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Grandma Woolum stood less that five feet tall, but her hands and feet and, the doctors told her, her internal organs, were the size of a woman fully grown. I say fully grown because Grandma had an accident when she was very young that broke her back. It healed poorly. She had a hump. It was as if the inches that could have gone to height, went to this hump.
I always think of Grandma Woolum's tiny frame when I remember her and think of her little house on East Bridgeport Avenue in Spokane and how we always arrived at her house by taking Trent to Mission to Hamilton and soon after Hamilton turned into Nevada we turned left and Grandma's house was just past Cincinnati.
Those Spokane street names introduced me to poetry, with their meter and rhythm and what they came to stand for as images and associations in my memory because of the A & W at the Hamilton/Nevada interchange and the brick Dry Cleaner at the corner of Nevada and Bridgeport and seeing the Washington Water Power offices on Mission not far, it seemed at the time, from the original Spokane Community College building, which didn't seem to look that different from the Water Power building.
Somehow, for me, coming from Kellogg, everything in Spokane seemed magical. J.J. Newberry's was downtown and carried the toys advertised my Miss Florence on Romper Room. I coudn't believe that I could actually lay eyes on the Do Bee and Don't Bee toys that were on television in the morning.
The Christmas display at the Crescent rivalled anthing on Fifth Avenue to me.
Spokane was so big you could park in a building with levels, with stories. It boggled my mind.
I thought the dry cleaner on Bridgeport and the gallon of root beer we bought had to be better than anything in Kellogg and thought the same about white bread from Rosauers and the cotton candy from this little shop in Northtown.
I bring up how magical all things Spokane seemed to me because the object in Grandma's house that had cast a spell on me, unbelievably, was her telephone. In Kellogg, our number prefix was Sunset...our phone number was SU 45093. Spokane had several prefixes: HU was Hudson, FA was Fairfax, RI was Riverside, CH was Chesnut, KE was Keystone, WH was Whitworth, MO was Moran, WA was Walnut. Were there were more? It was more poetry, another exotic thing about Spokane.
I could remember phone numbers from Spokane television so easily because of those prefixes. "When you need coal or oil, Call Boyle: Fairfax 81521. FA 81521.
I never ordered a drop of oil from Boyle, but thanks to Starlit Stairway and Boyle's sponsorship and thanks to that great prefix name, Fairfax, I'll probably remember that number when on my death bed, even if dementia keeps me from remembering my own wife's name.
I'd arrive at Grandma's and before long I'd start playing with the telephone. It had a long, long cord so I could carry it from her buffet, where the phone rested, to the nearby living room, and dial randomly. Grandma's rotary dial had a different friction than ours at home. It seemed to go from Zero back to the start position with leisure and with a sound I enjoyed.
I loved to read the Spokane Yellow pages and dial numbers. I was fascinated that Spokane had so many phone numbers.
Even more, I was fascinated that I could dial a number and a voice told me the time. It was a woman's voice and her voice seemed to come from another part of the USA. It was a lilting voice. She spoke time with the same grace I would later hear Eudora Welty read fiction.
She gave the time three times a minute: "At the tone, the time will be, seven twenty-seven and twenty seconds; at the tone the time will be seven twenty-seven and forty seconds; (then my favorite) at the tone, the time will be seven twenty-eight, EXACTLY. I loved her authority, her certainty, her enthusiasm when she said EXACTLY.
Even to this day, if one of the kids asks me if I know what time it is, I'll say "At the tone, the time will be, eight oh eight....EXACTLY!"
I laugh.
No one else gets it.
But it takes me back to those great street names in Spokane: Sharp, Euclid, Addison, Courtland, Wellsley, Boone and to the Listerine smell in Grandma's bathroom, which was located right off the kitchen, about three feet from her kitchen table, to the Presto Logs she burned in her kitchen trash burner and the other great memories of Grandma's house.
These memories are tied inexplicably to Grandma's big black rotary telephone and the thick Spokane phone book and those great prefixes. EXACTLY!
I always think of Grandma Woolum's tiny frame when I remember her and think of her little house on East Bridgeport Avenue in Spokane and how we always arrived at her house by taking Trent to Mission to Hamilton and soon after Hamilton turned into Nevada we turned left and Grandma's house was just past Cincinnati.
Those Spokane street names introduced me to poetry, with their meter and rhythm and what they came to stand for as images and associations in my memory because of the A & W at the Hamilton/Nevada interchange and the brick Dry Cleaner at the corner of Nevada and Bridgeport and seeing the Washington Water Power offices on Mission not far, it seemed at the time, from the original Spokane Community College building, which didn't seem to look that different from the Water Power building.
