It was almost eleven, and from the sound of it, the parade would be starting soon. They could hear the band already gathered in the parking lot, warming up their instruments. The quiet little toots and trills of the trumpets and trombones, the soft rattle of the drums.
Soon they heard the sirens and horns blowing, and they knew the Shriners had arrived in their clown cars. A few minutes later, a loud whistle from the band major, and they were off with a rousing rendition of “Stars and Stripes Forever.” All during the parade, they heard people talking on megaphones, shouting orders, and the crowd cheering as the flag went by, applauding the floats that followed. They heard the familiar sound of Dixie Cahill’s troupe of tap dancers, the Tappettes, doing their routine down the street.
Everybody enjoyed hearing the music, except Birdie Swensen, who had been the church organist and had perfect pitch. She whispered to her husband, “Dear God, how an entire band can play flat is beyond me. John Philip Sousa must be rolling over in his grave.”
But, thankfully, most people down in town were too excited to notice and were having a fine time as the Tappettes danced by. What a sight! Twenty-four girls in short bright blue sequined outfits and white boots with tassels were tapping and twirling batons down the street. It was enough to stop a young boy’s heart, and throw a flutter in some of the old men’s hearts as well.
Dixie Cahill was marching alongside her girls, keeping an eye out, making sure their line was straight. Glenn Warren, who owned the hardware store, was driving the tractor pulling the Washington Crossing the Delaware float, and his son, Macky, one of the volunteers, was not far behind him, carrying a shovel and a pail, cleaning up after the animals in the parade, which included two goats, four miniature ponies, and all the 4-H Club cows and pigs and sheep, each wearing a big red, white, and blue ribbon.
The Lions Club, the Rotary, the Optimists, and the Chamber of Commerce all had floats this year. The largest was the huge two-hundred-foot chamber float with Hazel Goodnight dressed as Betsy Ross, sitting in a chair, sewing the flag on one end, Uncle Sam in the middle, and Ida Jenkins as the Statue of Liberty on the other end. Two dressed-up dogs riding in decorated baby carriages followed.
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AFTER THE PARADE WAS OVER, everyone went over to the big picnic ground out by the grammar school, and up at Still Meadows they could hear all the noise and fun going on, children laughing and chasing each other, and the crack of the bat at the Fourth of July baseball game. But the best was yet to come. Later, when it got dark, the sky lit up with huge bursts of bright pink, white, red, and green explosions of light that cascaded down to the ground in long streamers, then faded. Then more explosions: a golden one, a purple and gold one, a silver one, each burst bigger and louder than the one before.
Then came the grand finale. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Then one great big boom as the sky lit up with ten bursts shot off all at once. And when they all faded, one last giant fireworks display of the American flag. Wow!
When it was finally over, it was late, and everyone on the hill was tired and happy, including the people who had come out to the cemetery and put down blankets to watch the fireworks from up there.
It really was the very best place to see them. Macky Warren and Norma were one of the couples up on the hill that night. But Macky had more than fireworks on his mind, and he had been planning it for weeks. Right before the big finale, he pulled something out of his pocket, then turned to Norma. “Will you marry me?” he asked. He couldn’t hear her answer because of the noise of the fireworks, but he could see the look on her face, and it was a definite “Yes!”
1950 was a happy time in Elmwood Springs. Glenn Warren’s hardware store now carried Motorola and Sylvania television sets, and almost everyone in town had one. All the kids loved Howdy Doody and Buffalo Bob. Merle Wheeler was hooked on watching wrestling with Gorgeous George, and his wife, Verbena, was hooked on Liberace. And everybody loved watching Uncle Miltie. Tot Whooten said, “There’s nothing funnier than a man dressing up like a woman.”
Cereal was the breakfast of choice for most American kids. If you didn’t eat your Wheaties, you wouldn’t grow up and be a famous baseball or football star. Ice cream was the dessert they all screamed for. And both cereal and ice cream required milk, milk, and more milk. Which was good news for the local dairy business.
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ANDER AND BEATRICE SWENSEN were still so overjoyed with their little girl, Hanna Marie, and they wanted to do something nice for the town. And so Ander brought in a professional landscape architect and had a lovely city park designed and built with a little lake in the middle, sidewalks, benches, a fountain, and streetlights. He named it Lordor Nordstrom Memorial Park, in memory of his friend and mentor.
The Elmwood Springs Ladies’ Bowling Team finished first in their league to become county champions. Over at the picture show, marquees boasted about its brand-new air-conditioning, and on hot, muggy summer days, kids and grown-ups alike spent hours sitting inside the ice-cold theater. It was so cold you could see your breath, and the candy girl in the lobby had to wear gloves and a scarf. One mother complained that her son had come home after a day at the movies, and his lips were still blue.
But that summer, lots of hot-buttered popcorn and hundreds of boxes of Sugar Babies, Raisinets, Goobers, Good & Plenty candy, and Junior Mints were sold, due to the sudden increase in attendance.
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ALTHOUGH HER PARENTS WORRIED about her, little Hanna Marie didn’t seem to realize yet that she was different and unable to talk. But she was friendly with everyone. She would walk around town with her mother and visit people up and down the street. She was like the town pet, and everybody loved Hanna Marie. All they had to do was hold out their arms and she would run up and give them a big hug. All the merchants in town would give her a candy bar or, in Gerta Nordstrom’s case, pastries. They loved to see her smile. But this soon became a problem, and Beatrice had to ask them to please not give her any more sweet things to eat. She said to Gerta, “As it is, with all the ice cream Ander brings her, she won’t have a tooth left by the time she’s twelve.”
1951
There were now four churches in town, and on Sunday mornings, it was so wonderful up at Still Meadows to hear all the different bells ringing all at once. But other than the church bells and the occasional lawn mower, it was mostly quiet and peaceful up on the hill.
However, down in town, on the afternoon of August 12, that was not the case over at Tot Whooten’s house on First Avenue North.
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