| Biographical Non-Fiction posted June 27, 2024 | Chapters: |
...26 27 -28- 29... 
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Life in 1944 in Mississippi
A chapter in the book At Home in Mississippi
Family Outings and Planned Trip
by BethShelby
My folks weren’t people who did things for entertainment. They seldom went to a movie. In fact, I can only recall my mom and dad seeing two movies together. I stayed with my grandparents on those occasions. I don’t remember ever being at a movie with Dad. They went to see "Gone with the Wind" when it came out in 1940. I wasn’t even three, but I can still remember them discussing the movie stars.
I also remember them once going to see the Grand Ole Opry with friends. They didn’t go all the way to Nashville, but they drove to Meridian, which was thirty miles away. Many of the country stars from the Grand Ole Opry were there to perform. I was a country music fan, and I was upset they got to see Grandpa Jones, Little Jimmy Dickens and June Carter, without me being along.
Other than the one or two movies and the country music show, there was no entertainment they enjoyed together. We never took vacations. Dad like playing Dominoes and Rook, but Mom never played. They did like going to dinner at the homes of friends and relatives or having people over. Sometimes at a get-togather, they made homemade ice cream turning the old crank freezer and using chipped ice and salt to freeze it. I was able to be a part of these gatherings.
Mom took me to see my first movie, which was Walt Disney’s “Fantasia”. I was probably four or five. I’d never been inside a theater nor witnessed animation. If the darkened theater and big screen wasn’t enough, the music, brilliant colors and shapes morphing from one thing into another kept me awed in wide-eyed wonder. It was a different kind of music from the country music or church music I was familiar with.
I talked about that movie for weeks and never forgot it. I realize now, the music was performed by a classical orchestra and the movie didn’t really have a story except in one spot when Mickey Mouse was in a short story called "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". I’ve read recently the movie isn’t recommended for small children because of some very dark music and scary scenes. As far as I was concerned, it was perfect and I enjoyed every second of it. This wasn’t the case when I was taken to another movie.
The second movie Mom took me to was Bambi. I was thrilled in the beginning with all the cute talking forest animals, but as the movie continued there were scary and sad parts that left me sobbing. I wasn’t ready for the reality of death. I would have to deal with learning how to handle that over time. It was the last time I remember her taking me to a movie. Once I was in school, I could go alone or with other kids.
Going to a movie in those days only cost a dime for those under ten. With a quarter, you could see the movie and could have popcorn, a drink and a candy bar. Black people had a separate door, and they could watch from the theater balcony. The movies always started with local business advertisements. Following that, there were the newsreels, which was mostly about what was happening with the war in Europe. Then it was time for an animated cartoon feature. When that came on, all the kids in the theater clapped and yelled. After that, there were the previews and finally the feature film.
I went to the theater movies with kids I knew from school, often twice a week. I didn’t like riding the school bus so, I walked to town and waited for Dad to get off work and drive me home. Dad would give me money for the movies to get me off the street so he didn’t have to worry about me. He’d always say, “Don’t tell you mother.” Mom had decided she didn’t like me going to movies. Most of my friends went to the Saturday cowboy movies, but I was always home on Saturdays.
At one point, Max Commick who owned the Newton's Roxy Theater and drove around in the latest Cadillac available, decided, he would march all twelve grades of the Newton school students in front of the camera. A moving picture of their child, showing at the theater, would certainly bring the parents out. I remember the day in first grade when Miss Chatham lined us all up, two by two. I don’t know whose idea it was to have a girl and boy paired together.
At any rate, she put Bill Beach and I together. Bill was the menace in our class. He was always in trouble, but he was one of the two cutest boys in class. I had decided I wanted nothing to do with boys since I had been rejected by my shy former boyfriend, James, on the first day of school, so I chose to ignore Bill as we walked out on the campus. We were to stay in a straight line as we followed our teacher as she walked in front of the camera.
