No, Blaine, but thanks for doing it now. I don't think you will mind if I include it in my SamKat blog today- www.skegley.blogspot.com.
I turned 75 on November 13, 2007, five years ahead of you. My good friend, Ronnie Walters (PHS 51) will be 77, this year, just a year younger than me. I mention Ronnie for two reasons; 1- his birthday coming up, and 2- in a recent reminiscence of mine of all of our friends up and down and near McConnell Ave. and Vinton, I forgot to mention him and, as one of my best friends, I never ever should have forgotten to mention Ronnie.
I share so much of your things and, of course, we both shared the "Cultral Center of Our Universe- Portsmouth, Ohio. Now, that is culture if Tom Sawyer ever had any, isn't it?
You are good, Blaine and I always appreciate you and your writing!
Sam
----- Original Message -----
From: Blaine Bierley
To: Sam Kegley
Sent: Thursday, October 21, 2010 06:26
Subject: Did I send this to you?
“A Bit of Reflection”
There are those landmarks in your life. I think I have a pretty good grasp of what they are. I believe they are when you start elementary school, when you become a teenager, when you go on your first date, when you graduate from high school, when you get your first “real” job, when you get married, when your first child is born, and, perhaps, the ultimate, when you turn 70.
I hit that one on December 30, 2007. I had been retired for twelve years at that point in my life. I have lived in eight decades and in two different centuries. I believe I was born at just about the perfect time. One of my earliest memories is listening to the radio. I grew up listening to shows like “Amos ‘n’ Andy”, “Duffy’s Tavern”, “Edgar Bergan and Charlie McCarthy”, “Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons”, “Smilin’ Ed’s Buster Brown Gang”, and “Suspense.” I believe I developed my imagination during those years. The first TV set I ever saw was at a neighbor’s house. The screen was small, and the station in Huntington, West Virginia, was only on a few hours a day. The kids in the neighborhood would gather together to watch first the Test Pattern and then enjoy the likes of “Howdy Doody” and “Space Cadets”.
The best part of those times was playing with friends in the Woodrow Wilson Elementary School neighborhood. We would play baseball at the park down at Labold Field in the spring and summer and switch to tackle football in the fall. We also enjoyed flying kites, riding our bicycles, and fishing in the Ohio River. Good old Boy Scout Troop 22 at the First Nazarene Church on Brown Street provided a great education for a young boy.
I was 13 when I got my first “real” job. I helped Jake Lovenguth, our Ideal Milk Company route man, deliver milk (in glass bottles) on Saturdays over across the U. S. Grant Bridge in South Portsmouth and Greenup, Kentucky.
Some of my favorite places were: the Maple Grove Confectionery, down at the end of Jackson Avenue where it intersects with Offner Street, where you could get a great sno cone in the summertime for only a dime. Mr. Book’s store (“As you go by, don’t go by, stop by and buy”) on Jackson Avenue, which had a huge selection of comic books on a big wall rack. Mr. and Mrs. Bard’s little store at the intersection of Charles and Brown Streets, where people bought their candy, cigarettes, and the Sunday News. It was the drop off spot for the Portsmouth Times’ route in our neighborhood of Charles and Williams Streets and Jackson Avenue. There was also the C & Bi (“See & Buy”) Shoppe on Jackson Avenue where you could get a fountain Coke and the representative from the Duncan Yo Yo Company would carve your initials in the yo yo if you bought one there.
Most any white kid growing up in Portsmouth in the early 1950s would happily remember the Terrace Club below the Kendall Avenue hill, where you could swim all day for a quarter or so. On our way home from the swimming pool, before we walked over the Harmon Street Viaduct, we would stop at Bill Ginnetti’s Blue Pig Inn on Gallia Street for a frozen mug of wonderful A & W root beer for only a nickel.
It would be impossible not to remember the great downtown Portsmouth movie theaters of our era, all on Gallia Street, that influenced our growing up: the Lyric, the Columbia, and the LaRoy. They had wonderful Saturday matinees with both popcorn and movie candy available to eat.
I went to Wilson School for eight years. I walked to and from school four times a day, every day. We played on a boy/girl segregated black-topped playground, and the supervising teacher rang a large hand-held bell when it was time for us to come in from recess. We had great teachers at Wilson. Our principal, R. J. Brooker, brooked no nonsense when it came to discipline at the school, and he was also a great science teacher.
Looking back at spending four years at Portsmouth High School (I graduated in 1955) forces me to admit that it was an exceptional school. We had, for the most part, dedicated faculty and administrators, intelligent students, exceptional athletes, and a supporting community. To this day, I count myself fortunate to have attended PHS.
Blaine Bierley
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