A Letter From The Editor
What is it about summertime that makes you feel young again ?
JUNE 2016 PARKER COUNTY TODAY
4
It has something to do with swimming pools , the fragrance of coconut oil everywhere , sunburns , chigger bites , snowcone stands , flip-flops , porch swings , Big Reds , freshly starched cotton frocks and songs by The Beach Boys .
My Aunt Gladys had a big , rambling bungalow in Mineral Wells that always smelled of lemon oil , lavender and cedar . Our house looked sort of like an office with bedrooms , a little like the set of the Dick Van Dyke Show ( ho-hum ); there was actually a white-and-black leather sectional sofa in the living room accompanied by a coordinating Barcalounger . My mother wore pedal-pushers to the grocery store .
In contrast , Aunt Gladys was oldfashioned , funny and sweet , and more than a little bit ditzy . She seemed like she was from another century . I adored her . Her daughter Patty ( my cousin ) was three years older than me and had a fondness for gymnastics . She always wore gym shorts under her dresses , just in case she had an irresistible urge to cartwheel ( which she often did ). The shorts enabled her to give in to that urge without fear of jeopardizing the future of western civilization .
I would spend a week here and there during summers with them at their house . It was much more fun than my house . Theirs was older , filled with antiques and mysteries . Best of all , they didn ’ t have all the rules that went with my house , or if they did , the rules didn ’ t apply to me . My parents were wonderful , but we couldn ’ t bring food into the living room , we couldn ’ t drink soft drinks because they were bad for you . They said they caused tooth decay , bleeding ulcers , acne and kidney stones ( which they probably did ).
They lived in Mineral Wells , a fascinating town filled with tragedy , inscrutabilities and legends .
After breakfast was over we would roam the town until mid-morning buying trinkets and penny candy .
My favorite tale was that the stage-
coach containing the Confederate Treasury was buried somewhere in one of the hills surrounding the city . Once I asked my grandfather , who was about 300 years old when I was 7 , if there was any truth to that legend . He ’ d sit on his veranda with me when I was a small child and tell me stories about the Wild West — firsthand . He said he thought there was . I ’ ve been looking for that gold ever since . Aunt Gladys would let us go hunt for the stagecoach while she napped .
We walked all over that town . There was an elderly woman named Miss Addie who , rumor had it , met the love of her life at the Baker Hotel just after Pearl Harbor , fell in love with him and married her sweetheart just before he went “ overseas .” I pictured them dancing to Tommy Dorsey in the Baker ’ s lovely ballroom .
When he came back from World War II he was wheelchair-bound and she took care of him for years . When he died , she went a little “ Un-hinged ,” Auntie said . She spent the rest of her days pushing his empty wheelchair around Mineral Wells and talking to it ; or more than likely she was talking to her long-gone husband .
Like most little girls , we wore shorts throughout the summer . The lady pushing the wheelchair thought the sight of two little girls wearing shorts was “ shocking .” She would yell at us . “ Where ’ s your skirts ?” she would screech . “ I ’ m calling the police on you if you don ’ t go home and put on some clothes . Look at them !”
She became my favorite person that I never knew . I wanted to go to her house , ring her doorbell and ask her about her husband . I wanted to look at her wedding album . My aunt was appalled at this idea . My cousin was even appalled at this idea . But , as we sauntered around town , I would always look for her , hoping to see her first . If Patty saw her before I did she would insist that we go the other way . Somehow , my older cousin didn ’ t find being screamed at by a demented elderly lady pushing an empty wheelchair as exhilarating as I did .
Aunt Gladys allowed us more freedom than my parents did , probably because Mineral Wells was a much smaller town than ours was and because I was accompanied by my older cousin . She knew everyone and everyone knew her . Besides , if anyone made a threatening move she was capable of cartwheeling away from any danger .
There was a slight problem with this strategy — I couldn ’ t cartwheel to save my life . Still can ’ t . I suppose that the plan was that in case of danger , while the dangerous people were wowed by my cousin ’ s astounding cartwheeling ability , I could simply run away from the peril . That must have been it .
Afternoons were spent swimming either at the Baker ( someone had a club membership ) or at the city pool , and by the time we came back to my aunt ’ s house , we were exhausted and a little bit sunburned . The next day we ’ d start it all over again .
One year my aunt and uncle sold the big , enchanting bungalow and built a house in the country .
My father bought a little land in the country , sold my little Shetland pony and bought a beautiful Appaloosa for me . That summer was very different for me . Cousin Patty and I started traveling in different circles . She stopped cartwheeling , cut her hair , took up roller-skating and started dating .
I was focused on my horse , writing short stories , poetry and was painting strange watercolors of New Orleans graveyards .
Then , Miss Addie died . No one noticed for a long while . By then I was 15 . I cried when I heard . I wanted to buy flowers for her , but no one seemed to know exactly where she was buried .
Summers are very different for me now . I spend much more of my summer at a laptop than at a pool . But for some odd reason , whenever I walk out of a freezing cold air-conditioned office and I ’ m hit in the face by a hot breeze , I get the urge to get a snow cone , don shorts and a T-shirt , run to Mineral Wells , find my cartwheeling cousin and have a weird small-town adventure . I ’ m hoping you have a few of those this summer as well .
Thanks for reading , Marsha Brown , Editor-in-Chief and Publisher , Parker County Today Magazine