By

Gerry Niskern

“April fool!” Can you remember hearing those words as a kid after one of your friends pulled a really good April Fool joke on you?

When most of us were children the best April Fool jokes were ones that we could pull were the simple ones we thought of our self. There were no props involved. Just our creative minds conjuring up an outrageous fact that surprisingly was believable; at least to our most gullible friends.

There are all kinds of props advertised online to use for April Fool jokes. Those are fine, but a little creativity is the most satisfying.

No one knows exactly where or when April Fools day started and why, but since the 1700’s, it seems every country has an April Fools day. Sometimes it is called All Fools Day.  So watch out Monday. Nothing you hear is credible. Check everything out. There is always a predictable internet hoax by some corporations to fool their customers.

I remember one April Fool’s Day during unusually hot weather, a radio host in Phoenix, told his audience about a misting system planned by the city. It would be strung high above all the sidewalks. The system would use reconstituted water from the sewers and would cost the city virtually nothing in water bills. Surprisingly, a large segment of his listeners believed it and flooded the city’s phone lines with indignant protests.

Of course, I have to tell you one of my best April Fool’s Day jokes. We were having a terrible storm for April. Cold wind and rain that turned into “unheard of” ;light snow briefly here in Phoenix. We lived on the top of a little mountain at the end of 14^th street, with a long, steep driveway. I called my grandson, aged eleven, and told him the neighborhood kids were having a blast skiing down our driveway. He begged him mom to drive him over and it took her a while to convince him I was “April Fooling” him.

“On This Corner” # 4

By

Gerry Niskern

A gray granite building stands on the southeast corner of Central Ave and Monroe. Back in the l940’s, if your mother took you to the doctor or dentist, chances are his office was in that multi-storied Professional building that was the pride of valley residents.

When I was growing up in Phoenix the lobby of the Valley National Bank occupied that corner space.

I loved to make the trip uptown on the streetcar with mom when she deposited my dad’s paycheck. Together we pushed open the massive beveled glass and brass doors to the bank lobby. Polished marble covered the floor and walls of the elegant room with breathtaking high ceilings.

I don’t know why, but everyone spoke in hushed tones. While she waited in line for a teller, I clicked my heels across the marble floor to my favorite spot. I stood in front of a large wall mounted relief map of Arizona. I studied the mountains and valleys of our state with fascination because each town was designated by a gemstone. I longed to reach out and touch the red, blue and green stones and remember stealing furtive glances at the white haired bank guard who always stood beside the map. I thought his job was to guard those stones in the map!

The personnel offices for the bank were on one of the upper floors. I applied for my first job there. The Valley National Bank turned out to be a great place to work in the early l950’s.  There were only a couple of drawbacks. During Rodeo time when the vigilante for the Jaycees came up to “arrest” any of the girls who were not in western wear during rodeo week. They didn’t hesitate to drag out the girls who were hiding in the restroom.  Also, the vice-president requested a kiss from each of the girls in the office when he passed out their paychecks twice a month. Needless to say, the MeTooMovement hadn’t been heard of back then!

Years later,  my little toddler and I pushed open the heavy glass doors together.  I carried a heavy paper sack full of pennies from her piggy bank into the lobby. We were there to open her first savings account. But this time, I stood in line while she wandered over to look at the brilliant map. I was happy to see the same white-haired guard was still there guarding my precious stones!

I wrote this several years ago when the sculpture was first installed. Soon after ASU opened a  downtown campus and students could be seen relaxing and enjoying the grassy spot below “Her name is patience”. Now, I’ve just learned my great-granddaughter will be attending classes at the ASU Nursing School. I’m sure she will be enjoying the beautiful and unique sculpture too.!

“The Sky is Blooming!”

By

Gerry Niskern

Have you seen it? The sky is blooming in downtown Phoenix. The city workers just installed the floating sculpture, by Janet Echelman, over the new Civic Space that’s North of Van Buren between 1^st Avenue and Central.

“Sky Bloom”, as we’ve grown accustomed to calling the art piece that is 100 feet wide, stands about 100 feet in the air.  It’s official name is “Her secret is patience,” from an Emerson poem.

Turns out the title is appropriate since the installation was delayed a few times. The first attempt to install the 600 pounds of flexible netting was aborted when it was discovered it didn’t fit the two steel rings to which it would be attached. It was sent back for refitting.

