"JIGGS AND MAGGIE"

I reckon I have never been quite the same...since that awful day,

out on I-40, some fifty years ago. I was scarred.

And let me just say, right now, that I NEVER MEANT ANY 

HARM!

As we were wont to do, in those times, when the boys were

both little (and cute little rascals), we were headed east on the

four-lane to Amarillo (or Clovis) to visit the grandparents!

There was a Stuckey's on the north side of the highway, half-

way between Clines Corners and Santa Rosa. We never stopped 

there---it was early-on in the trip and a federal case, getting 

off and on the freeway....when going east...

But THAT DAY, there were back-seat-cries: "Let's stop, let's stop...

REST STOP NEEDED!" So I made some incredibly intricate U-

turns, and we headed in there and parked. Out went the kids....

I moseyed around over into the section where tables were over-

flowing with souvenir-type stuff, like ash trays, coffee cups,

tea glasses, T-shirts, bandanas, ad-infinitum---marked "HELLO

FROM NEW MEXICO," "THE LAND OF ENCHANTMENT," and

other such sayings...

As I got around to the back side of the store, there was a little

hallway thingie cut into the wall...and I said to myself, "Well,

while here, I'll just visit a comfort room...good plan..." 

Now let me tell you, right now, that mans' ingenuity sometimes

goes too far...I've never had any trouble with "MEN" or "WOMEN,"

or "GUYS" or "GALS," or even "COWBOY'S and COWGIRLS..."

and certainly not with "SENORS" or "SENORAS," for I do "hablo"

a little ESPANOL.

But that day, my mind was at sea...or somewhere...maybe I was

planning how I was going to cross that median, in order to head

east again....whatever it was...there was TROUBLE COMING!!!

For I walked into this restroom...and immediately I knew

SOMETHING WAS WRONG! There were no appliances on the

wall (like men like)--- and it had seemingly stalls galore...and it

was so dainty...and cozy...and sweet...and the walls overwhelmed

my psyche, they were so gaudy...painted with flowers and stuff!

AND IT ALL HAPPENED SO FAST THAT I THINK MY MIND 

WENT "TILT."

And guess what....right then, a stall door opened, and this cute

lady walked out...never missed a step...like this happened every

day (I kid you not), and as she headed for the wash basins, she

winked at me...and smiled...and said: "YOU'RE JIGGS!"

I got out of there...FAST!

And checked those doors---and saw: "JIGGS".....and "MAGGIE!"

Yes, I had been asleep at the wheel, and wandered into the

women's rest room. 

I told B.E. about it, back at the car, trying I suppose to gain some

cathartic relief...and I told her the truth...except I did embellish the

story a little, already (in those days) making use, even then of 

"literary license..."

for....

The cute lady didn't really WINK.

All else is just as it happened.

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

MIL TELLS ALL

3/11/16

(This has probably happened to every man,

at least once.)

"A NICE LITTLE WHITE SUMMER HOUSE..."

WITH MAYBE... A PICKET FENCE
***************************************************

I spotted, one day, in my extensive travels around 

     New Mexico, over in Clovis, in a quiet neighborhood---

a neat little two-bedroom house---a place to escape to--

     in the summer...get away from it all...you know...

The little cozy place was built around mid-1940 and

    probably cost a whopping $4000, even with 

its indoor real-plaster walls and shiny hardwood floors

    like you wouldn't believe.

The neighborhood seems a bit run-down and people,

    in the whole area seem to have let their lawns

go, and I reckon the elm disease took most of the

    trees...so yes, It does look BARE!

The little white house on the corner seems to have 

    had a rather recent stucco job and a new roof.

They re-did the inside in 1980...I just happened to

     be driving by there, saw the work-van, and

stopped for minute...I was interested in that house,

    even then.

I reckon everyone needs a little "cottage-type" place

     to slip away from the madding crowds of the

big city---a quiet little  town---good sidewalk for walks--- 

     a place to read...and write poetry...and ponder...

and believe it or not, that little town and that neighborhood

    is filled with history...from WWII times.

