Last night I was laying in bed thinking about my years as a child living in our family home on Thorne Road in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. Times were different, for sure. So, I thought it might be nice to put down some of my thoughts and memories of that time, for my daughters and my grandchildren.
We moved there when I was just starting elementary school (Caledonia Elementary School). It must have been 1960 or 1961. We moved from Rockville, Maryland when my dad took the position of pastor at Hope Lutheran Church on Taylor Road in Cleveland Heights. Thinking back I can’t remember much before living in that house on Thorne Road. I was too young to have memories in my early years in Maryland.
But, I can really picture everything about that house on Thorne Road, inside and out. Yes, I have pictures to remind me, but I was also old enough to remember much about our times there.
When we first moved to that home my parents decided that my older sister and I would share the master bedroom, and it had a door that connected to the bathroom, the only bath on that floor. It was the biggest bedroom and we each had our own bed. She loved the Beatles and so I remember we had Beatles posters on the walls. A few years after living there my dad finished off the attic and added a bedroom for my brother upstairs, and an office for himself. When that happened I was moved into my own room (which had been my brother’s). It was the room on the left at the top of the stairs. It had a window that did not seal closed well and I remember Ohio winter’s cold air seeping through it. At times I stuck a sweater or sweatshirt there to plug it up better.
After dad finished off the attic the house had a total of four floors. We had a basement that was half finished, half unfinished. In the basement my dad turned a big closet into a darkroom to process his own photographs. Yes, that was a thing. He had the solutions for processing film. He had a red light so he could do the work without exposing the film to bright light. He hung the pictures to dry! It was a hobby for him. Under the stairs in the basement was a closet that held our ‘dress up clothes’ and other toys. I remember that a couple of my mom’s old gowns we used for dress up. In fact one of her black dresses we used for a few Halloween costumes! A gypsy. A witch. The first floor, the main floor, had the living room, the dining room, kitchen, and a half bath. A screened porch was attached off of the dining room. We had a side door to the driveway and next to the door was a “milk pass through.” Do you know what this is? When the house was built it was for the milkman to deliver milk and to leave it there. A small door was on the outside for him, and there was a small door on the inside that hooked/locked closed, for us to receive the milk.
The second story had three bedrooms and the bathroom. It also had a laundry chute in the wall in the hallway. Have you heard of that? We could put dirty clothes in it and the clothes dropped down to the basement, near the washer and dryer.
As I said, the top floor, the attic, became a bedroom and an office. Lots of stairs! As a kid it was no big deal.
The house had no central air conditioning. We had a huge ceiling fan on the second floor that opened up and made lots of noise but helped circulate the air on hot summer days. I remember well when my dad first bought a window air conditioner and put it into his office window on the top floor. On hot days we would go sit up there in the beautiful coolness and watch his little black and a white portable TV. 3 VHF channels and 1 UHF channel. No cable TV back then. An antenna was attached to the TV that we moved and positioned to get the best reception.
I lived in that house through 7th grade. Many of my memories are about playing down in the basement. We had a pool table down there and I remember making it into a “Barbie Island” and playing with all my Barbie dolls on it. I had a Midge (Barbie’s friend) and a Skipper too. I think Skipper was her niece. My sister and I had the Barbie Fashion Shop. To tell you the truth, I think it might have been a gift for her but I played with it also.
We also played for endless hours rolling on skateboards in the unfinished half of the basement. My brother and I would skate circles around the big furnace in the middle. He also had a large fish tank down there, at the bottom of the stairs. One of his hobbies.
We had a basketball backboard and hoop on the garage and my brother and I played many games of “HORSE.” We played many games of badminton in the backyard too. I remember occasionally hitting the badminton birdie up on to the garage roof and my brother climbing up to get it down. He is the middle child, closer in age to me. I’m the young one. Our backyard had a chain linked fence. One day I tried to climb over it (maybe to get a birdie) and my knee got caught on a sharp edge of the linked fence. I still have a scar from it today.
We had a milkman (really!!) from Dean’s Dairy who still came to the house and brought us our milk and ice cream. His name was Elmer. As a family we bought lots of ice cream. I remember saving the zip off strips from the half gallons and getting a free ice cream after collecting a certain number of strips. We also had Charles Chips potato chips delivered to us. They were the absolutely best potato chips, delivered in a large brown can. We would return the can so it could be reused. If you have never had Charles Chips you are missing out on the best chips ever!! Fresh, large, and light!!
Here’s something interesting too. We had a garage but it was not connected to the house. It sat back a little. We kept our garbage cans in it, but would place the cans right outside the garage on garbage pick up days – and there were workmen who drove little ‘golf cart-like’ scooters and they picked the cans up, took them down the driveway to the garbage truck to be emptied, and then brought them back. What service!!
I can still remember many of the neighbors on our street. There was an older couple, the Hersheys, directly across the street from us. And, the Swansons, and the Muirs, were across the street too. I babysat for the Muirs’ little boy when I was in 5th and 6th grade. At the end of the street lived a boy (Dominic?) and his backyard was a hangout spot for lots of kids from the neighborhood. They were Catholic and they had a Virgin Mary statue in their backyard. I had never seen that before. We had the rule to come home when the streetlights came on.
