“Have you been to a Drive-in Movie lately?”

By

Gerry Niskern

Fall weather is coming and it’s time: Drive in movie time! I can hear some of you Millennials asking, “Drive in Movie….what is that?”

Years ago, before air conditioning, TV, electronic games and computers, drive-ins were a great place to take the family on a balmy weekend evening. In l958, there were 49 outdoor drive-ins in Arizona and now might be one. It’s debatable.

Land proved to be too valuable to the owners and the developers around the valley. So the drive-ins disappeared, one by one.

In the l950’s the Northern Drive-in was going strong. They charged per person rather than per car like some drive-ins. Of course, that meant that a teen driver had to have his buddies and their girl friends hide on the floor of the car until they got through the gate. No one was going to pay for each passenger if they didn’t have to!

When we were raising our family the Indian Drive-in was a great place to see a movie, We didn’t have to spend hours on the phone trying to hire a baby sitter just so we could see a movie. It was located at 4141 N. 27^th Ave. near the northeastern corner of 27^th Avenue and Indian School road. Burger King and a Motel 6 stand there now.

Once inside, there was always the period of adjustment where you tried to get the right tilt of the car to see the screen to everyone’s satisfaction. After that was settled, the kids wanted to head straight to the playground. Most drive-ins had a playground with equipment to keep the munchkins happy until the movie started. Of Course, the trip back to the car went right by the snack bar.

Most kids arrived in their pajamas because their mothers were counting on them to conk out soon after the first feature started. (There were always two features shown). If you wished, you could lie on the hood of your car or sit out in lawn chairs and enjoy the cool air. (Yes, there was cool air in the evenings.)

When I think about it, my kid’s daddy  wasn’t real crazy about drive-ins. At least once during every excursion he would declare, “This family doesn’t come to watch the movies, we come to demolish the car!” That proclamation was usually made after the knobs were off the window cranks, the wind-wing windows were no longer working and the visors were sagging and askew.

Actually, there was one reason he chose the Indian Drive-in over the others. Diagonally across 27^th Avenue and Indian School Road was the Air Haven Airport. That airport had two unpaved runways. He enjoyed watching the light planes dropping in just a few feet above the huge movie screen as they descended into Air Haven.

A trip to the drive-in movie during this time of year was best of all, monsoon season. The lightening show crackling above and behind the giant screen gave you two shows at once.

“The Passing Parade”

By

Gerry Niskern

I confess. I’m a confirmed people watcher. When I was a kid, taking in the bustle of downtown Phoenix on Saturday night with my parents was cheap entertainment. Dad would say, “Let’s go downtown and Watch the Passing Parade.”

So now, of course, our large valley malls are good for more than shopping; they are great for watching that “Passing Parade”. While sitting in a food court one Saturday, I enjoyed the wonderful variety of people who walked by.  I was seated behind the clown lady dressed in bright polka dots and red and white stripped stockings. She was coyly tossing her red yarn tresses, laughing at the security guard’s banter. She wasn’t selling many balloons, but hey, the security guy was already sold. Children in strollers reached their hands in anticipation of a balloon, but those with grandparents were the ones who usually received one.

The teenagers were in the majority, strolling in groups of three or four.  There were lots of both slim and chubby bare midriffs over low rider jeans on the girls. The boys wore cargo pants and lots of extra long shorts with tee shirts.  If they sported baseball caps, about half were bill forward and half bill back. The guys had hair short on the sides and the girls had long locks hanging forward, on one side.

Occasionally the tinkling of bells drew my attention to some Asian teens passing by.  Both boys and girls wore loose, yellow satin pants with lots of red fringe and dozens of tiny bells sewn all over them.

I will admit I was taken back by the guy with the girl on a leash fastened to a collar. Later on, I saw a boy with a collar on being led by a girl. It kind of makes those friendship rings that our parents objected to seem pretty tame.

You could spot the snowbirds in their shorts and sleeveless shirts on this fall day. It’s amazing how different people perceive the weather. There were lots of spaghetti straps, but just as many long sleeves on others.

The couples pushing elaborate strollers were often carrying the baby; his ride was piled with purchases. If the baby was actually in the stroller, regardless of blankets, there was at least one bare foot sticking out.  Every team in the NBA, MLB and the NFL were thoroughly represented in the attire of the little boys.

I will confess the moms-to-be with the glaringly bare, expectant tummy, joining in the latest trend is a little hard to take. I want to offer them something to cover the poor, little offspring-to-be.

Blue jeans are indeed the universal uniform. Everyone, Senior girlfriends buying movie tickets, Native Americans with their hair in traditional knots in the back and even wheel chair shoppers were denim clad.

Every so often a youth sports team passed by. No precious time to waste changing after the game; gotta head straight to the mall. Kudos to the dad I saw with three girls from a soccer team. He opened his billfold and gave them their allowance. They all synchronized their watches and went their separate ways to shop, including dad. I think it probably cuts down on the temptations when they know he is somewhere in the mall shopping too. Maybe dad was just concerned about the guys with the dog collars.

