“Memorials are part of everyday life”

By

Gerry Niskern

Memorial Day has many meanings for each of us. Kids think of a fun-filled break from school and adults look forward to a long weekend; perhaps they plan a barbecue or out of town trip.   They might see a few spots on TV reminding the public of special ceremonies planned around the valley to honor the American soldiers killed in war.  Unless their family has been directly affected by war, the significance is lost.

How many children are given any quiet time with their parents to discuss the meaning of and ask questions about Memorial Day? Have you considered taking your family to a service at one of the many memorials held to honor the fallen soldiers from our past wars on the state capitol grounds?

Of course, adults realize it is not just the war heroes that are honored on Memorial Day. When I was growing up, it was called Decoration Day and it honored all that had passed away. There are also ceremonies by family members spending time and placing flowers on graves of mom, dads and siblings who are no longer with them.  If the children are included it is a wonderful opportunity to relate some stories about the kind of life the departed once lived.  In other words, it’s a day to remember.

Be prepared, you will probably get a flood of questions. Most kids are waiting for someone to start the dialogue. When you spend time remembering the ones who have passed this way ahead of us, important lessons between right and wrong will emerge. The children will begin to realize who is respected in the family and why. They will understand the consequence of choices made in the past.

It occurs to me that there are other ways we honor departed members of our family. Some lucky offspring have inherited useful, everyday objects from their parents and continue to use them in the daily routine of their everyday lives.  Family stories usually go along with them. Children learn to cherish the intrinsic value of family tools.

I used to visit an elderly friend who still utilized a kitchen table her father built. It was an honor to share lunch there on that labor of love. Many great stories went along with those lunches.

One of the most important possessions of every homemaker used to be the button box.  All buttons were saved and used to match up with others on newly sewn garments. On rainy days when boredom set in, it was a special privilege to be allowed to play with the button box. Family stories went along with each button.

Quilting has become a big craze in the last few years, but lucky is the family who has a totally handmade quilt passed down through generations. “That blue was scraps from Mary’s graduation dress” or “There is Johnny’s red shirt from his first day at school”. History continued from one generation to the next in simple patterns that formed a loving continuity.

If someone offers you a family possession that doesn’t fit in with your décor, take it, cherish it and put it away for now.  You’ll find a place for it eventually, or someday one of your children will treasure and love it After all, the word that unites all families is, “Remember!”

My new/old friend Julius

By

Gerry Niskern

“Make new friends, but keep the old,

One is silver, the other gold.”

(an old traditional Girl Scout Song)

I met Julian Reveles six years ago at the Annual Phoenix Union High School picnic. He was the very talented MC every year. Then later, we ran into each other at A Js.

We both had been going there almost every morning but had never met. He always worked at a particular table. He was writing a memoir about his life growing up in Phoenix. I was sitting  at the other end of the outdoor patio working on my newspaper column.

That all changed because we both loved to talk, a lot. Because we both grew up here, over the next few years we had many good natured arguments about the location of certain buildings, “back then”. I claimed to be right because I  was three years older. He never conceded.

We both remembered how much fun the  rodeo parades  down Central Ave in April were. We compared the three five and dime stores, Newberrys, Kresses, and Woolworths. We both experienced the excitement  of the giant Christmas tree the City of Phoenix erected every year in the center of Central and Washington streets.

Saturday movies were a common bond; I mentioned the Strand and Rialto and he remembered going to the Romona and others. We compared different teachers at Phoenix Union and the separate  experiences we had at the high school. One topic led to another and each conversation was really “to be continued.”

Julian told me about his work in broadcasting. He spoke of interviewing Ted Kennedy once. In later years when I knew him,  he was giving lectures about Movies, Latino culture and Arizona history. I heard him speak once  at a meeting of the First Family organization. He was a member also and told many  humorous stories of his large extended family.

Julian is gone now and everyone will miss talking with him and I will too.

I wasn’t finished.

Know Any good Soda Jerks?

By

Gerry Niskern

When you get that craving for something special in an ice cream concoction you need to see your local Soda Jerk. Sometimes a sundae, soda, float or just a cone will do.

Actually, no one seems to know how the term “Soda Jerk” came about. The word jerk just means someone who works putting things together with lots of energy. Somehow the word got attached to local kids, usually teenage boys, who worked behind the soda fountain in the local drugstore.

I remember the thrill of sharing a chocolate soda with my mother. I don’t know how old I was, but I had to stand up in the booth to reach the tip of the straw. The booths were in a little room in the back of the Drug Store (probably great for dating couples). What made our adventure more exciting was the fact that mom always cautioned me, “ Now remember, don’t tell your sister!” Sister was older and in school.

I never told.

When we moved to Phoenix, the Capitol Drugstore, on the corner of l7th Avenue and West Jefferson was close to us. Ice cream and candy wasn’t available during the war, but if I had a nickel I got a lemon coke from the soda fountain.

