A WOODSDALE HALLOWEEN

A WOODSDALE HALLOWEEN

  Tonight is Halloween and things seem to have changed a lot since my days trick or treating. First of all, the City of Wheeling determines what times one can ring doorbells, not parents....is this BIG GOVERNMENT? Second costumes are not usually homemade, but are bought at a store and adults spend more on costumes than all the costs of kids outfits combined! Third, well, somehow I just don't remember a single Halloween when there was snow and rarely rain!..now it is common.

A Woodsdale friend posted on Facebook that she gave away 400 pieces of candy in minutes and was inundated by carloads of kids being dropped off in the neighborhood.  I remember that even in the 50's and 60's we had kids from other places going door to door with us, but they were few and far between and usually hit the neighborhood at dinnertime (between 5 and 6) which was a big no no in my family.

The local news tonite on tv featured Walnut Avenue as one of the most elaborately decorated, but I have seen houses in Woodsdale decorated on all three floors many times. There have been burglaries on Hamilton Avenue lately and the neighborhood watch invited the police to come instruct them on how to make their neighborhood safer. Times have changed....does anyone remember a locked door or a burglary in Woodsdale in their youth?

One of my favorite Halloween memories is of my father setting up a microphone on the porch and when the kids would come up, he would announce in a very scary voice "I'll send the butler out promptly". My brother Michael would then appear as the butler and hand out the candy. I also remember sneaking the furniture off Miss Meek's porch as a prank and tping (toilet papering)  a few trees now and then. One year I got stopped by the cops, hid my roll of toilet paper under my coat and when they asked what we were up to, somehow, it got loose and rolled away down the street with the tail caught up in my waistline. They just laughed and left, thank goodness. I can't remember what we used to collect our loot in, but I think it was pillowcases and when we got home we (all Quinn kids old enough to participate) would dump them out and sort or trade pieces...though we were only allowed to eat a few and the rest went into the "vault"...my Dad's stash for the winter that he would open while telling stories around the fireplace in the basement. That candy would last a long, long time...and let me tell you, stale candycorn can taste pretty bad.

What memories do you have of the Great Pumpkin night?

Strolling Through Time

       
                                            Left to right: Anne Brown, Caroline Coleman and Marsha Montgomery at the Woodsdale Kids picnic.

Just spent a great day with Caroline who now lives in Philippi. Though it was rainy and cold we had a great time (as usual) talking about growing up in Woodsdale. We never ran out of things to talk about, enjoyed some nice meals, and had a great time strolling through time. I only wish I could do the same with so many other childhood friends.

Writing for the blog

I was told at the picnic that many of you readers don't contribute to the site because you find the writing so intimidatingly good...that you feel you are unable to write anything as good. I say "Hooey!" Anybody can put a few words together if it gives others moments of pleasure. It doesn't have to be grammatically correct, spelled right or whatever....as Nike says...'Just do it!'

All of you seem to think you don't have any memories worth writing about....not true, some little incident that you share may bring a spark of memory to others. That is what the blog is all about sharing memories and bringing back the good times we all had. Sure there was sadness, and hard times, and bad memories...but let's celebrate the good times by putting something on this blog that will make someone else smile with delight remembering when they too did or said or saw the same thing.

In these troubled times when we are all a lot older, all have health problems, or money worries or both, isn't it absolutely essential that now and then we make each other smile? Come on folks, you can do it...write something!

Happiness

Happiness, that's the word that comes to mind when thinking about being a Woodsdale Kid in the 1950's. There were so many friends, so much to do: flip baseball cards, read and trade comic books, play Indian ball, shoot baskets in by backyard or with a friend across the street, read books on the front porch swing, get excited as the days for the bookmobile's arrival approached, see Vincent Purpura's vegetable truck stop in front of our house.

Living at 30 Poplar Avenue from the 1950's to the summer of 1962 was one of the happiest times of my life. I'm still in touch with the now 96 yr old woman who lived with her husband and daughter in the other half of our duplex. Playing with the Quinn Kids two doors down. These and so many other memories are still fresh in my mind. I vividly recall crying when I heard we were moving to Los Angeles the summer before my senior year at Triadelphia. We might as well be moving to the moon. California seemed so far away.

For me, Woodsdale was the perfect place to grow up. I have not been back in almost 50 years and circumstances now preclude my doing so, but that's okay. I prefer to remember Woodsdale the way it was: Woodsdale School with its solid stone able to absorb all the laughter, tears, and learning that occurred within its structure. The building is gone, the memories aren't. Perhaps the passage of time has made my time in Woodsdale more idyllic than I remember. I hope not!