It'd need be fixed up--the yard and all...if I had it, I'd

    (just visualize) run a paved driveway, put a block

fence all the way around it...about four feet tall, with a

   two foot white picket fence on top of the blocks...

I'd plant about eight or nine nice-size trees all the 

    way around to the alley...I'd have a nice lawn all

the way around the front, with gravel next to the 

    curbs....and shrubs and roses right next to the

house itself...

A good idea would be a little driveway, headed into

    the property right behind the house....leaving

a whole back corner next to the street for a garden,

     for tomatoes, squash, okra, black-eye peas...

and a row of Kentucky Wonder beans...

A little tool shed/work room out back, where it

    looks like a cow shed once stood...maybe

Well, you get the idea...a cool hideaway to just

    get lost now and then...and you know, 

that day in 1980 when the guy was remodeling

    and the doors were standing open, I went

in and walked around and had a strange sense 

   of deja vu....

I even looked in that big front closet, with all the

    shelves, and found myself checking for any

puzzles, Monopoly, Tinker Toys, marbles, or

    Lincoln Logs---some little kid might have left

up there in the corner of the top shelf...

It would cost me likely $30,000 dollars to really

   landscape and fix up that place, good and

proper, not to even mention what it would cost

    to buy it...and would it ever look spiffy!

Maybe the neighbors might even be inspired...

     Its  trees, lawns, shrubs, and greenery 

that the area sorely needs...

Well, there's no use in trying to fool you, my

    sharp reader...YES...that little house WAS

my home....from October 1940 until the autumn

    of 1948.... a heap 'o livin' took place there,

and the BIG ONE...WWII...

That day in 1980, when I went into the empty

    house, and the guy was working in the

kitchen, the same inlaid kitchen linoleum--

   white, with black and red speckles---was

still on the floor...

And over there where the stove stood, was 

     where Mother put that soda in the

boiling-hot syrupy peanut brittle...bringing 

    it to a thick, frothy mixture...with the kids

hanging on every movement...

I have written about this great place, several

    times, each time enumerating our young

and happy lives (They say: "Every boy deserves

a good boyhood.") So it's been fun to keep on

    remembering, but...

I will tell you, that that day in 1980 that I stopped

    by 1100 Reid, there on the corner...when I

left our house, I walked north there on the 

    sidewalk....looking for any old friends...

Next door was Don's house...I guess he was 

grown-up (he always had the latest "funny books.")

Next was Mrs. Purselly's place....and then that

    contractor...and then during the war, the

actress Priscilla Lane, lived in the next house---

   her husband was a captain out at the 

Clovis Army Air Force Base.

On the other side lived James and Frances, and

     Charles, and then Lita and Sonya, and 

the Barela boys...Mickey and his brother lived

   at the north end....

Old Reid Street was worn down more I reckon,

    by the kids playing there and crossing

at all hours to see each other, than it was by

    the traffic...and I thought, that day in ‘80,

I could see grooves in the sidewalk, worn there

    by roller skates...many years ago.

No, I didn't see any of the kids...after all, they

were mostly all around fifty years old...and

many are gone...today.

So, there you have it...I may never get my 

    summer house, that little white one on that

corner lot in Clovis...but if I do, I'm going to

    enlist Bobby Joe, the best model airplane

builder of that era (41-45), to build me a

   Thunderbolt, like I had once, to hang

there in the front bedroom...

     from the light fixture.

Have you ever thought about it---those old

   houses...could tell wonderful stories.

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

BY MIL

3/22/16

"WALKING LIBERTY" HALF DOLLAR...USA 1917-1947

 "WALKING LIBERTY" HALF DOLLAR....USA 1917-1947"

I have written about the Walking Liberty Half Dollar, 

( silver content 0.36169 troy oz.) before, and likely will

do so again, for this coin, with it's beautiful artistic

design, and marvelous "heft," characterizes for me...

