#1950snostalgia

[paranapadilha]

Untitled. 2022

a vibrant tribute to the fifties: sunlit flags drying on the line, where nostalgia meets devotion.

[lennylenski]

If we could time-travel back to a #1950s diner, you bet we’d have one rockin’ menu in front of us! Here’s a few must-order items back in the day:

1. Root Beer Float

2. Double Cheeseburger with a Mountain of Fries

3. Milkshake (But Extra Thick)

4. Cherry Pie à la Mode

5. Egg Cream

#1950sNostalgia#retreats#dinerdreams#ThrowbackMenu#vintagevibes#50sdinerfavorites#classicamericaneats#oldschooldiner#timetraveleats#NostalgicBites

#fypシ#nostalgia#retrovibes#Boomer

[heartlandphilosopher]

Belt, Badge and Bicycle: Adventures of a Triple A School Safety Patrol Captain

One freshly bleached canvas white belt, complete with fully operational buckles as well as hook and eye hardware...check.

One official chrome-plated badge, shield-shaped, adorned with wings-spread eagle and the embossed letters spelling “C-A-P-T-A-I-N” and “AAA SCHOOL SAFETY PATROL”...check. One twenty-four inch boy’s bicycle, oiled, greased and ready-to-ride...check.

In the early 1950’s, adults were not the crossing guards at public school intersections. Instead, the School Safety Patrol, a group of boys (yes, only boys) sponsored by the AAA Motor Club, was responsible for safely escorting elementary school-aged boys and girls across any of the four busy corner intersections surrounding school property. When I was in the fifth grade, I was one of these members of the School Safety Patrol for Hernly Elementary School. We were the “patrol boys.”

I’m not exactly sure who selected us — or by what criteria they selected us. I’d like to think our teachers and principal chose us because of our maturity and sense of responsibility. Nevertheless, fall, winter and spring, we arrived at school early for before-school traffic, left class early at noon for lunchtime crossings, and left class early again near dismissal time to handle after-school duty. Sometimes we slipped on the over-the-shoulder and around-the-waist canvas belt before departing; sometimes we wore the belts all day.

The first order of business as a patrol boy was to position the tall, colorful, metal sign, designed to look like a policeman, artistically-painted with one hand raised in the “stop” gesture. He was a friendly-looking officer, rosy-cheeked and eyes open for any careless drivers approaching our school zone. The sign had a large, round, and exceedingly heavy metal base that required wheeling it to the middle of the intersection at the beginning of the shift and then wheeling it back to the curb at the end.

Patrol boys never directed traffic. Our job was to keep the little ones on the curb until it was safe to cross the street, then — when the coast was clear — we would walk out into the street, arms outstretched, and usher the children across. We also had the responsibility of trying to prevent horseplay, with the option of reporting any malfeasance directly to the school principal. (As a first grader, I once suffered a report to the principal by a patrol boy because I had pulled the pigtails of a female classmate during the lunchtime crossing.) Most students respectfully obeyed us.

Four patrol boys were stationed at each of the four intersections. A fifth was a captain, who would substitute for any absent member of his crew. If all boys were present, he had the enviable task of patrolling all four intersections and checking that all went smoothly. I was a captain of the School Safety Patrol that year.

As captain, I rode my bike around the block as I checked on my fellow patrol boys. I would help them out if they were extremely busy, I would chat with them if they were not. Many times, I merely observed the goings-on. I often helped wheel out (or wheel in) the heavy policeman sign. I am sorry to admit that, on occasion, I even gave rides to the doll of a pre- school girl in the neighborhood. Those were happy days to be captain of the School Safety Patrol. I remember no serious accidents—no children hit by automobiles, no cars hitting other cars—just the rare occurrence of a pigtail-pulling.

Sadly, when my tenure as a member of the School Safety Patrol was over, I had to turn in my prized badge and belt. Today, I cherish my “School Safety Patrol Award of Merit” certifying my membership in this noble order. Signed by Richard James, who represented the Hoosier Motor Club, it proclaimed: “...in recognition of meritorious service rendered in protecting the lives of school children while serving as a member of the School Safety Patrol at Hernly School, from September, 1953 to April, 1954.” The local police chief, the school superintendent and the school principal also signed the certificate, which came with a miniature pin duplicating the original captain’s badge. Together, they remind me of those glory days of burgeoning maturity, responsibility and leadership.