Lots of office staff strolled the long diagonal sidewalks from the State Capitol over to the corner and across to the drugstore for lunch. In those days it was rumored that more than a few political deals were worked out over the marble counter at the soda fountain by state legislators.

The last soda fountain I discovered was at the McAlpine Diner and Soda Fountain located at 2303 N. 7^th St, here in Phoenix. Some of my friends from the P. U. H. S. class of 50 wanted to meet there for lunch a while back. A few of them who grew up on the East side had always gone there after school for ice cream. Being a West side girl I had never heard of McAlpines, but immediately fell  in love with  everything about it. The original old drugstore décor and ice cream specialties. They had to close during Covid, but will be opening up in the next few weeks.

Try it, who knows? You might even see a Soda Jerk.

My Mother Gave to Me

By

Gerry Niskern

There is a photo in the bottom of my jewelry box. It’s there for safekeeping because it’s the only one ever taken of my mother when she was a child. It was snapped when she was around ten years old. She has on a black dress, a little too large and a big ribbon on the back of her head. When you come from a family of thirteen and you are the youngest girl, no one is likely to be taking your photograph.

She grew up working helping her crippled mother and continued to work hard all of her life. When she started highschool, she made the basketball team and loved it. However, Her mother kept her home to help too many times( this was often the lot of youngest daughters) and she was dropped from the basketball team. That’s when she became so discouraged that she dropped out of school and started working in a factory.

When she became a mother herself, she gave my sister and me all the things she never had: pretty dresses, Christmas toys, hair ribbons, birthday parties and plenty of time to play. But she also gave us plenty of guidance in self-deciplilne and good morals.

When I was expecting my first child, she gave me the respect of acknowledging that I was prepared and I would be fine! That, I’m sure, gave me confidence. She didn’t move in to help. She also didn’t offer advice unless I asked for some. She did give me some help when I asked what to do when the first baby sported a new tooth and decided to bite while nursing.  (trade secret)

Mom delighted in the grandkids as they came along. Between my sister and I there was a grandchild every year for four years when my mom finally said, “Hey, lets all take a break! “ Two more arrived after that. She enjoyed every minute of the grandchildren and the only unsolicited advice she gave me was that they should have liver once a week, for the iron. (something for which they have never quite forgiven her).

This woman, who gave so much of herself, ran a family business along with my dad. She did her own laundry, cleaned her own house, washed both vehicles every Saturday and also baked two  pies. She picked the kids upon weekends and planned all kinds of fun. She took them hiking and made sure they learned the words to the Marine’s Hymn and the Army song, which she lead them in singing as they hiked. Strawberry picking every year, when the fields in Glendale were opened to the public, was a must to do lesson in work and fun combined. The kids loved picking the berries and of course, when they got home, she made some shortcake to enjoy with the freshly washed berries and a little cold milk poured over the top.

When the grandkids grew older she gave them the opportunity to work in their business on weekends and during summer vacation. She expected them to work, but they had fun at house in the evenings too.

Of all the gifts my mother gave me, the one of understanding what it meant to be a mother was the best. My kids came along in the fifties before all the early childhood vaccinations were discovered. As my oldest child attended Kindergarten she brought home to her two younger brothers, Chicken Pox, Measles, and Mumps. This was also the same winter that the Asian flu was rampant in the country.  When the worst was over but they were still puffy with the mumps and red with the measles, she arrived on our doorstep with her overnight case and said, ”You two pack your bag and get out of here for the weekend. . I’ll stay with the kids, they’ll be fine.”

I hit the door running and never looked back!

Untitled

By

Gerry Niskern

My Mom  was a coal miner’s daughter and my Dad was a times-study engineer in the administration of a large glass factory back East. As you can imagine I overheard many debates on the pro and con of unions when I was growing up.

President Biden’s words in his State of the Union speech about unions creating the middle America brought back some of my memories.

I remember seeing men covered in black coal  dust, especially their black faces, trudging up the street after their shift at the local mine. My mom used to talk about her job as a child of helping her mother drag out the two big tubs and filling them with hot water for my grandfather’s bath after work.

But when  I was a teen and we visited back to our little home town, one simple thing, among many big vital issues, like wages and safety codes, had changed. The mining companies had to provide showers for the miners to use after their shift. The men coming home were freshly showered and had on clean clothes. My grandmother would have loved that!

Progress was made after the formation of the UMWA. But only after long strikes and bitter fights. My grandmother always said, “ The men went out on strike for three or four months every year and ran up huge household bills. Then we spend the rest of the year paying off our debts.”  But each time the union  made a little more progress. The same was true of the other unions fighting for better wages and working conditions in the United States.

The definition of unions changed over the history of our country. Early on the guild-like associations formed to protect their tradesman with special skills. Much like unions today who demand specific skills of their members and joining fees of thousands of dollars.

But the ordinary workers in many industries need wage and safety protection and the desire for unions is growing.  The right to organize has had much legislation passed over the history of our country and there are hard struggles to come.

So yes, the major unions, and smaller ones too, made the American Middle class, but it was a long hard battle. It wasn’t easy and it won’t be again.