Friday, September 7, 2018

OLD PHOTOS....TAKEN WITH BROWNIES.....TELL STORIES


                                        CLOVIS, NEW MEXICO, circa 1948
                                             Eleventh Street, facing Thornton

To the unwashed in historical matters
it just looks like a thousand other nice
old childhood photos, found in an old
Whitman's Chocolates box---under the
bed---on a New Year's Day.

But this photo tells me all kinds of things---
almost like the wind---when it whispers
things to us---on lonesome days....

Now the photo shows "me 'n Art" Snipes, 
about 1948 standing on 11th Street facing
East, and his nice little two BR home at
1020 Thornton; with the detached garage
to our right. 

Garages were not connected much to 
houses, then. 

You can't see his house in the photo. It
was built about 1939 I think. There are
elms trees all around it, likely about seven
or eight years old in '48.

The tree right there behind us was much
 smaller in '42 or '43 when the war was
 on and we built mud houses in the
 shade with our putty knives, with
 lob-lollys of mud and cooled our bare
 feet in the cool puddle.

See the nice lawn and the the small driveway.
Jake would come home from O.K. RUBBER
WELDERS for lunch, pull up in his pickup
and get out and smile big, as he was a 
friendly man, and say sort of musically:
"Hello, Boys!" (We must have also quit for
lunch, sometime.)

Back in 1941, the summer of probably
the wettest year on record in Clovis, and
when the neighborhood was "brand new,"
the city dug big twelve-foot ditches along
11th Street, where Art and I were standing
for our Boy Scout photo.   And they were
probably eight feet deep, filled almost to
the tops with water...muddy water.

One afternoon during this time, my little
brother Bill somehow disappeared from
radar, so to speak. He was about five.

I mean---it was an alarming situation.
The whole neighborhood helped search 
high and low. Finally attention focused
on those water-filled ditches and the Fire
Dept. was called. There were ditches also
on Reid where we lived at 1100. Sewer pipes...

My memory fades here a bit, but I think
my little brother was found about that 
time---two blocks down Reid South,
at my uncle's residence near the future
Asbury Methodist Church....safe and 
sound ...and dry. He had just wandered
down to our uncle's for a short visit.

You'll see in the photo farther toward
the alley, a little barn where Jake kept a
steed or two, and a chicken house.

The photo shows, back at the alley, thru 
the elms---if you look closely--- a
basketball goal (see the straight post).

Bob and I spent many hours dribbling,
shooting, or playing One-On-One at
that alley goal...and wore out some 
good balls on that alley-filled-with-
rusty screws-and-nails and much dust.

It was--- almost like Coronado's men
had camped right there in 1512.

To my and Art's  left was a big vacant
lot that was there for years. We fought 
WWII out there and had foxholes, with
tunnels, and it is a wonder we weren't
trapped in one tight little ten foot tunnel.

We lived a block west on the opposite 
corner on Reid. From our big front window
we could see all the way to Thornton
and whether or not kids were out playing.

These two Boy Scouts were members of
TROOP 14, with-red-and-black buffs.
Our Troop met at CBC every Tuesday 
night in the basement 7:00 p.m.

You may not believe it but I could almost 
write a book about those grand times of
growing up...this  photo has many more
tales to tell...

They say every little boy should have a fun
childhood...and we certainly did...we got
our money's worth...

One last thing you might have missed:
I will end with this: See that little Kid
in the background of our picture, kind
of lurking...and "photo-bombing" our
photo!

Well that Little Rascal....is none other
than:       BOBBY JOE, CHS '53.  !!!
------------
BY MIL
20 AUGUST 18

********************************

Response from Bobby Joe Snipes:
Love that photo...so neat of you and Art.  Great summary of a portion of our child hood.  I remember those ditches....and those kerosene smudge pots they lit and set out at night......also those wooden paddle scrapers that the Mexican men made to scrape their shovels.......and yes I can hear the Mexican men hollering out  "Agua, Agua".....ready for a drink of water.

Great memories, Milburn.......thanks for sending.   Bob

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