Saturday, October 24, 2009

Dirty Corduroys And Curly Hair. . . .

Hi-de-ho' to all of you 'Hep Cats',

"What's buzzin, cousin?"

I wanted to post a little trivia about the dirty corduroys worn by
David and Ronnie in the picture accompanying my story, "What
Are You Doing Here?"

The late 1940s were an exciting time to be alive, especially if you
were a high school student full of adventure and enthusiasm.
The fads in clothing were the 'Cat's Pajamas' and 'Slangish' was a
language that belonged to us and was a 'solid' part of our lives.

The boys of Lincoln County High School soon discovered that
corduroy pants were a comfortable and welcome addition to levis
in their wardrobe and they became the 'threads' of choice. They
found themselves saving all of the 'dead presidents' (money) they
could in order to purchase a pair. Cream or light beige were the
colors of choice because they more easily showed the dirt.

I say, a pair, because one pair could last for most of a school year.
They never washed them. If Mother even looked like she was
going to include them in the weekly laundry, they would 'flip
their wig'! The dirtier they were, the more 'cool' it was. The
campus was 'buzzin' with boys 'gammin' (showing off) their dirty
cords.

David's were some of the dirtier cords on campus. He was
'dynamite', the 'cat's meow' and was 'flapping his lips' about
it to anyone who would listen, and those who didn't want to.
We had a joke at home that they were so stiff he just stepped
out of them at night and stood them in the corner until he
was ready to jump into them in the morning. I swear that
I have gone into his room and seen those cords standing in
the corner on their own. That was when they moved from
being ordinary to 'killer-diller' (good stuff).

Another fad that took the boys of Lincoln County High School by
storm was curly hair like David and Ronnie flaunted, in order for
them to appear very 'cool'. Much to the delight of the merchants,
the Home Perms jumped off the shelves faster than they could
stock them. Homes throughout the county had that distinctive
odor as dozens of cury haired boys boys vied with each other
to be designated as the 'grooviest dude' on campus.

When David was a senior, the Lincoln County Lynx basketball
team all sported curly hair. I am rather proud of the way David's
curly hair looks in that picture, as it was I, who gave him the perm.
I have to admit that he looked 'swell' when I was finished.

Check out that picture again and pay particular attention to those
dirty cords and curly hair, they are indeed, the 'bee's knees'!

To help you be 'gone' (knowledgeable) about the Slangish in this
story, I have marked it thusly ' '. I hope you 'dig' it. I'm going to
'fade' now, 'see you later alligator'!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

What Are You Doing Here?!!. . . .


