Fireflies, Jacks and 

             Betsy McCall

Listening to the children talking at my granddaughter's 5th grade graduation, the excitement of summer vacation right around the corner brought me back to my own childhood, realizing the glaring differences of when I was a young girl that age, and the girls now. 


When I was growing up, summer meant going on day long bike rides around our neighborhood w/ friends. We would go a-calling.....visiting the two elementary school teachers that lived in our neighborhood that taught at our local school (it never dawned on us that they were probably busy w/ housecleaning or that maybe they were HAPPY to be rid of us for the summer!). There were hours and hours of playing school w/ friends out in our garage w/ a black board nailed to the sheet rock, the "teacher" standing w/ a piece of chalk in her hand, explaining something to the "kids" sitting single file on the cool concrete of the garage floor. Somehow in this game, someone always ended up getting mad and going home, and for the life of me now, I can't remember why? Some days our parents would give us a nickel or a dime to walk up to "Bingley's Corner"-a store obviously owned by the Bingleys'. They made the best sandwiches in town, had rows upon rows of penny candy in clear glass jars, and had excellent butchered meat. We would hold tightly onto our sack that they put the penny candy in, talking about the interests in our lives as we made the mile long walk back home. Some days when none of my friends were home, I can remember mama carrying a blanket out to the back yard under the trees, and bringing out my coloring books and crayons.....I used to love laying on the blanket and coloring half the day away. Before I knew it, it was lunch time and mama would bring a paper plate down the hill with a toasted tuna salad sandwich on it, and a glass of cold grape kool-aid. I can remember thinking nothing in the world tasted as good as that tuna sandwich! After lunch I might color a few more pictures, being SO CAREFUL to stay within the lines, and then suddenly realizing how sleepy I had gotten. I would push the crayons and coloring books out of my way, and lay on my back, looking up at the sky and watching the different shapes of the clouds, as they rolled by me up in the sky. I was amazed that the clouds moved.....generally when you just look into the sky you don't realize it, but relaxing and just watching......they just rolled by, one after another, changing shapes all the while. At some point very shortly after I began watching the clouds roll by, I would slip into the most delicious sleep I have ever experienced. Is there anything more peaceful than the sleep a young child sleeps? No worries, no problems, no responsibilities to encumber their mind....just deep and peaceful sleep. 


There would be days when my friends and I would jump rope most of the afternoon. Daddy had gotten a big, thick rope from Cheatham Annex where he worked and brought it home to me, and as long as we had three girls, we could play jump rope until we either wore out, or someone's mama called "SUPPER!!!!" I remember going through a number of shoes during the rope jumping phase in my life. And my sweet little mama never complained about having to replace shoes so often.


Some evenings after supper, my girlfriend and her brothers and I would hook up in her back yard playing a heated game of softball. It was an exciting way to end our day spent in play. The hot Virginia heat along with the humidity was thick enough to choke a horse, but at that age, it never phased us. 


On the chance I would awaken to a day the heaven's opened and the rain poured from the skies, my world became exponentially smaller. All of my fun was contained to the inside of the house. Sometimes mama would help me cut out Betsy-McCall paper Dolls. Mama was so much neater using the scissors than me.  And when all the outfits were cut out, I would spend a good many hours playing "paper-dolls." 


Jacks were also a wonderful way to wile away the hours on a rainy day. I would sit on the floor of my bedroom, tossing the jacks, then using the little red rubber ball to retrieve as many as I could before making a mistake and having to begin over again! I would do this for hours. The shiny, slick hardwoods were a perfect setting for the jacks!


Occasionally when we would go to visit my grandmother and grandfather a short five minutes away, there were two girls in high school, much older than I, and they tolerated me, inviting me over for a game of hopscotch on the narrow little 2 lane road they lived on. They always seemed to have pink or blue colored chalk, and I remember one of the girls drew the hopscotch board on the street. We'd pick up a small rock, and play hop scotch until I heard mama calling me, knowing it was time to leave. I was just a young kid.....I can remember Mary Sue and Sandra talking about "teenage" things that were above my head on occasion. But mostly they remained down at my level. I remember thinking Sandra was beautiful, and thinking she had the prettiest eyes ever-kind of a beautiful mix of blue-green. All I'd ever seen in my house was brown eyes! Maybe that's the only shade I thought they came in-thus the surprise when looking in Sandra's eyes.


One of my FAVORITE play times of summer, came at dusk, with the sun setting behind the clouds, feeling the oppressive heat begin to cool for the evening, and watching mama go inside to bring me a mason jar w/ a lid and seal........mama and daddy would sit out on the patio and watch their only child run around the yard like a sprite, catching fireflies in the jar. Of course the jar had been prepped by me ahead of time pulling up some grass and lining the bottom of the jar w/ it. My favorite part of this adventure, was that I could go barefoot, feeling the cool green grass beneath my feet.  I would spend 'til dark watching all the area of our yard, running to catch a firefly and put it in my jar, anytime the little "light" went on. At the end of the evening, mama would take the jar and punch holes in the top of the jar w/ an old hand can opener that I can still remember like yesterday, with a dark red handle on it w/ a white stripe around the bottom. We would place the jar on my chest-of-drawers for the night, kind of guaranteeing me a living "night-light." 


On some days that the sun was shining, a group of neighborhood kids would gather at  my house, and begin to play "Red Light, Green Light" in my front yard. That was always good for an hour or two. After Red-Light, Green-Light, we'd end up laying on the ground, and rolling down the steep hill that rolled down to the street at my house. We'd climb the hill and continue to roll down once again, over and over and over.                                                                   


I was brought back to reality listening to one of the "little " girls mention how "BORED" they would probably be over the summer time. I was astounded.....BORED???? How can you possibly be BORED when your mama and daddy have bought you every toy that has been marketed by Hasbro since its inception! These kids have cell phones, hand held computer games, lap top internet ready computers, e-Readers, dolls that cost over a $100.00 that are made to "look like them".........as I get ready to end my day getting on my computer to talk to a few of these childhood friends I am still in touch with, there is a wistful sadness that covers me. I think back to the children of today, and wish them the peaceful, innocent life that I left behind on Penniman Road growing up as a child of the '60's. I don't remember ever saying "I'm bored." I was much too busy being happy, cutting out dresses for Betsy McCall, and playing jacks on my bedroom floor.