Memphis Blues
It's early morning in Memphis, and the coffee is brewing (I guess we can't use the word "perking," anymore, can we?), as I begin another day at my daughter's new little house in the University District, which they also call "Midtown."
Actually, this cute little house isn't "new;" in fact, it was built in 1942 - an excellent year, I might add... It sits on a quiet street, alongside other little two-bedroom houses from the same era. There are sidewalks, which is a real novelty for me and something that I think is absolutely wonderful!
Isn't it funny how we got away from sidewalks in suburban America? What an oversight! I'm sure the cold-hearted developers of our modern subdivisions could never have envisioned (or cared) that this nation would one day be a community of non-walkers, living through an epidemic of obesity, disconnected from their neighbors and living behind privacy fences and landscaped impersonality.
The cracked and aging sidewalks in Advance were built, I understand, by the WPA, the Work Progress Administration, one of the Rooseveltian ideas to get the nation back to work during the Big Depression. What a colossal imagination and ability to think outside the box! Who could ever have come up with such an idea? In this age of outsourcing to Mexico and China, Roosevelt's imaginative program seems outlandish and naive, but I do believe it worked...(thoughts on this, FJGuy?)
The other night we went to eat out in a quaint area, where houses had been turned into shops and restaurants. The area was bustling with activity, and we had to park around the block, where I got to see some really creative uses for the old "shot gun" houses of the past, tiny structures that have been turned into upscale town houses. How adorable! From what I understand, these little "dollhouse" apartments are quite expensive.
Last year, I discovered a similar, though much more modest effort at refurbishing the past, when I visited the tiny town of Marquand, MO. in Madison County, just over the Bollinger County line. Several Marquandians (?), who left the town years ago, have returned (bringing along the money they made elsewhere) and are buying up the old houses. They've restored several of them to their former splendor and are working to turn the town into a page out of history.
The same thing is being done in that historic hill town of Marble Hill. Debra Ivy has restored the old bank building across from the steakhouse restaurant (the one on the corner). I interviewed her awhile back, before the building was finished, and she hadn't decided then what she was going to "do with it," but I'm going back this summer to do a story on it. She even had the wonderful Coca Cola mural restored on the side of one of the brick buildings...and that took an impressive effort to do the tuck pointing without destroying the painting.
It makes so much more sense to save the past, rather than tearing it down to build modern replacements, which often lack character and personality. I know it costs more to renovate and restore than it does to build new, but it's such a shame to let the old things go. I don't notice that tendancy in Europe. They keep the old buildings forever.
Well, I had no idea which way this piece of writing would go when I started it... and the problem with composing on my daughter's computer is that it'll time me out and I have to keep hitting "copy," in order to save it... I need to quit for now...Besides, her large, fat calico cat is tapping me on the shoulder and gently biting my knees, reminding me that she wants some attention. I guess I shall have to sign off for now.
Yesterday I had several calls from the homeland, reminding me that the weather is getting bad, and I should "keep an eye on it." It rained all day here in Memphis, and my daughter's little front yard is under several inches of water. So much for planting flowers on this trip...
From the "Armpit of the South," this is your roving rural reporter, Madeline, signing off on a soggy southern Tuesday morning... Keep your mind whole and your powder dry, folks!
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The beautiful thing about local history is that it keeps changing, as someone discovers another unknown tidbit.
Exactly where is Ms. Alberta's house? Vine...mmm...must check a map..
The combination of "money" and "dream" so rarely go together - That's why so few of these old treasures are restored, I'm afraid...
I have such good memories of Malden Airbase. Not the town or the school - just the airbase. My brothers and I spent many happy hours running all over the base, playing with the other kids, catching the bus to school, swimming at the base pool... It was all sunshine and the soothing drone of airplane engines. I don't remember a single cloudy day.
It makes me too sad to go back. Too many ghosts...
I wish I had the guard post that stood at the entrance.
If those are the buildings you're describing, they were used as housing when the base was re-opened in the early 50's. In fact, my family lived in one when we first moved up from Texas to the airbase. I don't know how long we lived there, but it was only until one of the pre-fabs opened up - so then we could live "above ground." (That's what it felt like!) The block houses had ice boxes, and the ice man delivered the blocks of ice periodically. I don't remember how they were heated, but they had once used coal, and there were old coal bins out back. My brothers and I thought it was an adventure to live there, but I'm sure my mother had other opinions...
I'll tell you what I know. During WWII it was a military base; then it was closed down after the war ended (1945). Around 1950, it was reopened, and my daddy always said that Lyndon B. Johnson is the one who pulled the strings to get that done.
We moved up from Texas about 1951-1952, and lived on the base until about 1953, when we moved to Dexter.
My dad was a flight instructor and had students from all over the world. My favorites were his German students. At first, the students were called "cadets," and they were straight out of high school. Later, they were "student officers" and were older, mostly married. This information, was very important to me, of course, as I was a teenager and would have given my right arm to date them (which Daddy never allowed to happen!).
They flew T-28's and T-36's - (trainers). Daddy would even go to the flight line on Sundays.