Somehow, for me, coming from Kellogg, everything in Spokane seemed magical. J.J. Newberry's was downtown and carried the toys advertised my Miss Florence on Romper Room. I coudn't believe that I could actually lay eyes on the Do Bee and Don't Bee toys that were on television in the morning.
The Christmas display at the Crescent rivalled anthing on Fifth Avenue to me.
Spokane was so big you could park in a building with levels, with stories. It boggled my mind.
I thought the dry cleaner on Bridgeport and the gallon of root beer we bought had to be better than anything in Kellogg and thought the same about white bread from Rosauers and the cotton candy from this little shop in Northtown.
I bring up how magical all things Spokane seemed to me because the object in Grandma's house that had cast a spell on me, unbelievably, was her telephone. In Kellogg, our number prefix was Sunset...our phone number was SU 45093. Spokane had several prefixes: HU was Hudson, FA was Fairfax, RI was Riverside, CH was Chesnut, KE was Keystone, WH was Whitworth, MO was Moran, WA was Walnut. Were there were more? It was more poetry, another exotic thing about Spokane.
I could remember phone numbers from Spokane television so easily because of those prefixes. "When you need coal or oil, Call Boyle: Fairfax 81521. FA 81521.
I never ordered a drop of oil from Boyle, but thanks to Starlit Stairway and Boyle's sponsorship and thanks to that great prefix name, Fairfax, I'll probably remember that number when on my death bed, even if dementia keeps me from remembering my own wife's name.
I'd arrive at Grandma's and before long I'd start playing with the telephone. It had a long, long cord so I could carry it from her buffet, where the phone rested, to the nearby living room, and dial randomly. Grandma's rotary dial had a different friction than ours at home. It seemed to go from Zero back to the start position with leisure and with a sound I enjoyed.
I loved to read the Spokane Yellow pages and dial numbers. I was fascinated that Spokane had so many phone numbers.
Even more, I was fascinated that I could dial a number and a voice told me the time. It was a woman's voice and her voice seemed to come from another part of the USA. It was a lilting voice. She spoke time with the same grace I would later hear Eudora Welty read fiction.
She gave the time three times a minute: "At the tone, the time will be, seven twenty-seven and twenty seconds; at the tone the time will be seven twenty-seven and forty seconds; (then my favorite) at the tone, the time will be seven twenty-eight, EXACTLY. I loved her authority, her certainty, her enthusiasm when she said EXACTLY.
Even to this day, if one of the kids asks me if I know what time it is, I'll say "At the tone, the time will be, eight oh eight....EXACTLY!"
I laugh.
No one else gets it.
But it takes me back to those great street names in Spokane: Sharp, Euclid, Addison, Courtland, Wellsley, Boone and to the Listerine smell in Grandma's bathroom, which was located right off the kitchen, about three feet from her kitchen table, to the Presto Logs she burned in her kitchen trash burner and the other great memories of Grandma's house.
These memories are tied inexplicably to Grandma's big black rotary telephone and the thick Spokane phone book and those great prefixes. EXACTLY!
7 comments:
Oh yes, the phone was great! There are so many memories from Grandma's house. Thanks for helping me remember more.
I feel like I am eavesdropping, reading your memories and those of your sisters. Thanks for sharing :)
I can still taste that cold, foamy rootbeer from that jug we returned and got refilled at the A & W. Great post. Thanks for helping me remember other slices of life.
I heart the A&W as well, with the jugs of rootbeer and the toy that came for a root bear shaped cooke jar thing......root beer floats....ohhhh I miss Kansas....
Another transporting post. I don't remember a time before three digit area codes, when even telephone numbers contained poetry (unless you count 867-5309, which any child of the eighties will tell you is the coolest and most poetic phone number ever!)
Thanks for sharing with us. I would love to read a book by you.
I remember being a child in Kellogg and visiting my dads aunt who lived in Spokane. It seemed like such a huge city back then. I'll never forget that we took a cab ride and my aunt made the cab driver turn around because he was taking the farthest route. That was an early lesson for me that people could be dishonest.
Just out of the blue, I was wondering if the Boyle Oil was still in business. I had their tv ad going through my head (must be a boring day, LOL) so I had to google it to see if they still existed. Found your blog and enjoyed reading it. Brought back memories of being a kid again in North Central Washington. Spokane TV stations covered most of the eastern part of the state I think.
Thanks!
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