Thats right. You know when you start thinking about "then", your mind comes up with so many things you haven't thought about for years. Like when we came to California in 1935 it was such fun to walk up town to the big open air market on the corner of Pacific Blvd and Randolph Street. The train tracks crossed the "J" car tracks there. A hub of activity I can tell you. We would shop on Friday Night when Dad got paid. One of the fun things was for me to get a big bag and fill it with "pennie" oranges. You know I haven't thought about that for such a long time, and the reason I wanted to tell you about it is because that was "pre concentrate". Thats right. back then, if you wanted orange juice, you had to squeeze it yourself. These "little pennie" oranges were known as "juice oranges". They were a bit smaller than a tennis ball and had a very thin skin, and full of juice.
When we got them home, we would get the juicer down and the fun would begin. One of the kids would cut the oranges in half while another would put the cut half over a cone shaped juicer and press down hard and twist. The juice would run out into the bottom of the juicer and then poured into a pitcher. Of course you had to pick out all those pesky seeds as we went along. I remember when we got the pressure squeezer. It had a removeable squeezer head with holes in the bottom. You placed a glass under the squeezer and put the top down and pressed the lever hard and out came the juice. With this new method, the seeds were caught and could be scooped out after each squeezing. Ah! modern contraptions. We had that squeezer for years. I think it was outdated, but we seemed to hang onto it. When Mom got her Electric mixer, it came with an attachment that would juice the oranges quicker. Had more parts, and was easier to keep clean.
I guess today all those "pennie oranges" are hustled off to the combine to be squeezed into juice and then reduced to concentrate then quick frozen. Time marches on and so do the things we had fun doing, and the juice that couldn't be beat. Nothing like a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I doubt many of us have the chance to enjoy such a treat today.
Then there were the times we would load up in the car, which wasn't all that often, and drive down to Long Beach and spend the evening on the "Pike". That was where the "Cyclone Racer"
was. My Grand Dad just loved that thing. Would ride it every chance he got. The Pike was such a fun place. Like a carnival, with all kinds of games and side shows, etc. It was open everyday and ran the length of the beach. If you wanted to spend the day at the beach, you didn't have far to walk to enjoy the "Pike". Lots of places to eat as well. I don't think the folks took us to eat, I believe Mom thought the places looked pretty unhealthy. Now that I think back, she was right. But the place always smelled of seaweed and salt water. There was always at least one Ballroom somewhere close for dancing on Friday and Saturday nights. Of course during the War Years the place was full of service men with the local girls taking a turn around the Pike to meet new people and enjoy their friends. That was when the Big Bands were in town and going to one of the dances was an absolute must. Not that you could do much dancing. The floor was always crowded with far too many people to do much moving around, but who cared, the music was great. How I loved to stand by the bandstand and just listen. Of course I never turned down a dance if I was asked!
When I was about 10 or 12 Dad came home one evening and said he would take us all out for a treat after dinner. Of course those were special evenings for the family. I am not sure Mom always knew what Dad had planned for us. On most occasions we would have to drive, which was always a treat. This one night, we headed in a direction I had never gone before, and the drive was quite a ways away from the house. When we stopped, it was at a very small business, in what we call a strip mall now a days. When we stepped out of the car, the aroma was just out of this world. Dad had discovered the Carmel Corn Haven. What a treat. We went into the small shop, and nearly fainted it smelled so good. Dad bought a big bag of Carmel Corn and we all got back into the car and drove back home. It was really too far a distance to drive just for a bag of Carmel Corn, but Dad was always one for finding such special places and then taking the family to enjoy something "special".