"THOSE MATCHLESS DAYS" (as a 1951 CHS classmate

recently called them) of the mid twentieth century, when

we were growing up.

This coin recalls those times like nothing else except, maybe:

------USS ARIZONA exploding at Pearl Harbor....photo

------B-24's and B-29's droning around Clovis, endlessly...

------USS Yorktown sinking at Battle of Midway...photo

------Doolittle's B-25 taking off from the USS HORNET...photo

------U.S.Marines raising the flag on Mt. Suribachi, Iwo Jima

------Ike talking with the Normandy paratroopers,  D-DAY photo

------Incredible view of the D-Day fleet, photo

------B-17's over Germany, photo...

Those of you "late-comers" to the planet may never fathom

those times and the cost, some 499.000 men, which was paid

for our freedoms today, plus a whopping 288 billion dollar cost

for the war (including lend-lease....)

The Walking Liberty also speaks to me of happy, carefree 

boyhood times....ah, there was no TV, no computers, no computer 

games, no smart phones, (no "any" phones with a lot of people---

who could afford phones?)....But we found plenty to do, and

entertained ourselves.

It was really a grand time...a marvelous time---with our sharp

Xacto knives, our Testor's Model Airplane cement, and with any 

odd job we could find, we managed to scrape up enough money

to go to WOOLY'S for a WWII airplane kit now and then.

There were the "DAVE DAWSON IN THE R.A.F." books and we

read 'em all!

We mowed lawns in the hot summertime and usually got about

50 Cents, a Walking Liberty for our work...then kept it a few weeks---

it was just too special there in our pockets...to ever spend.

(My former yard man, from Mexico, charged me $90.00 last year

for a hour-and-a-half of yard work.)

We scraped bricks there at the building of the Clovis Asbury Methodist

Church, at Reid and Ninth, getting sunburned, and ruining our dads'

hatchets---for two cents a brick. They used a lot of "pre-used" bricks...

A half dollar would buy a haircut.... or a double feature at the Lyceum

on Saturday, with popcorn, and a coke and ham salad sandwich

at Woolworth's after the movie. Or maybe a Pepsi and a Coney

Island hot dog, down there south of Janeway Drug, at that

beloved little cafe, with dogs simmering right there in the window.

There was radio at night, until 9 p.m.---Fibber McGee and Molly,

Red Skelton, Henry Aldrich, Bob Hope, MR. D.A., Amos and Andy,

and People Are Funny....we kids didn't care much for Fulton Lewis,

Jr. and his Nicaragua road, or Gabriel Heatter...but guess what!?

In the afternoons, you could get 15 minute programs right down

our alley(s)---The Shadow Knows, Superman, The Green Hornet,

and Tom Mix! (I got my secret Tom Mix signal RING from Ralston

Cereal Co. for two box tops and 25 cents, and it blew"splendid"

with a loud "whirr"---but Tom Mix never came. I still have it.)

"Funnies" were what kept us going...there were comic books galore,

during our 9-12 years, and we traded with each other; Dad bought 

the Denver Post  (15 cents on Saturdays) and Prince Valiant was

ever tangled up with that giant octopus there in the ocean...and

lost "The Singing Sword," and I worried about it for years. I called

him "Prince Violet."

We got the CNJ down in the floor in Art's and Bob's living room

and checked every day at 4 p.m. to find out about Joe Palooka

and Jerry Leemy, fighting the mean Nazis in France. (We thought

they were "NAY-ZEES," check the word.)

Playing baseball and football, marbles and tops, going down

to the old lake at the end of Fourteenth Street and rummaging,

killing those awful "TRANSLERS," digging foxholes, wiping-out

the Nazis and "Nips" in our AO...has all been documented 

previously and joyously, in earlier posts...

On hot afternoons it came time to find and sell some two-cent 

soda pop bottles, enough for five cent twelve-ounce-Pepsis and
some Tom's peanuts to fill it...or a good old frozen five cent
Popsicle...banana-flavored! All could be bought at The Pleasant
Inn, just across from Clovis Memorial Hospital.

