COPYRIGHT: Michael Coatesworth.

Last revised: September 21, 2006

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Time for a Cuppa!

The Magazine

For all the Family

A trip down memory lane

I thought I would start off this new page with a memory of my own

When I was a child, we lived in a two-bedroom property with no bathroom and no running hot water. So when we had a wash, it was either use cold water from the single tap above the earthenware sink in the kitchen, or wait until our aunt boiled a kettle and added a drop of hot water.

On bath night, which was usually on a Saturday night so we would be nice and clean for church the next morning, consisted of having a good scrub down in a large metal tub in front of the warm range fire in the living room. We always had to be careful not to splash any water onto the fire, as it would be ages before it could be lit again, and this meant having a bath in a cold room, especially if anyone came in from the street, as the front door opened directly from the living room. A small threadbare carpet just wider than the bath was placed just at the side, this gave us something other that the wooden floorboards to stand on when we got out of the bath. There were five children and two adults, and we used to take it in turns from the youngest upwards.

I'm the one sat on Jean's knee

with Eddie on my left and Alan on my right

It was an arduous task by my aunt, and she usually half filled the bath from buckets of cold water, then took boiling water from the huge kettle that was being kept hot on the range. The water was usually lasted for two people depending how dirty the water got, and was then changed, which usually meant that the youngest and the third child received the clean water.

The boys were given their baths with no privacy at all, as they would usually line up and wait for the first one to get a quick bath, then it was the turn of the next. But our sister had a small curtain hung around the clotheshorse, usually a bed sheet, and no one was allowed in the room except for our aunt.

On one special day, my birthday, a party had been arranged for me, which I looked forward to excitedly as it meant presents and playing family games and receiving fresh apples. Also as a treat, I was allowed to have the bath first so that I had the clean water. The rest of my brothers were upstairs, and I took advantage of this by taking my time in the bath and washed myself thoroughly with the carbolic soap. My aunt came over and scrubbed my back, and then informed me to be quick, as the water was getting cold, and then she went into the kitchen to finish preparing the food for the party.

I had soap in my eyes and I reached out for the towel, but couldn't find it. I stood up and as I did so, I felt an icy cold blast of wind as someone opened the front door. There were a few girlish giggles and I realised that something was wrong and I was no longer alone. I bent over and reached down for the small carpet that I knew was at the side of the bath and quickly picked it up to cover myself. By now my eyes were stinging with the soap, so I raised the carpet and rubbed my eyes, which brought about more laughter from whoever was in the room. I managed to open my eyes in time to see my neighbour's children, three girls and a boy, being quickly ushered into the kitchen by their mother who was finding it hard to contain her own laughter. This was nothing unusual as the neighbours were always popping in and out without knocking. For a while I stood there embarrassed, waiting to see if it was all clear and I heard my aunt and the neighbour talking and laughing in the kitchen.

I decided that no one was coming and stepped out of the bath complete with the small carpet covering me and a large splinter from the now bare floorboards went into my foot. I screamed out in pain and dropped the carpet as I made an automatic grab for my pain racked foot and at the same time there was a rush of bodies from the kitchen as well as from the upstairs bedroom to see was the screaming was all about. When everyone saw me, the laughter was ringing in my ears. I was now clearly embarrassed and tried to ignore the pain and made a grab for the towel that I had just spotted, and as I did so, I placed my sore foot on the floor and once again the pain shot up my leg. I fell backwards and my bum landed on the edge of the bath and caused it to tip up and the warm soapy water splashed everywhere.

The tears were now flowing down my cheeks, as I knew that I was in a situation that I could no longer control. My aunt came quickly across and placed the now wet towel around me. The neighbour got another towel and began drying my foot and then removed the large splinter and placed a makeshift bandage on it. I was taken upstairs and I got ready for the party while the others cleaned the mess below. My aunt placed her arm around my shoulder and then kissed me on the forehead. 'Here you are lad,' she said as she gave me a tiny package wrapped up in tissue paper. 'Happy birthday.'

I quickly removed the tissue paper and found two silver threepenny bits. I was delighted as it meant that I could now afford to go to the matinee the next day and see the latest "Roy Rogers" film at the local cinema. On top of this I had enough to get an ice cream as well. The next day before I left, I had decided not to get the ice cream, I decided to treat my brother Roy instead and took him with me to the pictures.

Mike Coatesworth

****

Bette Compton

Memory 1:

It was a sticky, hot, humid day, with a few grey and white billowy rolling clouds off in the distance.

