Fortunate, thankful to be a boomer

My class reunion will be held in August. I graduated from Austin High School. It will be the 55th year reunion; several of my classmates have passed on, but our class had well over 500 members, so there are still many people to see and catch up with. As I reflect, I feel very fortunate and thankful to be a baby boomer; I was able to grow up during the best of times. 

My family was lower middle class and we appreciated anything and everything we had. Dad worked 50 hours a week at an office supply and Mom took care of the household. She could cook, sew, and play a mean piano. All of my childhood friends grew up in the same environment; I can remember only one good friend who grew up with a single parent. 

I grew up in a small house on the east side: one car garage, one car family, and three boys sleeping in one bedroom. My two brothers slept in a bunk bed and I had a small single bed because I was the oldest. During hot summer nights, we survived with a window fan: No one had any idea what central air was. 

On Sundays every business in Austin was closed. It was time for church on Sunday morning, everyone dressed up, everyone figured on spending the entire day with family. Mom would make a great lunch, Dad would monitor the portions each of us received. I remember only two slices of bacon per person. Maybe goulash, beef with carrots and potatoes, or chicken dumplings for supper. Every Sunday evening it was family T.V. time. Our television received three stations thanks to rabbit ears. We all sat together to watch “Bonanza,” the “Ed Sullivan Show,” and “Walt Disney.” We were in bed by 9:30. 

I remember how excited we were to see the Beatles perform on the “Ed Sullivan Show.” “Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett” were always my favorites on Disney. Dad purchased a T.V. with color, “Disney” and “Bonanza” were our first viewings in color, and Dad planted a T.V. antenna on the roof. Saturday mornings became prime time for kids’ cartoon shows with “Heckle and Jeckle,” “Mighty Mouse,” “Bullwinkle,” or the “Road Runner” - beep beep! Half an hour with “Roy Rogers,” “Sky King,” or “The Lone Ranger.” Every baby boomer can also remember “Leave it to Beaver,” “Father Knows Best,” “Ozzie and Harriet,” “My Three Sons,” and many other shows aired weekly on the T.V.

Dad was an avid outdoorsman; any chance he got he took us hunting pheasants or ducks at Lake Geneva or fishing at St. Olaf Lake. We’d tie cane poles to the side of the car, throw our 6-horse motor in the trunk, rent a boat at the store on the lake, and catch sunnies and crappies. Mom could prepare anything we harvested from the wild, so we had many meals of game or fish.

Mom enrolled us in Holy Cross Lutheran School, whose activities and events were the centers of our lives through sixth grade. The only means of transportation for kids was walking or riding a bike to school. When Dad decided it was time for us to gain some independence, he went out and bought us our first bike–used. If we wanted something better, we were told to acquire it on our own. I remember shoveling driveways, mowing lawns, and working a 5:30 a.m. Pioneer Press paper route to earn enough money to buy a 3-speed black Schwinn bike. 

Our neighborhood consisted of a group of kids not unlike the little Rascals. We built a baseball field a few blocks away on the airport property; we pulled games together there all summer long. Kick the Can was a game we played every evening. I especially enjoyed the game because all of the girls played. During the winter, we’d walk a mile to the East Side Lake warming house, put on our skates and play games on the ice. 

We walked or rode our bikes miles to have fun. I fished with friends on the Ramsey Dam, a two-mile ride one way, or the Dobbins Creek Bridge, a one-mile ride. Our city swimming pool was a three-mile trip. Sometimes we’d carry buckets on our bikes, ride to the Ramsey Golf Course, and drown out striped gophers for 25 cents a piece. 

I grew up loving athletics. Mom shopped for groceries at our Piggly Wiggly store and collected Green Stamps. I remember her saving stamps for a set of dishes–we ate off them forever. She also got me my first basketball. I listened to or attended every Packer basketball game, and shot baskets countless hours on our driveway, even during the winter. 

While attending Ellis Junior High, I lived for sports. We had huge class numbers and everything was Intramurals. Our big game was against another junior high, Central, which we completed our season against in basketball, football, and baseball. 

I passed my drivers’ test and it was off to Austin High School. I was involved in sports so Dad purchased an old white Pontiac we called “the bomb.” I was an above-average student, but my memories are all about sports. 

During my junior year, we won the state in football. I played defensive back on an undefeated big nine team. 

There were no playoffs, a mythical state champion was crowned by the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Basketball was my passion and I played guard for the Packers. There were no girls’ sports, only cheerleaders and dance lines, also no 3-point basket. Geez - that was a long long time ago. The gym and open auditorium were always packed when we took the floor. We always got out of school early, rode a GreyHound bus, and had a big sit-down team meal in a fancy eating place at every away game. The guy I always sat next to on the bus and I would always eat a banana and an orange on the ride. I’d trade him my orange peelings for the fruit of his orange. He always ate the peelings: maybe that’s why he was an outstanding player. We had great basketball teams but my high school career went down in flames when we lost to small school Hayfield in the sections. Oh yes, I did make the honor roll in high school. 

Unlike more modern kids, I have no recollection of computers, cell phones, or technology; only a dial telephone hanging on our kitchen wall. I can’t recall any lockdowns, school shootings or drug problems; if a student was a troublemaker they were sent to a detention center in Redwing. 

The words “stress,” “anxiety” and “psychological testing” were never in my vocabulary. I don’t remember mass shootings in malls, workplaces, neighborhoods, or even places of worship. I don’t remember violence, the burning and destruction of blocks of our major cities, a covid pandemic, or police brutality. I do remember getting a polio shot or a smallpox vaccination–and a police officer bringin me home when I was out after 10 p.m. curfew. Today I could probably call that police brutality, maybe even file a lawsuit!

I grew up during much easier times, the golden years. The world has definitely changed and there is no need to worry or lose sleep over everything taking place. I will live each day to its fullest, watch some Andy of Mayberry and Gunsmoke, and go to bed with memories of Dad buying the family 25-cent huge chocolate swirl ice cream cones for the family at Klagees in Austin. I will say my prayers tonight and go to sleep in peace; God will take care of it all.