Space would prevent my trying to name all the fine teachers we

kids had in out growing up days...it'd be fun to try it...

I don't know...sometimes as I look back decades and decades 

ago, it seems like the sun might have been a little bit brighter

then---after all, the sun was younger...and our citizens seemed

a little wiser...then...

Yes, the Walking Liberty Half Dollar, said to be one of the finest

designed of all the coins...DOES in truth remind me of those

earlier times in our history, when I as a boy carried one to town

on a Saturday, walking down West Grand and by Jake's Rubber

Welder's....headed for Main Street and rolling that coin around 

in my fingers....and anticipating a fun afternoon at the Lyceum.

There are those that say, "Oh, I don't live in the past."  

Friend, your whole life will be past before you know it...you ARE 

your past...tomorrow will be part of your past...relax and 

remember....and enjoy...

University of Colorado once had a fine documentary titled: "YOU 

ARE WHAT YOU WERE...WHEN."

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

By MIL

3/05/16

BARBERSHOPS OF THE BOYS (5)

by Bobby Snipes, CHS '53

I remember only two Clovis barber shops.    The first one was in our living room at 1020 Thornton when Dad would bring Mothers kitchen stool into the living room.   Art was always first because he was the oldest.  Dad would pin a cup towel around our neck,  pull out his barber tools which included a comb and a pair of those mechanical hand held clippers. Seems like he had a little brush also.

Dad was pretty good and he had pride in he work.  He and mother wanted us boys to look neat....and Mother didn't want any gaps.   Occasionally those hand clippers (because they weren’t too sharp) would grab a hair and yank....I would flinch and holler...and Dad would say "sit still".   Oh..those were the good ole days.

Actually the only barber shop that we ever went to was  Petty's Barber Shop. It was just around the corner from The Country Store and right south of the Police Department and Fire Station on Mitchell street.   It was a little bitty shop and mother would take Art and I there occasionally.  She would take us to the door and Petty would say in his high tenor voice "Come back in about an hour".  There was always a waiting line and Angus Petty remembered exactly who you were behind.

I don't remember prices but it seems like when we were a little older the price was 50cents. I do remember that regardless the style of hair cut,  they always took that shaving cream brush with a little warm water and mixed it up to a lather and brushed it around your ears.

Then they took a straight razor and trimmed around your ears to give you that crisp look. And then to top it off Mr. Petty would grab that bottle of Jeris Hair Tonic and rub his hands together and then rub it on your hair.   Man-o-man did that smell good.  We left thinking we were the sharpest looking kids on the block and that feeling lasted about 10 minutes and then we were back wrestling in the grass.

Some years later, Angus moved his shop across the street east and I went there for years....even after Wayne Petty graduated from CHS and barbered with his Dad.  After Angus moved across the street and think that tiny building became Pax Key Shop.

On January 23, 2016 there was an article in the Clovis News Journal that a new Barber Shop was opening in the refurbished Hotel Clovis.  A lady, Jennifer Estes was returning to her home town and opening a barber shop(not a salon or beauty shop) and catering to men and she would be using straight razors, hot towels and hot soap.  She said it would be like Clyde DeFoor did in the 60s and 70s....and like Floyd Talley did before that....and like Fletch Malone did in 1910.  She said a shave and a hair cut would run about $25.00. So there is a little history and an up date for Mil's readers.


For MIL'S, 3/1/16
Bobby Joe Snipes, CHS '53

MY WRITING PLACE, GRACED BY THE SUN

MY WRITING PLACE

It didn't start out to be my writing place----

    It wasn't part of the plan...

our dining table, that is.

For years I had wanted an OAK ROLL-TOP

    DESK---one of those built to

last a thousand years...

Yes! An oak roll-top desk...with lots of lilttle

    drawers and cubby-holes to

stash stuff in....

Like old general stores in small towns had...

    and grizzled veteran lawyers

and accountants all used in their

    back room private offices...

One like Uriah Heep had in that 19th century

     Charles Dickens book!