I sweetly asked Momma to take me to one of my favourite places, Voshel's pond. The first area you came to; was by the Old Mill, which had a path leading along a small stream to the pond. The pond was contained behind a small dam. The older kids took this route, to their preferred place to swim

We drove our old chevie a little farther south of the mill to a grove of trees, Momma parked, got out her folded chair ready to join other Mom's to chat. I jumped out, in my red bathing suit, and made a dash for my favourite spot between two tall trees at waters edge, with a narrow path leading into the water. I was around 9, still did not know how to swim. I had to step in carefully; just to the right was a submerged stump. To the left, a nice wading area for a few feet, then water lilies took over. I could walk out up to my neck, or if it was not occupied, sit on the stump to cool off.

Adventurous swimmers would go out a lot farther.

I got the stump and was enjoying sitting there watching boaters, noise of the older crowd, having a lot of fun, drifted my way. The water rippled a bit causing little splashes around my neck. I was daydreaming, swirling water about when Suddenly clouds covered the sun. The boaters headed for shore rowing at top speed.

Everyone started yelling for us to get out of the water as an electrical storm was fast approaching. We ran for our car and Momma headed for home about 3 miles away. The storm broke violently just as we drove into our yard and ran into the house. We heard a huge crash accompanying a fierce bolt of lightening. We all ducked for cover. Soon we heard voices outside, went to the back door to see what had happened. Lightening had struck five trees in a row, splitting them, and had topped the sixth. Astonishing! I was shivering in my damp bathing suit, from fear, mostly. The whole neighbourhood was out surveying the damage. Luckily no one was hurt, nor were homes damaged. I'd call that a summer day to remember.

Bette Compton

*****

Second trip down memory lane:

My family owned a small store, gas station and tourist camp. 7 Cottages, some had names, some had numbers. Two joined with doors that could be closed, and each unit rented out separately. That was Toots and Casper. May West was in the middle of the 5. The rest were numbered. We also had spaces for trailer hook ups. I helped by running errands for newcomers, getting extras they needed, etc. Any tips I made became my spending money. One late summer evening 3 cars filled with folks, stopped. Each car had a small trailer.

Inside were dogs.

As soon as the cars stopped the dogs began barking hoping for release. May west and Toots and Casper were vacant so we helped the folks settle in. The dogs were then set free. 6 beautiful " greyhounds" on their way to a racing event two States south of us. I helped feed and water them. My reward? A lot of sleek sloppy kisses. The dogs were then exercised and I got to help. They were beautiful well-behaved talented animals. How I hated to see them leave the next morning.

Within a few nights another event brought happiness to all who shared it. Our State has orchards and farmland. As seasons and crops changed migrant workers came up from the South to work the fields. One late afternoon a car pulled up out front. Inside was a family of four. Very shabbily dressed, lean and gaunt, much in need of baths. The parents and two young children were tired, hungry and needed a place to sleep for the night. Our cottages were full, but they asked if they could sleep on the ground under the trees. We had a large garage and extra cots, so we set up a makeshift sleeping area for them. The little girl took a shine to me and followed my every step. They had no spare clothes, or money. My Momma observing their plight began calling people who had children of similar ages and friends who'd be willing to help.

Soon cars began to arrive bringing clothes and food. They were excited over the new clothing, but reluctant to change without washing. I asked if the children could come into our house to bathe in the tub. Everyone got into the act. I'd help scrub one clean, the child would then be handed into a big waiting towel manned by one of the volunteers, then handed on to get dressed. Someone else waited at the end of the line to comb his or her hair.

We all were laughing and the children were full of giggles. New toothbrushes were found and doled out. They sparkled from head to toe and were adorable. The parents wept at the sight of them. We asked if they would like the privacy of the bathroom for themselves, they happily accepted. I gave each child 10 cents and into the store they ran for candies. As they left in the morning they all had bathed, had new clothes, full tummies and were smiling from ear to ear. So were we.

Bette Compton

*****

It was in the summer of 1966 or 1967, but I really think it was 1966. I spent the summer working at a Christian Conference Centre on Lake George in New York State. It is breathtaking there for it is in the Adirondack Mountain range. Anyhow I had been asked to baby-sit one evening, which for the extra money was of course a pleasure. But not on this night. A young lady who was also working at the centre was a personal friend of Jim Morrison who was the lead singer of the rock group The Doors and their big hit of "Light My Fire" was burning up the charts. They had rented one of the islands in Lake George as sort of a place where they could hide and rest. She spoke with Jim and they agreed to come play for FREE that evening although it was not to be published so that it would be a small affair. I think you are probably laughing to yourself for you know where I was that night. Right. Babysitting. But it turned out quite well and very enjoyable because I sat on the front porch and listened to all of their music come up and bounce off the mountain sides. It was lovely. Memorable, too.