Then this morning, the day before Easter, as the crew gathered, heavy rain started. Later the sun came thru and caught the variegated colors of blue as the wind moved and shaped the ever changing sculpture as it was installed by daring young men in buckets on very long booms!

My resident historian and I drove down and watched. Of course, there was some grumbling from my partner on the way. “It will never go over with the public. They better sew an address tag on it.  The  state that it blows to will know where to send it back”

We’ve all heard the numerous complaints from the naysayers. “The city should have just put up a shade screen over the park!” and “It’s going to rot in the sun; won’t last ten years and it will have to be replaced!”

I had heard the same kind of complaining at home when the city announced the Light Rail project.  “They’re just streetcars. We had them before and never should have gotten rid of them”. The grumbling continued. “The sculpture money should have been spent on other things”. Of course, he really knows that the money was not part of the General Fund and was set aside for the Arts and had to be used for that.

Phoenix joins many cities around the world who have commissioned Echelman to create large, fabric sculptures to enhance their public spaces.  Google her, if you haven’t already, and learn about the other cities and see the other iconic pieces she has created.

Light from the sun and synthetic light by night casts line drawings on those underneath and passersby, making them an active part of the piece. And as one young man was heard to pronounce, “At least it’s not another statue of a dead guy”.

No matter where you live in the valley, come to downtown Phoenix and see our “sky in bloom”.

Take the streetcar.

“My Mother, the Investment  Banker”

by

Gerry Niskern

Have you been to your bank lately? Do you even know where your bank is located this week? Whether you live in Paradise Valley or Peoria, It’s hard to keep track of your money when the name of your bank changes as often as Arizona’s spring weather.

My mother, like the mothers in most families, controlled the purse strings. When I was a child I loved to accompany her to the Valley National  Bank at the corner of Central Avenue and Monroe in downtown Phoenix. There were no handy branch banks anywhere in the valley nor had anyone heard of  “drive-in banking.”

Together, we pushed the ten-foot high polished brass door open. The entire inside bank lobby was shining marble. I was allowed to wander around, heels clicking on the slick floor, while the adults conducted their business in hushed tones. I invariably headed straight for the large copper topographic map of Arizona mounted on one wall. A different precious gem marked each town.   Just as I was getting up the nerve to reach out and touch one of the beautiful stones, Mom was ready to leave.

She meticulously counted out her bills and never failed to remind me that her mother, my grandmother, had always kept her money pinned in a handkerchief to her apron pocket. It was handy to pay the insurance man when he came to collect on her nickel life insurance policies each week. Also, Grandma could easily slip a few dollars to a newly married son who had been laid off at work.

Distrust of banks seemed to run in her family. My grandma and grandpa both had long suspected the other of hoarding secret savings. Try as they might, neither could find the other’s loot. One morning before dawn, the smell of smoke filled the neighborhood. Seeing the haystack on fire, Grandma, nightgown flapping behind, set a new record for the hundred-yard dash. She grabbed a pitchfork and rescued her cache of bills hidden deep in the hay. After that she had to find a new hiding place.

As the years went by and I left home, the task of banking for the small family business was my mother’s.  One day, at my urging, she decided to try the new drive-thru window. She had her deposit slip all filled out. She pulled in and reached for the shiny new cylinder. She turned it this way and that way. She twisted the top…looked for a slot in the side. Finally, in frustration, she told us later, she put the can back in its’ place, backed her car out and went home.

Mom was willing to try anything once. When the new ATM machines were installed in front of the bank she gave it a whirl. She inserted her card and withdrew twenty dollars. When the twenty came forward in the slot she decided to be very efficient and record it in her checkbook first. Then, as she reached for the twenty, it was just disappearing back into the slot. The pushed to withdraw twenty dollars again. This time she got her money, but the receipt read twenty dollars overdrawn!

A few years later on cold, blustery day Mom decided it would be a convenient time to give the drive through window another chance. The transaction went well. When her cylinder came back with the cash from her check, she inadvertently grabbed it by the catch and dropped it. Bills flew off in the wind and coins rolled everywhere. She pulled forward in order to get out of the car and then crawled on her hands and knees to retrievthe cash. She placed the forlorn cylinder, totally flat after being crushed by her rear tire, back on the stand and drove off midst the blare of car horns.

After that incident, she was heard to remark, “Maybe keeping your money pinned in your apron pocket wasn’t such a bad idea after all!”