 But it was too late in life for a thousand-year

    desk.

It would've been here aging, mellowing,

   getting scarred, and gaining "patina"

long after I needed it.

So it happened that one morning I was

    sitting at my end of the dining

table, sipping coffee, and jotting 

    story ideas on my Staples pad---

here by the big double-window, where

   the sun shines in, and the birds

play and the bushes sway---in the wind, 

    just outside!

I liked the feeling...the light...it's

   on the east side of the

house...

I too have a real, regular office, with no view...

      but over time, I adopted this---

my "coffee place," for writing---wearing out

    several protective cloths, until

this marvelous "life-time" oil cloth

    came along...embossed with

delicious, delectable, cheerful, 

     juicy-looking fruit photos!

How nice this spot is...now there's

    a hanging grain-feeder for

the finches, wrens, nuthatches, and

    always-present sparrows---

just five feet to my left...visible thru 

    the window!

A BIG roll-top desk would've  been nice

    but some four hundred

poems and stories have come from

    this spot, and ten boxes-full more

are around me---aging like fine wine.

I remind myself, writers in history have

    written in many strange and 

unusual places---in the woods, as

    M.O.---the fine poet, in a little old

leather notebook...with a stubby pencil...

And remember Thomas Wolfe, tall 6'6"

     author of "You Can't Go Home Again?"

In the thirties he wrote while standing---

     his notebooks atop a little

early fridge---his desk!

My place is fine for me...and I've learned---

The SUN is a good warm, inspiring

    companion...for any task!

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

BY MIL

MIL'S PLACE

MAY 1, 2015

BARBERSHOPS OF THE BOYS (4)

MEMORIES FROM LEVI

Levi Brake, CHS '51

You can sometimes get me started thinking which is not necessarily a rewarding experience, but one which I usually enjoy.

About barbershops, my first recollection is of one in San Angelo, TX, where we lived prior to moving back to Clovis in 1940.  Up to that point in my life Mother had always cut my hair at home using the old hand-operated torturous clipper instrument of the time.  I suppose she got tired of my squalling resistance and relented to let me go to a barbershop just down the road from us. 

I admit to being scared when the barber laid the board across the chair arms and told me to climb up there.  The thing I remember most is the wonderful smell of the place, what with all the lotions and potions, shampoos and shaving soaps.  What a MANLY aroma that was.  That was maybe the beginning of my long-lasting desire to grow up quickly and become a man.  

In Clovis there was a barbershop on the east side of Main, in the same block as Hotel Clovis I think, or maybe next to the old "Monkey" Wards store.  This was a mysterious place to me for many years. They did a lively business cutting hair but something else was also going on which took me many years to figure out.  Occasionally a man would walk in, usually carrying a small bag of some sort and he would stop and talk to the barber, briefly interrupting the haircut in progress.  He would then pay the barber some money and disappear into a back room. 

I finally figured out that the barbershop had a bath tub and clean-up facilities in the back and that the men who came to use them were likely Santa Fe RR employees, between trains and wanting to get spiffed up, but unwilling to pay for a hotel room for only a few hours use.  Mystery solved!

Take of yourself, Pard.

Levi

BARBERSHOPS OF THE BOYS (3)

BARBERSHOP MEMORIES FROM FOUR CLOVIS BOYS

Vernoy Willis, CHS '50

Well, when we moved from Ranchvale to Clovis in 1938, my dad was giving my brother and me haircuts with the old hand type squeeze handle clippers.  A dad would be put in jail today if he used those on one of his boys.  A lot of pulling but very little cutting of the hair.

My oldest memory is of Dad, my brother, and me driving to Texaco to get haircuts on Saturday mornings.  I think the tab was .25 cents each (no Jeris tonic or hand rubs)  A little Red Rose hair oil but it was free.

I think the barber shop was in the old building that later on became famous pool hall for all the under- age Clovis boys.  Shot many games of snooker in that old building.  Ten cents a game, loser paid for the new rack.

