I kind of just sat and stared as I recalled so many things during this time period even though I was so young. This first block in Powell was the most overlooked and mis understood. While it didn't have the bank or the grocery store or The Golden Rule it had what every one boy needed. The Ford garage with barely enough room to show one new shiny car in the show room, the thick smell of tobacco coming from the office couldn't drench that wonderful aroma of a new car when the door was opened.The noise of the typesetter, the clatter of the printing press and the smell of the ink at the Tribune was something that I think that I only experienced once when I was small but something that I never forgot.Dawson(?) the first crippled man that I ever saw was a surviver of the Bataan death march. This didn't mean anything to me at the time other than I was told to respect him and I did. Mmm, this has to do with the welding shop in the block.Anyway as you look at the street and you think of the pictures that you saw in Life magazine of other places you kind of understand why you were in a hurry to leave but maybe not always understand if you really had to leave.
Didn't proof read , sorry.
Great writing, Steve. This photo just underscored my belated realization that I (we) should all take more photos of what is familiar to us today, because those images will bring back the nostalgia and memories of the future. Dawson's was probably the only blacksmith shop on a main street (called Bent?) in the country that stayed open until just a few years ago. Sorry I can't see the sign for Funk's Pool Hall.
Main Street, U.S.A. There is nothing like the nostalgia of the memorories of a small town main street, where you are familiar with every store on both sides of the street, as well as most of the owners. Because of these memories I will always be a small town girl at heart, and have never had a desire to live in a big city. Thank you for the picture, Dwight, and thank you for your writing, Steve. I had not known the story about Dawson.
Thanks for the picture - glad you had your archives, and could post it. We went down this street so often that it feels very familiar. Judging by the cars, this must have been taken in the late '40's. You can see the old Wyoming Hotel, where we sometimes went to have our eyes checked by the visiting optometrists from Lovell - you could still take a bath for a small fee. The First National Bank, where I cashed my $100 check for working in the beets the summer before I was a senior - all a part of our world.
Memories are funny things. I am amazed at what Steve remembers, because he is younger than I am. Does that say his memory is more in tact than mine? Not! I have very few memories of the south end of town. The cars are a reality check for me of the timing of this photo. What a fun photo of what feels like another world.
Remember Ann, I can remember standing in my playpen which was parked in the livingroom plotting my jail break. I just can't remember what Mary lynn asked me to do this morning, darn.
Steve, is that called "selective" memory?One time I stayed overnight with Leona Banks with her grandmother who had a tiny room in the upper chambers of the Wyoming Hotel. It was the most sparcely furnished room I had ever seen and for the first time in my life I realized that here was the harsh reality of true poverty.Who did not drag "Main"? Or march down the street with the band in a parade? Or look for a parking place in the winter to spend a few cents for Christmas presents or go to a movie?
Judy would drag Main???? Dwight's memories of the pool hall, Steve's memories of the smell at the Ford garage - there were definitely town smells and country smells. After having a day or two to think about if I remembered anything (that is a lot of work), I do have memories of Miss Heasler's little shop, not seen in the photo, the drug store, Colston Clinic, the dime store, and buying milk buckets at the hardware store (was that Elder's way back then?). Also there was the magical but infrequent trip to Sawyers, and the Golden Rule with the upstairs and the bolts of fabric - and the smells. And then there was the little diner that was close to Miss Heasler's shop where we would go for lunch during High School days and pay $.25 for a hamburger, fries and a coke. That didn't happen very often, but when it did it was like stepping into the world of the rich and famous.
The Dutch Mill, Ann, and wasn't Miss Heasler scary with her white hair pulled back into a tight bun in the back? If you said "Yes, Ma'am," and "No, Ma'm", then you might get by without a scolding. But she had good paper doll books and coloring books. She was still there when I went back to teach in the early '70's. Sister-in-law to the school nurse, who was built on more generous lines. And I couldn't stand it when we would pick Dwight up after he'd been at Funk's Pool Hall, because he would smell like stale tobacco smoke.
Tour, beginning on left: Bullis Furniture, which really was a good furniture store. Dad and Mom bought a couple of pieces there, and they had a record listening booth so you could try out records. Hede Implement, prop. Rudy Hede. Son Bob was a magisterial trombone playing senior in the PHS band when I was a freshman. When I worked for the bank in 1950, he was circulating his business card: "For the stuff to do the job, stop at Hede's and talk to Bob." Wilma Latimer, my supervisor at the bank, and I had many yuks over that. Bob became a professional photographer in Casper, and took family pictures of my son Russell's family while they were in Casper. He married Betty McClelland, daughter of Don McClelland, prop. of Ford garage next door to Hede's. Other owner of Ford garage was Bruce ? Can't remember last name. Then the PTribune where I delivered the weekly FFA news report on my way to and fro from the pool hall. FFA news has never in history, either before or decades after, been covered and printed in such glorious detail as when I was FFA reporter, the start of my illustrious journalism career. Then I think there was an insurance office set back from the street with a gorgeous flower garden each spring and summer and then the gas station on the corner, across from the WYO hotel. To be continued.
What a memory, Dwight. I got to know main street pretty well when I stayed in town after graduating, and the winter I taught school in Powell, but I can't come up with the places that well. All of these great comments are such a piece of our history. Didn't you describe main street in one of your books?
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