My wedding was not without it's share of drama and humor. In addition to the drama of me getting caught in a sudden, and isolated,
thundershower a scant hour before the wedding ceremony, another
incident occurred which was hilarious and quickly became a favorite
story for both the Wadsworth and Wimsatt families.
George's sister, Margaret, worked for quite a few years at the El
Rancho Drive-In Restaurant in Las Vegas as a Car Hop. It was
located on Charleston Blvd. and Main St. and was a popular hangout
for the young people, both local and out of town.
One day in February of 1951, a car load of young men from Panaca,
who were in Las Vegas to watch the Lincoln County Lynx play in
the Regional Basketball Tournament, pulled into one of the drive-in
stalls. The driver was my brother David. Now, anyone who knew
David, also knew that he had the enviable reputation of being the
world's greatest tease. Well, at least Lincoln Colunty's greatest
tease. He was always at his happiest, and his best, if he had what
he considered the perfect subject upon which to work his magic.
A pretty dark haired woman came bouncing over to take their
order. The story goes that David immediately began to work his
wiles. He soon found that this vivacious, enthusiastic woman
could dish it out with the best of them. They bantered back and
forth as she took their order, and again when she delivered it.
After they had eaten, she handed David the bill and started to
remove the tray. David grabbed it and said, "I've always
wanted one of these. How much will you charge me for it?"
Pretty Woman, "I'm sorry, the trays are not for sale."
David, "Aw, come on, I'll buy it for more than it is worth."
Pretty Woman, "Sorry, can't do it."
David, "Okay then, what if I just drive away with it?"
Pretty Woman, "Are you trying to get me fired?"
David, "Heck no, they aren't going to fire their prettiest and
best car hop over one cheap tray."
Pretty Woman, "Want to bet on that, and I need this job!"
David, "Spoil sport, what if I just do this?" And with that,
he handed her the money plus a generous tip, pulled the
tray into the car and as they roared away, heard her yell,
"You'll be sorry! I'll find you!
Fast forward three months and we find David sitting in the
living room of his parents home on Ina's wedding day. He
was joshing with his sisters and teasing Ina about marrying
a 'Rock Eater' and living in Pioche for the rest of her life.
"A fate worse than death", he said.
Someone knocks on the front door and David saunters over
to answer it. He opens the door and stares into the brown
eyes of a familiar looking pretty woman. They look at each
other in shocked silence, and then in unison, young man and
pretty woman exclaim, "What are you doing here?"
As his family sits with open mouths, and without missing a
beat, Pretty Woman says, " I came for my tray."
David, innocently, "What tray?"
Pretty Woman, "The one you stole."
David, "I didn't steal any tray and besides how did you know
where to find me?"
Pretty Woman, "I have my sources."
David, now a bit rattled, "Seriously, what are you doing here?"
Pretty Woman, "I came to see Sheriff George Wimsatt."
David, "Ah shucks, don't tell me you've come to have me
arrested over a cheap tray, which by the way, I was always
planning on returning. But really, what are you doing here?"
Pretty Woman, "Yeah, I just bet you were planning on re-
turning it, but besides meeting with Sheriff Wimsatt, I am
here for my little brother, Junior's wedding. He is going to
marry Ina Wadsworth today."
David, in shock, "Ina is my sister and she is certainly not
going to be marrying anyone named Junior, she's going to
be married to George Wimsatt."
Pretty Woman, "What? You mean my little Junior is
marrying the sister of a soon to be convicted, thief?"
David, trying to fit it all together...Junior...George...
Sheriff Wimsatt..."Who the heck (I'm not sure heck is the
word he used but for my story, it is the one I will use) are
you lady?"
Enjoying every minute of David's discomfort and laughing so
hard she could barely stand, Pretty Woman says, "I guess I
had better introduce myself. I am Junior's, I mean George's
sister, Margaret Garrison and I'm here with my daughter
Todd Ann, to make sure her Flower Girl dress fits."
As his family were overcome with helpless laughter, a redfaced
David mutters, "Pleased to meetcha" and under his breath,
"Not really."
David did try to return the tray. Margaret refused saying it
was worth every cent that was deducted from her pay check
to watch him squirm. "Besides", she said, "He really is a cutie
and his generous tip paid for the tray.
This is a true story. It is written from my memory and the
accounts of those who witnessed it on that fateful day. Some-
times the Devil really does get his due, but oh how I, and
everyone who knew him, loved that handsome Devil!
A bit of trivia; George was christened George Paul Wimsatt, Jr.
Much to his dismay, as he was growing up, his three older sisters
called him 'Junior'. He hated it. While living in Las Vegas, he and
his sister Betty, often walked down So. 5th Ave. to Anderson's
Dairy where Margaret worked, to get milk and cheese. The
dairy made ice cream, which they sold there, and supplied to
stores throughout the area. Margaret would usually give them
a pint of soft ice cream before it was completely frozen, for
them to eat as they walked home. One day, as they left the
dairy, Betty handed the bag containing the glass bottles of
milk to George and said, "Here, Junior, you carry the milk."
He said, "Don't call me Junior, and why do I have to carry
it?" She answered, "Because I told you to, that's why!"
Thoroughly angry, George said, "No, I won't," put the bag
down on the curb and bolted for home like a frightened deer.
Being an athletic sixteen year old tomboy, she would have
soon overtaken this eleven year old boy, but after chasing
him for a few blocks, she reluctantly went back to retrieve
the milk. Knowing his parents weren't home to protect him,
he ran into the desert by the trailer park and hid until they
returned. Even after his show of defiance, Betty still continued
to call him Junior and insist that he carry the milk.


Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .#6

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes. It was still dark. I
heard soft sounds coming from the kitchen as mom went about
her early morning routine. They were familiar and comforting
sounds, signifying that all was right in my life. I smiled to my
self and then realized that mom was talking to someone. It
sounded like my sister, Theresa, but what was she doing here
in Panaca, she wasn't here when I went to bed a few hours ago.
Theresa! I sat up with such a jolt that Delores, who was sharing
the bed with me, tossed restlessly in her sleep. Then, I
remembered! Today, May 24, 1951, was my wedding day.
Today, I would marry my sweetheart, George Paul Wimsatt.
With my heart pounding and butterflies in my stomach, I tried
to relax as I thought back over the last few days.

It seemed that everything had happened so fast. When George
left for his Boot Camp at the naval Training Center in San Diego,
we had just renewed our romance. We had decided while
corresponding, that we would be married when he graduated
from Boot Camp and was home on leave. Knowing there would
only be a little over two months to prepare, I had been very
busy. With my mother and sister's help, I felt that we had
done a remarkable job with the preparations for the wedding
and George's baptism, which had taken place just two days ago.

My bishop was out of town and would not be returning before
George had to report back to The Naval Training Center, so we
asked Bishop Horlacher from Pioche, who was George's bishop,
to marry us. He was a good friend of my father and also was
the father of my sister Delores' boyfriend, Pete. George had
chosen Gino Choquer to be his Best Man and Delores was to
be my Maid of Honor. Our little nieces, Lois Marie Magleby and
Todd Ann Garrison, were to be our Flower Girls. Theresa had
made the little girls dresses and George's sister Margaret
would be here this morning with Todd so Theresa could make
sure her dress fit her properly. My wedding gown and veil
were pressed and hanging on the closet door. My sister,
Martha, would be here this morning to style my hair. I wanted
it to hang natural with soft curls and a fluffy bang.