Later on I would catch a ride every morning to school with Angus Petty and Wayne.  So I was committed to their shop.The short dark hair barber in front chair (Gene) gave better cuts than Angus but I was loyal.

Later on Wayne went to barber College in Amarillo and moved across the street from his dad's old shop.

I like your red brick piece.  Wonder how many times I rode over those bricks, and did not realize how lucky I was.  Coming home from the Navy and driving up and down Main was good, but it was never the same.

Thanks for stirring up interesting stuff from the good old days. 

Vernoy

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

Art Snipes, CHS '51

Well Milburn, Dad cut my hair for a long time. One day he told me,"son, I won't cut your hair any longer."  He sent me to Pettys, guess I stayed with Petty until I married Wanda. Her dad, Jim King, was a part time barber.

Later on the US Army gave me a free one.  

Art

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

John Sieren, CHS '51

  I always went to the Petty barbershop.  My hair was so fine that I could never get it to stand up for a flattop.  So, what do you do  with hair that just lays there?  Comb it.  

John

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

Wylie Daugherty, CHS '53

The Barber Shop I recall was Jim's Barber shop, on W. Grand either in the Antlers Hotel or next door.  Jim was the lead Barber and the other was Boliver. Jim had these beautiful hat rack seats with mirror backs.  I always wished that I had whiskers, cause both my Dad and Grandad sometimes got shaves there.

My Grandpa played dominos at the Antlers and I could always find him there or across Grand at this pool hall.

Wylie
*********************************************************************************
Richard Drake, CHS '53

I remember going to Petty's.   I think it was near the Police Station.  He charged 25 cents.  He could give a great flat top which was "the"  haircut of the time.  I got my first flat top after we played a basketball game against the Military School in Roswell.  They were good looking studs, so after they had manhandled me in a game I had to get the new style.  I kept it into my thirties.

Richard

Memories--Wylie D.

BARBERSHOPS OF THE BOYS (2)

BARBERSHOPS OF THE BOYS

FIVE CLOVIS SHOPS COME TO MIND

by Robert Stebbins, Guest Writer, CHS '51

1. Red's Barber Shop on West Seventh next to Bristow's Market.  I only recall one barber, Red (last name unknown).  In 1939-1940, I had to jump up on a board supported by the arms of the chair, probably cost 25 cents or less that my grandfather used to fork over.

1. North of and adjacent to the Lyceum Theater, shop name unknown unless it was the Lyceum Barber Shop.  Can't remember barber's names or details.  Must have been concentrating on which double feature was showing, anxious for the bicycle drawing, or was smelling the aroma of fresh cooked popcorn drifting over from the theater lobby.  But, I think this is the first time I remember the barber applying Witch Hazel around my neck and ears after finishing the haircut.

1. Silver Grill Barbershop? Uncertain of the name, but located right next to Main Street in Silver Grill Shopping area.  Can't remember barbers' names or prices, but invariably haircut was followed by a chocolate shake, burger, and fries at the Silver Grill if there was any money left over after haircut.

1. Petty's Barber Shop just south of City Hall and next to a restaurant (name forgotten).  Angus Petty, later joined by son, Wayne, were the barbers.  Worth the price whatever the haircut cost. Used to see Mr. Skarda (the elder) there occasionally getting "the works".  After his haircut, he would leap out of the barber chair despite being warned that at his age (probably late 60's or 70's) he shouldn't be doing that. 

1. Another Petty's Barber Shop (not sure of the name).  I was there only once to visit Wayne during a short visit to Clovis.  Wayne's dad, Angus, had died and the shop had relocated across the street east of the original shop.  I wanted to tell Wayne about having by chance met Angus' nephew on a Boeing-747 flight from Seoul, Korea to California.  That story is, I believe, entitled "It's A Small World" or something like that.  Wayne had been having some health problems and appreciated me stopping by to tell him the story.  I believe he died not too long after my visit.

......That's all I know about barber shops...Robert

FOR MIL'S PLACE 3/1/16

Robert Stebbins, CHS '51