On another such occasion we drove over to Maywood, the small town along side Huntington Park. We parked and got out by an Ice Cream Parlor. When we went in Dad said we could all have a New Zealand Malt. What ever that was. We checked out the flavors and of course I had to have carmel. Talk about "special". They had iced sundae glasses. The gal put one big scoop of vanilla ice cream in the bottom, then poured in carmel and then marshmello cream, another scoop of vanilla ice cream and topped it off with carmel, more marshmello cream with whipped cream nuts and of course a cherry on the top. To die for. I never knew how Dad found out about these places, nor how long he had to save his money to afford to treat us so well, but he was one for the "special" when it came to the "kids".
In the early years of our marriage, Jay had a favorite place to go for ice cream, and I know you have never heard of this, but it was Thee place to go to, back then. Curries Ice Cream. Or as their slogan went: "Mile High Ice Cream Cones". The cones were all waffle sugar cones. Hand made and nested together in a glass case. Now the "Mile High" came because the scoops were the same shape as the cone. It took some doing to learn how to scoop that way, but what a sight.
My favorite was pastacio nut. You could only get one scoop that was all the cone could hold. Great stuff. The store we went to was way down in Belmont Shores along the Pacific Coast High Way. Worth the drive, and the price too I might add.
In around the 50's we were going to Utah a lot for vacation and that was where we were introduced to "Spudnuts". Oh, you think Crispy Creme are donuts, you would toss them to the wind for a "Sputnut". They were so light, you could swear they would float away. Made with Potato flour and so tasty, just thinking about them now makes my mouth water. They were around for a long time, some shops even showed up in California, but they seemed to fold and disappear never to be seen or heard of again. What a loss.
I am not sure I have ever told you about my Grand Dad, Charles Smith. Well maybe a line or two, but I got to thinking about him, and how much he would enjoy knowing all of you. He was rather a small man. Very slight build about 5'7" or so. He wore horned rimmed glasses and stuttered. How I loved that dear old man. He use to pick me up on Sunday Mornings and take me to Church with him. He was a devout Episcopalian. (Church of England). He had a beautiful Tenor Voice and sang in the Church Choir. He also sang on the radio for a few years. I don't think you would have picked him out of a crowd, just an ordinary little man, but his heart was as big as all the out of doors. He was a potter by trade and was good at what he did. The clay dust had filled his lungs and caused him to develope silicosus. He took pnemonia and passed away on my 8th birthday. I have always felt how fortunate you were to have Grand Parents around most of your lives. I lost all mine before I was 9 years old. In fact the only one I really knew well was "Charlie". Even that was for too short a time.
Dad brought us to California in his Model "A" two door Ford Sedan. It served the family well, but one day he traded it for a four door Chevrolet that had a pull down bar in the back seat. Oh, and two vases by the back windows where you could have a flower or two. I don't believe we ever put any flowers in those vases, but my, that was a classey car. I think he thought having four doors would be much more comfortable for the family. I don't recall us ever taking a trip in that car. I guess it was because the War came along and with gas rationing and all, it wasn't really practical to travel. But it was a classy car. You know I think we all thought it must have belonged to a ganster or something. Back then even Used Car Lots were unique. There weren't very many. In fact there weren't all that many cars period. When the War started, that brought an end to new cars almost altogether. I don't think Dad ever had a New Car until after all of us kids were married. In fact, I don't know if he ever bought a New Car at all. He wasn't all that sold on the idea of paying the price and then have it depreciate so quickly. His frugal ways were always pretty close to the surface. With him and Mom it was always pretty much: fix it up, and wear it out. When it came to Mom there was never enough, or good enough. He would shop and shop to find just what was right, then save until he could pay for it. I guess the lean years made it pretty hard to get past that kind of living. It served them well.
There are probably a number of other things, if I come across any other, gone and lost forevers, I will drop around again. Fun for me to remember, and hopefully nice for you to know a little bit about what has come and gone in my lifetime. It happens, and if we don't take notes as we go along, most of the tid bits of life get away. It is nice to remember the good things. Life has a way of dealing a number of the not so nice things, that are hard to shake. I am greatful to have this sharing time. Hope you have "enjoyed the ride"!
Written this 21st day of August 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
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