As Bill and I approached the camera, he reached out and grabbed me and planted a kiss on my lips. I was shocked. It hadn’t occurred to me that he would dare to do such a thing.“Why did you do that?” I demanded.
“Haven’t you ever been to a movie?” he asked. “That’s what movies are for. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you get in front of the camera.”
Apparently, the others hadn’t been informed of the rules. I think I was the only one who got a kiss that day.
School would soon be out for the summer. At home, Mom had learned her brother, Newman, who lived in Texas, was going to be getting a divorce from his wife, Alene. We had heard that he was having an affair with his secretary. When Grandma Lay, his mother, had learned about the divorce, she had taken a bus to Texas to stay with him and try to dissuade him from ruining his life. He was living and working in Houston, but Aunt Alene and her two kids were still living in Port Author.
Mom had decided as soon as school dismissed, she would take me on a train to Port Author. Aunt Alene had said if we came to Texas, she would drive us back to Mississippi and we could bring Grandma back home with us. Mom also decided, without my input, that I would get a permanent wave in my straight hair and get a studio photo made. She wanted to impress the Texas relatives.
I don’t know what she was thinking. It was torture for a six-year-old to go through this just for the sake of having some curls. This beauty shop had one of those heat-wave perm machines. I had to sit on a stack of towels to get me up high enough to be hooked into the thing. Each curl was rolled on the end of an electrical cord dangling from something which looked like it was some kind of electrocution machine. It took forever, and then we had to hurry over to the studio for my photo appointment. The photographer told me to say cheese, but I wasn’t in the mood for any such foolishness.
School was out in May of 1944. I had my report card saying I’d been promoted to second grade. I don’t know why I had been so worried. I’d been afraid of being held back, even after Miss Chatham told Mom in confidence, I’d scored highest in the class on the IQ test which we had to take.
Mom tucked me into bed early, because we would have to go to the depot in the middle of the night to get on the train to Port Arthur. The next chapter will be about the train ride. I wrote it a few years ago. I may use it as it is written, or rewrite it.
My folks weren’t people who did things for entertainment. They seldom went to a movie. In fact, I can only recall my mom and dad seeing two movies together. I stayed with my grandparents on those occasions. I don’t remember ever being at a movie with Dad. They went to see "Gone with the Wind" when it came out in 1940. I wasn’t even three, but I can still remember them discussing the movie stars.
I also remember them once going to see the Grand Ole Opry with friends. They didn’t go all the way to Nashville, but they drove to Meridian, which was thirty miles away. Many of the country stars from the Grand Ole Opry were there to perform. I was a country music fan, and I was upset they got to see Grandpa Jones, Little Jimmy Dickens and June Carter, without me being along.
Other than the one or two movies and the country music show, there was no entertainment they enjoyed together. We never took vacations. Dad like playing Dominoes and Rook, but Mom never played. They did like going to dinner at the homes of friends and relatives or having people over. Sometimes at a get-togather, they made homemade ice cream turning the old crank freezer and using chipped ice and salt to freeze it. I was able to be a part of these gatherings.
Mom took me to see my first movie, which was Walt Disney’s “Fantasia”. I was probably four or five. I’d never been inside a theater nor witnessed animation. If the darkened theater and big screen wasn’t enough, the music, brilliant colors and shapes morphing from one thing into another kept me awed in wide-eyed wonder. It was a different kind of music from the country music or church music I was familiar with.
I talked about that movie for weeks and never forgot it. I realize now, the music was performed by a classical orchestra and the movie didn’t really have a story except in one spot when Mickey Mouse was in a short story called "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". I’ve read recently the movie isn’t recommended for small children because of some very dark music and scary scenes. As far as I was concerned, it was perfect and I enjoyed every second of it. This wasn’t the case when I was taken to another movie.