When I left, the security guard was back, hitting on the balloon girl again. The least the guy could do was buy one of her balloons.

“Hug, Anyone?”

By

Gerry Niskern

Is it just me, or has anyone else been wondering about all the hugging going on these days? It has definitely evolved into a form of greeting and goodbyes too. And don’t even get me started on all the politicians hugging everyone on the podium before a speech.

One evening a couple of years ago, I was sounding off, as I’m prone to do occasionally, about all the social hugging; and I’m afraid I hurt a good friend’s feelings. He was a dedicated hugger. When I got my foot out of my mouth I tried to explain that I didn’t mean among family and old friends. You see, our friendship dates way back to grade school here in Phoenix. The sandy haired kid that I remember was the class cut-up. I’m indebted to him for providing many a laugh on long boring afternoons at Adams School.

I learned a little about the modern hug after consulting Miss Manners. She tells us that the hug has become a new form of social inter-action. However, she does not approve of acquaintances trying to skip the preliminaries of becoming close friends before starting the hugging. So, when did all this hugging start?

I grew up in an era when men shook hands and women hugged a little, sometimes. Parents hugged their children and maybe an aunt or uncle slipped in a hug or two, but not often. I confess I was born with that anti-hugging gene. My mother loved to tell how I, as the first baby around in years, would deftly dodge the out stretched arms of loving relatives as I made my independent way around the house.

When I worked at the Valley National Bank the vice-president demanded a hug and kiss from each girl as he passed around our checks. Suffice to say that he learned quickly to just give me my check on payday; no preliminaries.

Actually, today hugging is considered very important and one of the most pressing needs of elders for social interaction. A group at the Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburg has developed a product called The Hug. The Hug uses an anthropormorphic form and behavior to impart a sense of presence. It is soft and organic and fits the human body comfortably, suggesting that when activated and communication is established it should be held in the arms.

Its main function is person-to-person communication using wireless telephony and pressure sensors. A hug network is set up with the use of a standard memory card. Once the connection is established, senders can squeeze, stroke, hug or pet The Hug, sending sensors to the recipient at the other end.

I’ve learned a lot about hugging and, also thinking before I speak. My strong  objection to the “social” hug is that it devalues the age-old meaning of the hug. The little social half-hearted hugs that I see as people part seem contrived and uncomfortable.

I don’t know if my old friend from childhood ever forgave me for voicing my displeasure of too much insincere hugging, but I know one thing. If he were here today, I would sure give him a great big hug!!

By

Gerry Niskern

.           I played my first board game, Monopoly, when I was about eight. I loved it!  I used to set my little thimble (why I always chose the thimble I don’t know) at the starting point and vowed to end up with all the property and money too. I admit it, I do like to win. I guess that trait runs in the family, because one of my grandsons used to last in a Monopoly game only until someone else landed on Boardwalk and he didn’t have a chance to buy it. The board would soar into the air and the all the hotels and little houses took flight as he stomped from the room.

Of course, we played board games with our kids when they were little and then the weekend sleepovers of the grandkids were two day game marathons.

In the mean time, we were getting together often with other couples and playing Trivia Pursuit, Taboo, 25 Words of Less, Pictionary, Telestrations, Catch Phrase, and the list goes on and on. We had one friend in  particular that loved to win so much that if we were trying a new game and she or her team didn’t win, she refused to play that game again.

Games at family gatherings three or four times a year were fun, but not often enough. Then sadly, we lost old friends the game players, one by one, but Ken and I still played Scrabble and Quiddler together and then he was gone.

My good neighbor and two grandkids played Trivia Crack on my phone with me for a while, but life was pretty desolate.

Then someone told me about the Meetup groups that played board games. I signed up and played games with friendly players and then later played Trivia with another group of great people.

Last week I was allowed to join an established group playing Trivia at Aunt Chiladas. They were very welcoming and lots of fun. And best of all, I was able to supply a couple of correct answers! With more games in my life again, the game of life is better.

“What? Flooding in Phoenix?”

By

Gerry Niskern

A map of possible flooding in the Valley of the Sun was published in the Arizona Republic and shown on local television a few weeks ago. It was suggested that this was a possibility if one of the dams should break.

As hard as it is for residents now to fathom, Phoenix has had more than its share of floods.  The valley has always had years of hard drought and then years of unbelievable rains. The thunderstorms that sometimes come tearing through the valley create havoc, but most of the time these torrential rains just managed to give everyone’s grass a good soaking. I know it’s hard to believe it, but sometimes we actually do get too much precipitation here in Phoenix.

