Love Sade, sixties soul, seventies rock, and all jazz. Worked as a commercial photographer at JL Hudsons in Detroit and continue photography as a hobby. Major hobbies are collecting old stuff from the 20s and restoring old racing bicycles. Joining the navy many years later, I was able to put my shoe shining skills to use, always having the best shined shoes in my recruit company.įredric Durrette served one tour in Vietnam, retired as E8 in the navy submarine service after 23 years. Higgins bicycle one Christmas, I chucked my shoe shine box and signed up to deliver newspapers. When Santa finally answered my requests and delivered a brand new J. Many adults started using special shine fluids that ruined your shoes when they got wet. Whereas before, the shoe shine stand was a place to extend friendly conversation about world affairs or sports, it was now just a place to get a quick shine. I can remember when the unionized shoe shiners even began wearing their own style of uniforms. Men working the railroad terminal became unionized and wouldn’t even allow us to set up outside of the terminal. As the price increased, more adult men suddenly got into the shoe shining business. Over time, however, adults started getting into the shoeshine business and prices increased. Men were extremely proud of their shoes that were genuine leather and probably Italian or brands like Florsheims. Trousers had to have razor sharp creases, and shoes had to be polished. In those days, adult men were very conscious of how they looked in public. Sometimes, we’d pack our boxes and just set up on a corner of a busy street near the local bar. Competition was high at these two sites, however, it was first come, first served, or who was the tougher to get a spot on the sidewalk just outside of the terminal. Then there was the Greyhound bus station and the Michigan Central railroad train terminal. My local barber shop had a chair set up where you could shine the shoes of the customers after they got their hair cut. If you had a bicycle, you could try to get a paper route. Love Sade, sixties soul, seventies rock, and all jazz.As a poor kid in Detroit, there were several ways to earn a little pocket change. You felt like you were growing up when you got your first pair of real gloves to replace the awful mittens your mom would make you wear.įredric Durrette served one tour in Vietnam, retired as E8 in the navy submarine service after 23 years. We built snowmen in the yard and had snowball fights. In the winter, mom made ice cream from the snow and we played outside until our fingers were numb. We went to the movies in groups, sometimes with as many as seven or eight, it made the scary movies more fun and you had someone to walk home with when it got dark. Kids would crowd around a patrol car when it came into the neighborhood. Neighbors watched out for us and if ole lady Byers down the street caught me doing something improper, she’d grab me by the ear and drag me home where my mom would make me get my own switch. Our parents always seemed to know what we were doing without even looking. We played in the streets until dark when the street lights came on, then, we could play around the house until bed time. Usually, when the fight was over, it meant a trip to the candy store together or just sharing another candy bar. And you NEVER kicked someone when they were down. Back in the 1950s Detroit, before Walmart Super Stores, big chain supermarkets and packaged meat, you got your meat from a butcher shop. If you knocked your opponent down, you reached out your hand to help him back up. You never used a weapon, that was cowardly. However, even fighting had it’s own code. However, if he disgraced your mother, it meant a fight. We played the dozens with each other, a game where you’d talk down your buddy. If a friend was at your house at dinner time, you always invited them to dinner. You never cursed or used profanity on Sundays, you shared your candy with your friends even if it meant only getting a tiny piece of the Babe Ruth bar you just bought. Pity the unfortunate neighbor who had planted watermelons. We never stole anything, but a neighbors cherry or peach tree was open season. We did fun things like exploring empty lots, laying in the grass making animals out of passing clouds, catching insects, playing cowboys and Indians, building rocket ships, making rubber band guns from clothes pins, and prowling allies for discarded “hidden treasures”. Growing up in a poor neighborhood in Detroit in the early fifties, our neighborhood gang was composed of Black kids as well as the kids of European immigrants and there was even the girl next door that hung out with us for a while.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |