quite an experience be-

cause Canada, as part of the British

Empire, was already involved in

WWII. Barrage balloons hovered

over the area, and Royal Canadian

Mounted Police patrolled it.One Mountie stopped me and ex-

plained that I had to return my camera

to my cabin, or he’d have to confiscate

it. Later that day, as our ship was

pulling away from the dock, I called to

the same Mountie from the rail. As

he looked up, I snapped his picture.

He just laughed and waved us on.On the drive back to Erie, my wife

and I discussed the wonderful time

we had and planned on saving mon-

ey to take the trip again in 3 or 4

years. These plans were shelved be-

cause of Pearl Harbor.The United States Navy requisi-

tioned the Seeandbee and her sister

ship, Greater Detroit, for conversion

to aircraft carriers for practice take-

offs and landings. The Seeandbee was the first to be

taken to Buffalo, where all the upper

works were torn off so that just the

hull and propulsion engines re-

mained. Next, a 550-foot flight deck

was built atop the ship, and the “is-

land” and side stacks were added.Within 5 months, the Seeandbee,

now the Wolverine, was back on Lake

Michigan, serving her military pur-

pose 24 hours a day. She was with-

drawn from service on V-J Day and,

in 1948, was sold to ship-breakers in

Hamilton, Ontario.The ship suffered a final humilia-

tion when her paddle wheels were cut

off so that she could get through the

Welland Canal. If I didn’t have the

pictures, I’d have a tough time prov-

ing that we had paddle-wheel aircraft carriersduring WWII!

DEEP DOWN, all of uswould like to changesomething in our ap-pearances to make usmore attractive.That’s just what Ithought in 1939, when Iwas in fifth grade at 12thStreet School in Milwau-

kee, Wisconsin. One boyin class had wavy brownhair, and our teachers andall of the girls admired it. He wasthe envy of us boys.I’d seen my grandmother curl

her hair with a curling iron, and itlooked easy. She’d put the iron onthe stove, dampen her hair andcurl it with the iron.It so happened that Grandma

asked Grandpa to take her shop-ping. The minute they left, I gotthat curling iron and heated it onthe stove as I combed a hugewave in my damp hair.When it looked just right, I

grabbed the iron and clamped iton the top of my head. In an instant, the iron seared

the top of my head, and my beau-tiful large wave fell into the sink!

The bathroom had a strongodor of burned hair and flesh, andthe pain was excruciating.When Grandma returned

home, all I could do was confessmy transgression. She was lovingas always and tried to dress theburn, but it was an impossibletask.

She had Grandpa

take me to the barbershopand the barber shaved offat least a 2- by 2-inchsection of hair aroundthe burn on the top ofmy head.I looked like a monk.All I wanted to do

was die, but I knew I hadto go to school the nextday. The only thing on thetop of my bald head was a

large bandage.Being ashamed, humiliatedand in pain was a high price topay for my vanity.Today, whenever I hear about

makeovers that go horribly wrong,I can only reply, “Been there,done that.”

By William Maher HowellErie, Pennsylvania

THE SEEANDBEE is pictured at left in

its heyday as a passenger ship and as a

WWII aircraft carrier for pilot training.

My Most Embarrassing MomentInterest in Wavy HairBecame a Burning Desire

By Tom Wendt, St. Petersburg, Florida

MARCH 2007

27

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Illustration by Cheryl Michalek

Author, in wiser years.

Illustrations

IT WAS THE 1940s, and for a nickel, we

could buy moments of fantasy with the Hu-

man Torch or Captain America. We could

soar over Metropolis with our puff-chested

hero Superman, aka mild-mannered reporter

Clark Kent.

Of course, I did have fleeting doubts

about Superman when he started paying at-

tention to Lois Lane. I was only 9 years old

and didn’t go for that girl-boy stuff.

My 10th birthday provided me with the

usual presents until my mother’s presentation

of my last gift. My two older sisters had that

look that said Mom was spoiling me again.

My mother, a skilled seamstress, had

made me a complete Superman outfit that

would have made George Reeves proud. The

blue and red shades were just right, and the

S was attached neatly, although it turned

out that it was over my stomach more than

it was over my chest.

For the next few days, I was walking on

air. Fully clad in my Superman outfit, I was

convinced that I was reaching heights pre-

viously unthinkable as I leaped over obsta-

cles and flew off banks of grass.

After a while, my mom stopped running

out to see my latest flight; I had been beck-

oning her each time I performed some new

aerial wonder.

On Mom’s last trip out to see me, she re-

marked that with my cape billowing out be-

hind me, she could almost believe I could fly.

That tied right in with what I had been think-

ing all along but was too afraid to believe—

I could fly!

I was ready to put my faith on the line, and

I thought the 10-foot drop from the roof of

our porch would give me time to adjust to the

intricacies of flying.

A voice of reason within me urged some

degree of caution, as I had memories of

falling off bicycles and out of trees. In Dad’s

scrap pile, I found two rusty coil springs

from a Buick. They could be attached to

By Bud Hammond, Milford, New York

boards that, in turn, could be attached to the

bottoms of my feet.

After several days of hard labor, I had

my “safety shoes” up on the roof. Wearing

my Superman outfit, I attached my special

footwear and yelled down at the family to

come see what miracles are made of.

I was back from the edge of the roof so

that my mother and sisters could not see the

springs. One of my sisters yelled up at me,

“Why do you look so tall?”

As soon as I saw the look on my moth-

er’s face below me, I knew I had chosen

wisely to do this while Dad was at work.

In her most authoritative tone, my moth-

er said, “Come down here this instant!”

With a few Frankenstein-style steps,

thanks to the weight on my feet, I made it to

the edge of the roof. I took a deep breath and

gazed down at my Earth-bound family.

I don’t remember being airborne. I hadn’t

really jumped but, rather, stumbled off

the edge of the roof. Before I could

think about being in space, I was

lying in the flower bed surround-

ing the porch. Nearby were my

safety shoes, half buried in the

soft soil, with the broken bind-

ings still around my legs. My ankles

were throbbing.

I waited for the scolding from my

mother, but she hugged me and said

that I was lucky I hadn’t broken any

bones. Even my sisters didn’t tease

me, and even though I didn’t think

Superman would approve, I cried.

I made that brave attempt 62

years ago. I think back to those mo-

ments before my disastrous take-

off and recall how free and full of

hope I was for my dream.

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Flight plan had some kinks to work out.

Illustration by Cheryl Michalek

ALTER EGO.

Mild-mannered

author in 1945.

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