Back in those days we walked to school. As a child it seemed like a long way to go (although it was NOT uphill both ways – ha). I can picture the path in my mind. Down my street and turn right. A couple of blocks more and then walk past a small strip of shops (which was across from my dad’s church). A couple more blocks, turn right, then a left – to my school. I walked with friends. We think everything was safer in those days, and yes, they probably were. But, I remember once walking with my friends and a man in a car pulled up beside us, and drove slowly by us as we walked. I remember going with my friends to the principal’s office to tell them about this man.
I had trouble saying my S’s and Z’s. For awhile in 2nd grade I was pulled out of reading with a couple of other kids to have speech lessons. We would play games during the lesson times and practice saying ‘it’s your turn’ the right way. I think I never got fully ‘fixed’ and I still say my S’s and Z’s wrong. Oh well.
My elementary school was built in the traditional way of that time. Each classroom had a door to exit outside. Can you imagine that now?? No! We had real chalkboards and children were chosen to go out the door and clap the chalk erasers together to clean them. We breathed in huge white puffs of chalk.
I remember the day Pres. Kennedy was shot. And on the day of his funeral our classes all went and sat down in the hallway at school where a TV was wheeled in so we could watch the event.
For a few years while I was in elementary school “Chinese jump rope” was a fad. Can you imagine calling it that now? I imagine it must have started as a fun thing to do by little girls in China. The rope was really a large piece of elastic tied together. It went around the ankles of two girls and a girl would jump into the middle and make designs – kind of like a large “Cat’s Cradle.” We also did ‘two rope/two people’ jump rope often too. “Double Dutch”…. Hmmm. Another politically incorrect term.
As for teachers: I remember Miss Reid in 2nd grade. She actually inspected our fingernails! I think she was looking for dirt – and for biting. Mrs. Hayes was my 4th grade teacher and I loved her. Why? She was kind. She never yelled.
When I finished at Caledonia Elementary my parents worried about sending me to the big public junior high school, Kirk Jr. High. My brother and sister had gone there and it was a ‘tough’ environment. The school was a mix of suburban kids and inner city kids. Cleveland Heights kids and East Cleveland kids. A mix of all types. So, my parents sent me to St. John’s Lutheran School. I rode a bus to and from each day. The good news was that I knew half of the other students in my class because they were from my elementary school. Their parents also did not want them going to the public school. St. John’s was a safe environment. I do remember hanging out after school one day with a group of friends and no adults were around – and we played “Spin The Bottle”! Ha. My first time getting a kiss (a peck) from a boy. Already at that time I had a crush on Steve Brady. I had known him since 4th grade – and I just thought he was the cutest, nicest boy! He played “Spin the Bottle” but did not kiss me. Boohoo.
During those years living on Thorne Road much of my life also revolved around church activities. As a pastor’s kid I was in the church building a lot. I was a member of the youth choir of course. I went to Sunday School – and I hung out with my best friend Karen Olson. Karen and I were ‘church girlfriends’ because we went to different schools. She lived kind of far away from me so it was always wonderful to see her at church. Karen was (still is) very artistic, musically and drawing, and we spent lots of hours together chalking on the boards in classrooms in church. I helped occasionally in the church office. Dad brought me in on Saturdays and I helped fold and put church bulletins together for the next day. I later did the same thing as an adult at my church in Sparta, NJ – and then at my church in Pawleys Island, SC.
We grew up with a family dog. Always. And it was always a Boston Terrier. During my Thorne Road years we had one named “Pal.”
We also co-owned a Shasta vacation trailer with a church family we knew well. Most summers we took the trailer out to state parks. We pulled it behind our car. A couple of memories of it: Sometimes we had the dog ride in it while we traveled. Pal would climb up on the table to look out the front window and watch us in the car. If dad had to stomp on the brakes quickly poor Pal went flying off the table! I also remember that the pilot light for the little refrigerator in the trailer blew out every time we traveled with it. It seemed like dad was endlessly relighting it to keep our food items cold. My last big memory is the time we were camping and I had eaten onion rings at dinner and they did not sit well with me. As the youngest I was in the back hammock, next to my brother, hanging above my parent’s bed. Well, I started to get sick! I could not get out of the hammock quick enough so my brother reached into the kitchen cabinet next to him and pulled out a large bowl for me to puke in. And I did! Oh what a night!! Sick in a 16 foot trailer with 4 other people and a dog.
I remember my years in Cleveland Heights as a typical life of a kid at that time. I had a bike. I loved to do art. I was an okay student. I had chores to do. I went along with the flow of the family. As the youngest I know I had it easier at times than my siblings.
I was sheltered for sure. I was fortunate to never feel like we did not have enough, although we lived on a pastor’s salary. We were a middle class family like so many others at that time. I never felt the need for wanting more. I never felt like I was missing out. I did not grow up too fast.
For that I am very grateful.
Marla’s Musings 