A series of essays….
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SUMMER NIGHTS AND BONNIE DOON ICE CREAM WENT SO WELL TOGETHER |
….as seen through my eyes!
By: Jacqueline E Hughes
Mom didn’t drive and never had a license. Dad said he could never teach her and life was too short to even try. This coming from a man who traveled extensively for his job, often leaving his wife and young children for five days at a time.
I was too young to question my father’s motives, but later learned that, in many cases, the mentality and social norm of the 1950’s was to keep a wife as dependent upon her male counterpart as much as possible. Our Mom often sacrificed her own needs in her quest to pacify everyone else in our small pack. And, even though we missed him, Dad worked hard to provide for us even if it meant being away much of the time.
Our own two feet, a bicycle (depending on the Indiana weather), and the local bus system became our good friends. Seriously, my older brother, Ronnie, and I did walk to school in South Bend, over a mile away, come rain, shine, snow, and freezing cold.
Mom decided to treat my brothers and me to a hamburger supper, replete with French fries, an abundance of individual ketchup and mustard packets (we were easily amused), and our personal choice of milkshake flavor. Bonnie Doon Drive-In sat about a mile from our front door and was settled and established in 1941 on one of Mishawaka’s main thoroughfares, Lincoln Way West.
Dad, being on a business trip, afforded Mom no better option than to send my older brother on his shiny English Racer, up to Bonnie Doon to purchase our special meal. I recall her pulling out a small, leather wallet from her purse that was setting on a dining room chair and handing Ronnie several paper bills. He neatly folded the bills and carefully placed them in one of his front bluejean pockets.
Slipping deftly onto the narrow saddle, pride resonating on his handsome face, our eleven-year-old hero was on a mission of importance; he was to bring, not only, sustenance to his family, but joy, as well via his responsibility of being the current ‘man of the household.’
Mom having a driver’s license would have been very useful right about then, but a cellphone would have been the icing on the cake, the cherry on top! Communication was a burgeoning commodity back in the mid 1950’s when technology was slithering its way into the daily routine of the American lifestyle. By the time my brother returned home, quite a bit later and a little worse for wear, with a sad story to tell, our Mother took one look at his face and hugged his narrow frame for several minutes before releasing him, tears in her eyes.
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THE PROVERBIAL CHERRY ON TOP! |
He saved the milkshakes. He rescued the fries and condiments. However, the hamburgers were not so lucky. His skinny bike tires lost their grip on the gravel along the side of the road and down he tumbled, supper and all. While reaching for the cardboard carton of shakes and the bag of fries in his front basket, the greasy burger bag exploded upon contact with the ground, ripping open and tossing meat patties, small chunks of onion, and lettuce and tomato all over the side of the street. He had made it almost half of the way home.
To this day, I envision my brother reconstructing the sandwiches as best he could while pulling cinders and grit from the glutinous mess and then flopping the top bun back in place. With tears in his eyes, instantly replacing the pride he felt only seconds before, and an explanation of it all being carefully formulated in his head, he rode his racer home feeling like a defeated warrior bringing a single rabbit back to feed his tribe after an 8-point buck had eluded him.
Well, our rabbit stew turned-out to be rather tasty! Who doesn’t love a thick milkshake accompanied by fries? Sitting around our red and white, chrome-legged dining table, talking and laughing together, was the cherry-on-the-top, after all. And we were still able to rip open those cute packets, squeeze their contents onto the paper plate, and dip our crispy fries into the sweet tasting ketchup.
Life’s lessons touched all of us that day—so long ago. With a twist of fate, Ronnie learned that pride can be fleeting when humility knocks on your door. Mom realized that rewarding her son’s best efforts meant as much as if he had successfully accomplished the mission. Her love and understanding put things in their proper order. Respect for my older brother rose quite a few notches as I began to understand that life can get into the way of practical thinking more often then we thought. And, we all understood the importance of family just a little bit better as we sat around the table that evening, together.
This story is meant to be continued…
Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes
All rights reserved