Tremendous damage was caused by a rainy spell in February, 1890.  The Salt River, the Gila, the Santa Cruz and even the Colorado burst their banks and spread out over farms and homes along their courses. The Salt rose nearly seventeen feet above normal and washed out the Tempe railroad bridge and many miles of Southern pacific track between Tempe and Maricopa, and between Maricopa and Yuma.

Most of the homes in the lower area in Phoenix were under water. Adobe houses melted like candy. People were mired and stranded all over the territory. Cattle and other livestock were caught and swept away and ranchers and farmers had much of their tillable land gouged out and carried off.

The territory soon recovered from this blow. Bridges, ditches, railroad grades, and homes were rebuilt. No weather bureau records were kept at that time, so the amount of the three day rain was not exactly known.

Arizona’s wet and dry seasons have always been erratic, but seldom has one extremely wet year been followed by another. But that’s exactly what happened.

Going back in history, 1891 was actually the year known as the year of the great flood.

The life and well being of Phoenix depended on a plentiful supply of water from the Salt River.

Water from the river was basic to the development of the Valley of the Sun. Although sometimes the rain was inadequate, but mostly sufficient, it occasionally and unfortunately, sometimes it became torrential.

On February 18, l891, rapid snow melt in the mountains and several days of heavy rain produced a terrible flood in Phoenix. Water reached parts of Washington Street by the end of the day. More than sixty families had their swept away. Mostly adobe, they crumbled from the force of the rampaging water. Phoenix rescue workers plucked individuals from treetops and carried them to higher ground.

Fortunately, back in 1870, an early resident and the first mayor of Phoenix, John T. Alsap, had suggested a safe site for the permanent townsite of Phoenix. Located on high ground, more than a mile north of the Salt River, the site, bounded within the rectangle of Van buren on the north, Harrison on the south, and Seventh Street and Seventh Avenue was approved.

The Salt River spread out two or three miles wide below Phoenix.The rise of the Salt River surpassed that of 1890 by a foot or more, at point reaching 18 feet above normal. The Tempe railroad bridge and miles of track again went out. Telephone and telegraph lines were out leaving Phoenix without outside communication.

It melted down a lot of newly constructed adobe homes. Livestock was swept away and crops were torn out again. Again entire families sat sodden and wet in trees waiting to be rescued.

The floodwaters finally began to recede seven days later, on February 24^th. It left behind a quagmire of mud and debris. This injected new energy into the local business community to support the need for a controlled water supply to overcome periodic floods and droughts.

Unfortunately, after the flood, few real estate developers wanted to create residential areas in the southern part of the city. Most wanted to live north of Washington on higher ground and away from potential flood damage. Poorer neighborhoods grew up in south Phoenix, along with railroads, factories, warehouses and stockyards.

In more recent times during my childhood in the early l940’s, in one of those summers when we thought we were forever doomed to dust storms, but no wet relief, the rain finally came. We kids celebrated as we always did. We put on our bathing suits and ran joyfully through it. Hey, there were very few private pools in those days and not many public either. We’d take the water any way we could get it!

But the rains didn’t stop. The parched ground couldn’t hold it. The earthen Cave Creek Dam finally gave way and a wall of water hit Phoenix. The raised railroad tracks along Nineteenth Avenue dammed the water. That caused the entire residential area of  stately old homes around the State Capitol Building to endure heavy flooding.

We kids, in the blissful ignorance of childhood, enjoyed riding our bikes through the knee high water flowing curb to curb in the streets. West Jefferson street with it’s high curbs was especially deep. Our dads would follow along in the wake behind the  Estes buses in order to make it to work.

Most of the businesses, including the capitol building, were sandbagged. The capitol basement still flooded.

Since this was during WWII, there were always many army vehicles in the city. We kids were treated to our first look at an U. S. Army amphibious vehicle.  The Seventeenth Avenue underpass, about three blocks south of Washington, was flooded. Cars could not get through. Inconvenient detours around were time consuming, especially during gas rationing. One afternoon, we kids watch in awe as a group of soldier’s came down the street and drove right through the deep water and on under the bridge!

Even with the dams constructed along the Salt, there continued to be occasional floods in Phoenix. I remember listening as a neighbor told my parents about a flood in l938. “Back in thirty-eight the river really overflowed it ‘s banks. The Central Avenue Bridge was holding the water and debris back. Even though it was located on higher ground, all of central Phoenix was in danger of being flooded. Everyone went down to watch because the authorities were going to dynamite the bridge. Just as they were ready to light the fuse, the water started to subside.”

One other summer, in the l970’s, we lived just north of Northern off fifteenth Avenue. The rains had again been unrelenting. The ground was saturated and the canals couldn’t handle all the runoff and were starting to overflow. One Saturday morning we were awakened as police cars drove through the neighborhood. They were shouting on loud speakers, “Attention, prepare to evacuate.” It was kind of scary; what to take and where to go?

Fortunately, again the rain stopped and the canal waters started to subside.

Could it happen again in our valley, who knows?