The other was a marvellous moment in time. At least for me. I always loved Richard and Pat Nixon and their children, and worked very hard at getting him elected. One weekend he was making personal appearances in Cleveland, Ohio so I and other Republican workers went by bus to see Pat and Richard. We had found a spot where the motorcade was supposed to slow and they would stand up in the car so that they could see and be seen. They did and I could see into the car and they were barefoot and standing on the back seat so that they would be tall enough to stick head and shoulders out of the roof of the car.

I wanted to shake Pats' hand so I stepped up on the running board and reached over to grab her hand and then took his. Just then the secret service yelled go and the car started off and I had to jump off which I did but I forgot to let go of Richards' hand and almost pulled him out of the car through the moon roof. The secret service made a lunge and broke the handshake but I remember it like it was yesterday. One reason why I loved Pat so was that she and my Mother could have been twin sisters. In fact many people called my Mom Pat quite a few times while they were in the White House. I wished I had taken a picture of Mom to show Pat but I had no idea I would have ever been so close to two people I loved and adored.

Well my friends I will bid you leave, but not before I recommend a movie to go to see. It is called "Sunshine" and although VERY long it was excellent and one of those movies that you don't want to end.

Gordon W. Mayne

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Walk down memory lane? I have memories of my first love, Steve, and walking barefoot at the beach on Halloween, memories of how Vietnam effected me and the pain that war brings, and so forth, and the struggles life brings being a single parent and feeling so alone in life.

I could remember waking up at 5 a.m., running to my mother's room and say, "Santa came, Santa came." Excitedly I would pull my mother's hand so she could see all the gifts Santa brought me as I opened each one. Next thing you know I'm standing in front of the tree: Annie Oakley with her cowgirl hand, long blonde curly hair, wearing a cowgirl outfit and ready to drawn my toy gun out of the holster. These were the days when the black & white televised show, The Lone Ranger, was very popular, those were the days my friend, I thought they'd never end.

Cheers: Linda Anderson

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Here's a true story for your Memory Lane page:

When Yale University decided that my husband, an astronomer, was to be sent to Argentina to work on a special observing program, they wanted me to live in the City of San Juan while he was on the mountain with the telescope, 4 1/2 hours' drive away, for 20 days and then down in the city for 10 days. We had been married only three years, and I protested, saying we didn't get married to be separated from each other; put me on the mountain with him. They graciously arranged a small "casita" for us, made by converting part of the office next to the telescope he would be using, supplying a little kitchen and a bath, a wall in the hallway that used to lead to the machine shop, and a door between our "apartment" and the hallway leading to the telescope "dome" itself. We lived there for 2.5 years.

Imagine being on a mountaintop at 8,300 feet altitude. To the East, the Tontales Mountains rose to over 14,500 feet, higher than anything in the lower 48 United States (Mt. Whitney in Alaska was higher). And to the West, from our mountaintop, the land sloped downward to a "Plano" of desert land with a dry lakebed (like the one at Edwards Air Force Base where the Shuttle sometimes lands). West of that landmark was the canyon enclosing the Rio de los Patos (Duck River) that flowed down from the western mountains and then eastward through the Calingasta Valley until it joined the Rio San Juan heading toward that city. And west of the Rio de Los Patos, the land less than 30 miles away from us sloped upward, up and up and yet still up, until our heads had to tip backwards a little, to the skyline of mountain tops at 20,000 feet, with Mt. Mercedario topping out at 22,211 feet -- the Andes Mountains, shielding us from storms coming off the Pacific Ocean, and providing eye-stretching vistas from north to south. In the winter, the snow would lie on those slopes from 5,000 feet to 22,211 feet; in summer, we still had snow there from 10,000 feet upward. When the winds blew, there would be snow banners streaming off the high peaks -- flags of snow soaring in the sky like sandstorms do in the desert. And as the sun set in the West, past Chile, the light would catch in those snow banners and glow orange and red on the skyline, like flames across the entire western horizon!

It was unusual for snow to fall or rest on our mountaintop, but for one week, it had snowed under thick, black clouds. The astronomers were all very unhappy about it -- views of the sky they needed to work on were being lost as time went on. I went outside and rolled three BIG balls of really marvellous snow, piling one on top of the other, and then I carved a statue of my husband, arms akimbo, beard pointing skyward, glaring at the clouds! Everyone on the mountain came up to see it, and laughter dispelled the gloom.