The second movie Mom took me to was Bambi. I was thrilled in the beginning with all the cute talking forest animals, but as the movie continued there were scary and sad parts that left me sobbing. I wasn’t ready for the reality of death. I would have to deal with learning how to handle that over time. It was the last time I remember her taking me to a movie. Once I was in school, I could go alone or with other kids.
Going to a movie in those days only cost a dime for those under ten. With a quarter, you could see the movie and could have popcorn, a drink and a candy bar. Black people had a separate door, and they could watch from the theater balcony. The movies always started with local business advertisements. Following that, there were the newsreels, which was mostly about what was happening with the war in Europe. Then it was time for an animated cartoon feature. When that came on, all the kids in the theater clapped and yelled. After that, there were the previews and finally the feature film.
I went to the theater movies with kids I knew from school, often twice a week. I didn’t like riding the school bus so, I walked to town and waited for Dad to get off work and drive me home. Dad would give me money for the movies to get me off the street so he didn’t have to worry about me. He’d always say, “Don’t tell you mother.” Mom had decided she didn’t like me going to movies. Most of my friends went to the Saturday cowboy movies, but I was always home on Saturdays.
At one point, Max Commick who owned the Newton's Roxy Theater and drove around in the latest Cadillac available, decided, he would march all twelve grades of the Newton school students in front of the camera. A moving picture of their child, showing at the theater, would certainly bring the parents out. I remember the day in first grade when Miss Chatham lined us all up, two by two. I don’t know whose idea it was to have a girl and boy paired together.
At any rate, she put Bill Beach and I together. Bill was the menace in our class. He was always in trouble, but he was one of the two cutest boys in class. I had decided I wanted nothing to do with boys since I had been rejected by my shy former boyfriend, James, on the first day of school, so I chose to ignore Bill as we walked out on the campus. We were to stay in a straight line as we followed our teacher as she walked in front of the camera.
As Bill and I approached the camera, he reached out and grabbed me and planted a kiss on my lips. I was shocked. It hadn’t occurred to me that he would dare to do such a thing.“Why did you do that?” I demanded.
“Haven’t you ever been to a movie?” he asked. “That’s what movies are for. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you get in front of the camera.”
Apparently, the others hadn’t been informed of the rules. I think I was the only one who got a kiss that day.
School would soon be out for the summer. At home, Mom had learned her brother, Newman, who lived in Texas, was going to be getting a divorce from his wife, Alene. We had heard that he was having an affair with his secretary. When Grandma Lay, his mother, had learned about the divorce, she had taken a bus to Texas to stay with him and try to dissuade him from ruining his life. He was living and working in Houston, but Aunt Alene and her two kids were still living in Port Author.
Mom had decided as soon as school dismissed, she would take me on a train to Port Author. Aunt Alene had said if we came to Texas, she would drive us back to Mississippi and we could bring Grandma back home with us. Mom also decided, without my input, that I would get a permanent wave in my straight hair and get a studio photo made. She wanted to impress the Texas relatives.
I don’t know what she was thinking. It was torture for a six-year-old to go through this just for the sake of having some curls. This beauty shop had one of those heat-wave perm machines. I had to sit on a stack of towels to get me up high enough to be hooked into the thing. Each curl was rolled on the end of an electrical cord dangling from something which looked like it was some kind of electrocution machine. It took forever, and then we had to hurry over to the studio for my photo appointment. The photographer told me to say cheese, but I wasn’t in the mood for any such foolishness.
School was out in May of 1944. I had my report card saying I’d been promoted to second grade. I don’t know why I had been so worried. I’d been afraid of being held back, even after Miss Chatham told Mom in confidence, I’d scored highest in the class on the IQ test which we had to take.
Mom tucked me into bed early, because we would have to go to the depot in the middle of the night to get on the train to Port Arthur. The next chapter will be about the train ride. I wrote it a few years ago. I may use it as it is written, or rewrite it.
 Recognized |
The photo is me at six. This will be a chapter in the book about my growing up in MIssissippi.
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