First of all, TV arrived in our little town on Lake Michigan about 1948. The first one was in an appliance/furniture store window downtown. The crowds standing outside would have drawn the police today. Maybe then too, but all they would have wanted was to see that miracle of moving pictures on a tiny screen. When my parents got one, we would turn on the TV, let it warm up for 5 or 10 minutes and then watch a test pattern for hours. Soon we could watch real programs. Howdy Doody was a favorite of mine.
We played outside after school and on weekends. Didn't make any difference what season it was. The difference was we wore shoes, socks and boots in the winter. Probably a jacket too. When our mothers got sick and tired of us, we were thrown outside and the door was locked behind us. We found neighborhood kids and played games that we made up. Or games that our grandparents taught us, games they probably learned from their grandparents in the Netherlands.
One thing remained constant through our growing up years and even beyond. In the summer the outside door had a screen on it. And that screen door had hinges on one side and a heavy spring on the other, so it would spring closed if you let go of the handle quickly.
For some reason, no child on earth, up to and including today's can close a door without just letting it slam. So we all heard, "Don't. Slam. That. Door!" each and every time we used it. To protect the screen doors from early demise, protectors were sold. The were usually metal and had some sort of decoration on them. I have no idea what they cost, but probably lots less than the ones in antique stores today where I found this one:
I look at it and can still hear my mother hollering at us to Stop Slamming the Door.
Thanks for visiting.
And don't forget my book is on sale at Amazon.
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