From our Casita, I've seen thunderclouds in side view -- standing in our parking lot, the clouds were 270 degrees around us, sending electricity from one to the other sideways, and lightning bolts down to the ground. Since the bottom of those thunderheads were at 5,000 feet, and we were at 8,300, we saw this natural fireworks show straight ahead instead of above us. Awesome!

I grew a modest little garden in front of ourr Casita -- three rose bushes (the one planted farthest way from the door being a gold/red species called Apogee), zinnias, carrots, calendulas, red flax, and various other annuals that enjoyed the sandy soil amended with readily-available horse manure. However, one day I came outside in the early morning, and noticed a parade of flower petal chunks walking along the curbstones. Leaf-cutting ants had discovered my flowers and were walking off with cuttings three times the size of the individual insect. I followed the parade of colour to the edge of our parking lot (about 55 feet!) and saw them disappear into a HUGE anthill on the side of the mountain.

Visitors came to our mountaintop to see what the astronomers were doing. It was one of the chores for the Argentine observers to guide them around, explaining the work being done at our little Observatory. The U.S. Naval Observatory had a station there at that time, doing meridian star observations (that is, photographing stars as they reached the zenith so that positions could be determined in relation to the zenith mark), and Yale-Columbia's 40-inch Double Astrograph, which was finishing the first section of the Southern Proper Motion Program. One day, Sr. Sanguine was burdened with a group of visitors, and he looked anxiously at his watch several times. I went up to greet the visitors, too, and asked him privately if anything was wrong. He said, "I have film developing in the darkroom." Knowing that film development was time-sensitive, I asked if I could help by conducting the visitors through the 40-inch dome. So we arranged that he would apologize for my "poor" Spanish language, and I took the tour over. None of the Argentine observers thereafter had to do the job; I would be notified that "touristas" had arrived, and I conducted the tours, both at the U.S. Naval Observatory hill and our 40-inch telescope, in Spanish, English, and sometimes German. I set up a small exhibit to help explain what we were doing. On some weekends, we had as many as 200 people on a weekend visiting our western mountaintop, coming from Mendoza (6 hours) or San Juan (4.5 hours) or even from Uspallata and the famous Christ of the Andes statue, to see what we were doing.

One of the funny aspects of conducting the tours was a regional prejudice. The people of western Argentina did not think very highly of those who lived in the great cities -- Buenos Aires ("los portenos") particularly. I noticed in my tours that certain men would pay no attention to what I was saying or me. They would open the door to the darkroom or the supply room and poke their heads in, or read the lubrication charts or inspect the construction of the slide-off roof. However, when I used the "paddle" to electrically move the mounted telescope to show its range of motions, they would wander over, and you could almost hear them thinking, "if she can manoeuvre the telescope, maybe she knows something after all." I got my revenge by approaching such chauvinists after the tour was essentially finished and declaring, "I think you are from Buenos Aires. Am I right?" "Yes, how did you know?" "Oh," I would reply graciously, "you can always tell when someone is from Buenos Aires!" The Observatory workers who heard me do this had to conceal their laughter.

It was a magical place -- clear, clean air; millions of stars visible in almost complete darkness (NO city lights nearby to dim the sky). One night, I walked along the path outside the dome and saw my shadow on the wall quite clearly. I knew there was no moon that night, so I looked up to see what was causing the shadow. It was the planet Venus, at that time at its fullest and brightest, and my shadow was made by Venus-light!

Admittedly, my marriage to an observational astronomer took me to places and exposed me to concepts and visions not normally experienced. Never in my wildest dreams had I conceived of living on a mountaintop in rather wild areas of a land, away from radio, television, newspapers, and even fresh milk! We left for a few days every three or four months to replenish our supply of new LP recordings or to celebrate some special event in the city of San Juan with friends and colleagues. The rest of the time, we were in a community of about 15 people, sometimes with only three of us "holding down the fort" on that observatory site. We were required to leave (with the Southern Proper Motion Program mostly completed) when the Peronistas won the election in 1974. I scattered red flax seed down the hillsides where they would get water when the Observatory trees were watered, and I hope they flourished. There are more stories stemming from those 2.5 years in Argentina, but I hope this one provides you with that mind-bending stretch of imagination that makes our lives so interesting. I'll never forget our years on that mountaintop.

UrsulaTG@aol.com July 9, 2000

Ursula T Gibson

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Would you like to place one of your memories here?

If you do, then send it to me by email

My novels can be seen at

http://www.btinternet.com/~mikeco158/onetear1.htm

http://www.btinternet.com/~mikeco158/cuppa1.htm

*****

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