We had decided on an outdoor wedding. Mom's best friend,
Rachael Free, lived just down the street from us on the corner
directly across from "the Castle". She had the most beautiful
yard in Panaca. It was a showcase of beautiful flowers, trees,
and shrubbery. It was a riot of color with flowers of all shapes
and hues blooming in wild profusion. She was delighted to open
her beautiful yard to us for our wedding. Her son, Darrel and
his wife Lena, had been helping her plant new flowers, replace
old ones, and trim shrubbery and trees. An arbor had been
built and laced with flowers.

Our wedding ceremony was to take place in the late afternoon
and the reception would then be held at the chapel in the
multi-purpose room. My family, with help from some of the
Panaca women, had decorated the room, and the foyer where
we would greet the guests, with armfulls of flowers that Mrs.
Free had let us cut. They made the room and tables look
beautiful. Refreshments were to be made, and served, by
the ward sisters.

Panaca could still be having chilly weather in May with a chance
of thundershowers, but the weather today was supposed to be
nice. I convinced myself that it would be foolish for me to worry
about an outdoor wedding with a chance of thundershowers. I
admit that was easier said than done.

Thinking about all of this, I decided we were ready. I lay there
for a little while reflecting on it and trying hard to calm myself.
I had to confess that I was nervous and wondered if George was
also feeling a little apprehensive. That thought made me smile,
as he had always impressed me as being an "unflappable" type
of guy. During our romance, there had been many times when
circumstances had put me into a frenzy and he had remained
so calm and cool that I wanted to pound on him. I think I was
secretly wanting him to be just a little nervous.

I snuggled back down and lay there for awhile until I heard
sounds signifing that mom was heating water to wash hair and
take baths. I decided I had better get up.

Things seemed to move along smoothly. "All too smoothly", I
found myself thinking. Margaret had arrived from Las Vegas.
Todd and Marie were the same age and size, and so her dress
was a perfect fit. They were adorable, two little blondes, Todd
with brown eyes and Marie with blue.

I washed my hair and took a bath. No mean feat since it was
all done in the kitchen, which was transformed into a bathroom,
in a #3 tub filled with steaming hot water and sitting on two
wooden chairs. This was perfectly normal to me, having bathed
and washed my hair in this manner my whole life. This, being
my day, I was privileged to use the facilities first, thus being
assured of having plenty of hot water. Some of the family had
already taken their baths, having gone to the Spring last night.
After I was through, I combed the tangles from my hair so it
would be dry when Martha was ready to perform her magic.

As we were leaving immediately after the reception to go to
Las Vegas, I needed to pack and be ready for our Honeymoon
trip. We were riding to Vegas with Margaret. She would drop
us at the El Cortez Hotel. While in high school, when we would
travel to Las Vegas for school trips, I would often gaze with
longing at this beautiful old hotel and dream of one day staying
there. That I was actually going to spend my wedding night
there was a dream come true! We would be there for two
days and then take the train to Los Angeles where George's
brother, Jack, would pick us up. They had converted a part
of their beautiful home into a private suite for us. We would
stay there for several days and spend some time at the beaches
and Knott's Berry Farm. Jack would then drive us to San Diego
for George to report back to the Naval Training Center and I
would take the train to Caliente.

Martha worked her magic with my hair. It fell to my shoulders
in soft, natural curls and my longish bangs were fluffy, just as I
had envisioned. She was quite proud of herself. Now there was
nothing left to do but wait until it was time to dress for the
wedding ceremony. It had been too easy, surely nothing could
go wrong now! Just before it was time to dress, Mrs. Free
called to say she had a vase of roses to be placed by the guest
book in the foyer. I was feeling antsy and decided to get the
flowers and walk them to the chapel, thinking the exercise
would calm my nerves. It only took a few minutes and I was
on my way home. I noticed the sun had momentarily dis-
appeared and looking up, I noticed two small black clouds
directly over me. I was a block from home when there was a
flash of lightening and a loud clap of thunder, and then those
two little clouds opened up and a deluge of rain poured down.
There was no place for me to go for shelter, so I sprinted like a
wild thing for home. The sun was already shining again as I
burst through the door.

I was soaked and all I could see was Martha's shocked face.
There was no time left and my beautiful hair was ruined.
What can you do when your wedding is a scant hour away?
We didn't have a hair dryer. We did have a curling iron if we
could dry my hair enought to use it. Martha was able to
put some soft curls back into my hair but my bangs just
seemed to hang limply in my eyes no matter how much she
teased them. With me in a tizzy, she decided to cut them
very short into what she described as "The bang that Ginger
Rogers had just made famous". It exposed a lot of forehead
and the ends barely turned under. "Just trust me, Ina" she
soothed, as I ranted and raved. I tried to relax. She, after
all, had been a model in Miami, Florida. She loved it, I wasn't
sure about it. "What a bride I will be with braces on my teeth
and a bare forehead showing below these famous Ginger
Rogers bangs!" Too late to worry, though, it was time to get
dressed. At least those two irritable clouds didn't rain on
Mrs. Free's garden, the bridal party and wedding guests
wouldn't get wet. As for me, it had just been a case of being
in the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely it wasn't an
omen of things to come? No, I was too happy!

Next up. . . .Our Wedding. . . .