Stuart Rubinstein, Los Angeles, California

Just a Couple More New Zealand Stories

This photo was taken in Pago Pago where my seatmate and I had an hour layover on our flight to New Zealand. I thought it was humid in West Virginia, but in Samoa it was like someone throwing a wet blanket over you as you emerged from the plane. My seatmate, Sara, was a Kiwi
(not the fruit, the people prefer this designation to New Zealander) and had just run a marathon in London. We decided to have a look around the island and since the pilot had announced we had a whole hour, we headed up a mountain.

While enjoying the view, I looked down to see our plane slowly taxing away without us. Sara, a great runner, took off down the mountain, out onto the runway, stopped the plane and we got on with much embarassment, but to a standing ovation for Sara. I later stayed with her family on their deer farm in Napier, New Zealand....had a great time and yes they do actually farm deer.

While hitchhiking around the country having a  "look/see" as they say down under, I found the slang pretty strange. A nice man picked me up and gave me a ride to the next town. He started his conversation with, "Do you like gridiron?" I knew he meant American Football ( in NZ football is soccer) and though I am definitely NOT a sports fan, I thought I should be agreeable so said yes.
"What team do you support?", he asked. "I root for the Pittsburgh Steelers", I told him. The look of shock on his face was followed by the question, "The WHOLE TEAM??!!". Yes, I explained, "you can't root for just one of them!" Well, he looked at me very strangely and was very quiet the rest of our journey. As soon as possible, I went in a tea room (snack shop/bakery) and repeated the conversation to a friendly woman behind the counter. She laughed til tears rolled down her cheeks and then explained that in New Zealand "to root for" means to have sex with! From then on, I was often asked if I was that Yank who roots for the Steelers. NZ is a very small country with 3 million and 70 million sheep so word spreads quickly...but I denied that I was that very wild Yankee gal.

Teaching Hillbilly

Because of a request for more New Zealand stories, I've decided to include one of my favorites:.

While teaching high school science there, I was constantly teased by my students about my "accent"which to their ears sounded very strange. So, when I changed schools and began teaching on the South Island, I decided to try something new. The first day of school, the principal had all the new teachers up on the stage and introduced me by saying, "This is Ms. Quinn, and you will notice that she speaks quite differently than we do". But I didn't get to say a word.

When the students entered my classroom for first period, I greeted them with, "Hi, y'all we shurr are gonna have a great year!". The looks on their faces was shock. So I contined my ruse, by saying, "Do y'all think I talk funny?" and they all nodded their heads. "Well, I speak Hillbilly and if you would like I kin teach you to talk like me", I continued. They all agreed that they would like to learn this strange language so I began.

"Now youns over cher you say 'I shurr aim tarred and them over there say 'Well, poosh that cooshin over here and set a spell". I had to write it phonetically on the blackboard and they practiced til they had it...then I explained what it meant (translation....I sure am tired and Push that cushion over here and sit for awhile). The kids loved it. I resumed speaking normally and they said, "Ms Quinn, you really don't talk like that!" and I agreed that I had no accent.

They were so enthralled with"Hillbilly" that I agreed that if they were very good, I would teach them some more. At lunch that day I got back to the staff room and the principle came up to me and said, "I shurr aim tarred!" and laughed hilariously.

At our first parent teacher night several months later, the principal came up to me and said, "Ms Quinn, all the other teachers are gone and you have a line of parents waiting to see you!" I asked him to bring them all in at once and knew what they wanted. Sure enough, one parent said, "We are here to learn some Hillbilly.....and we want something the kids don't yet know" So, after making appointments to see them all later in the week, I said "In West Virginia, we have these little shacks up on top of the mountains where rangers watch for forest fires....they are called "far tars" (fire towers). They loved it!

Sudden Death

My sister Louise Quinn Symons died suddenly the day after the Woodsdale Kids' picnic from sudden Death Syndrome which also took my mother (at age 58) and my brother Colin (at age 47). If the person is conscious when this this heart electrical failure occurs they can be saved with CPR and defibrillation if it is applied very quickly. So PLEASE folks, for your family and friends, learn CPR and invest in a debrillator if your family has a history of this illness.
  Louise was only 67 and just thriving in her love for her only grandchild Ellie. She loved to read, quilt, and did beautiful needlework. Her health was good and she had no physical limitations when it came to traveling the world or enjoying life.
   Let's rejoice in the gift of each day and find Life astounding!
Kathleen Quinn