Even after we moved to Dexter, I would take my brothers swimming at the base pool. Mom and Dad would go to dances at the officer's club. These facilities were well into the base and couldn't be seen from the highway.
The base operated year after year, with an occasional rumor that it was going to close - but the rumors always proved false - until 1960, when the base closed suddenly.
I'm sure there are people who know more than I do, since I was a child at the time - but, as for a written history, I would have no idea where to look.
It had a wonderful yard on the Vine Street side, and there was an iron fence around the whole thing. There were bay windows all over the place, but the most impressive one was in the formal dining room, which faced Vine Street. It had lovely parquet floors and two ivory columns on each side of the entryway. The east wall had built in class cabinets for china.
Mmm...I may devote an entire blog to this topic, since I have some old pictures of the exterior and interior.
My dad was Edwin W. Giles and was listed among the instructors. His students called him "Steady Eddy," because he never got rattled. One time there was a fire in the cockpit while he was flying, and when he landed, they had all the firetrucks there. They asked him where the fire was, and he said, "I put it out."
Maybe one day I'll post some memories on the site.
Wow.....wow.......wow!
I still can't figure out about the barracks, though...
It had a long, enclosed but unheated porch, which connected the main building with the original kitchen - which had been set off from the main house. That room was also unheated, so we used it only in the summertime.
Uh, oh...Why did you use the past tense? "Was"?
When I was writing a food column for the Statesman, I was told to interview a certain good cook, but we had to postpone it, because her sister died. Then, when I saw her later, I knew the face: It was Delores Godfrey's sister, and Delores was the one who had died... So sad, so sad, so sad! We're too young to die!
We went to the Christian Church when we lived in Dexter a million years ago, but I don't remember the little house - just Pauline Vaugh's great big house on the other side.
In more recent years (the last 35 years, to be specific), I've noticed that my pond out here on the farm doesn't freeze solid anymore. We came here in '75, and the pond seemed to freeze solid every year back then.
Global warming?
Then, of course, there's 1979, which (I'm sure) broke all the records. We had ten-foot snow drifts out here.
My mother always spoke highly of the Covington ladies, who always seemed so delicate and gentile. They were a large part of the Library Board, as I remember, and I think they were the ones to whom we paid the rent for the Elm Street house each month.
I don't remember ever being in the house, but one of our cousins recently reminisced about a PUPPET SHOW that the ladies put on for the kids one time.
Still, at least they saved the old gym.
I remember when my dad came home one day (when we lived on Malden Air Base) and said, "I've found a new town. Do you want to see it?" and he brought us to Dexter. We couldn't believe it! (having come up from Abilene, Texas, the land of sand and cockleburrs) When he asked us if we wanted to live there, we all said, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" It was like a garden paradise to us!
My mom had the same experience in Springfield, MO. She married a widower who had moved to El Paso, Texas for his health - and they would spend the summers in Springfield. When they took back photos from Springfield, their friends in El Paso couldn't believe how GREEN it was! They accused them of doctoring up the pictures!!
I'll get back with you tomorrow!
You really should consider taking them to see that dinosaur exhibit in Marble Hill (after the water goes down!). The experience could make them fall in love with science, which is something that could give them a definite educational advantage.
On second thought - Maybe I shouldn't encourage you to write a blog: Once you got online, nobody would read mine!!! Hahahaha!
Of course, the advantage of staying behind your anonymous pen name is that no one would know who to call and chew out!!!
* Graceland overpriced.
* There is a zoo, which I haven't seen, because my pro-animal welfare daughter doesn't support zoos.
* Beale Street can be fun for families during the daylight hours. In warm weather, jazz musicians are out playing on the sidewalks, and there are lots of neat shops that the kids would like.
* Slave Haven/Burkle House is a museum where people can explore slave tunnels. My daughter hasn't been there, but it gets high ratings on the internet.
* Mud Island River Park is supposed to be cool and has a museum centered around the Mississippi River.
* The Peabody Hotel has the "Duck Walk" at intervals throughout the day, in which ducks come down to the lobby on the elevator and walk through the crowd to swim in the fountain.
* There's a Children's Museum, which she hears is "neat but pricey."
She reminded me to warn you strongly to be VERY careful with your car and belongings WHEREVER you go - even if it seems safe - and keep a very close eye on your children!
She always says to me, "Mom, after all, this IS Memphis!"
After Mom & Dad divorced, he married my sister's college English teacher, and they eventually moved to Seattle, to be closer to her children (and, supposedly, me - We lived in Fairbanks, Alaska at the time).
They retired to Bradenton, Florida, (I think that was the name of the town) and that's where Daddy died of a stroke in 1995. He was 83. He was so healthy all his life, swimming 75 laps in an Olympic-size pool on his 75th birthday - I always thought he would live to 100.
It's a small world, isn't it?
Here in the Tillman Outback, it's early morning, and I have seven deer picking through the leaf litter in my back yard. (While my dogs sleep on the front porch!)
The planetariam is in the Pink Palace Museum in Midtown. That sounds very interesting! I may go there the next time I'm down to see her.
I love all these separate conversations on this blog!