Rumour Has it…. Linda Knight Seccaspina

Rumour Has it…. Linda Knight Seccaspina

How many stories have you heard through the years about what life was like in “the old days”? Things were always better according to my generation and older, but our memories tend to forget about the bad events in our past. So, we retell those heartwarming stories a lot more often, and reinforce the good memories of the past.

We as mothers, fathers, and grandparents all tell our kids and grandkids how we walked to school unaccompanied, often long distances. Some of my friends walked 2 miles by themselves to our rural school, but we did it in small groups. I remember waiting every single day in front of my home on Albert Street in Cowansville for my friend Sheila Wallet Needham to walk with me to school. I can’t remember if we complained about the cold or the snow, but I don’t think we did. All I remember is great friendship, conversation and now memories.

Yes, memories of wearing just knee socks and some light trench coat in minus winter weather now have me shaking my head. It took Sheila and myself 25 minutes to complete the journey to Heroes’ Memorial, and to expect a child today to endure this experience twice a day for nine months would be unimaginable.

I don’t think I was ever late for school- but there were always constant reminders to my sons. Three notorious young brothers at Cowansville High School were always late and at least once a week were lined up in the principal’s office to get the dreaded strap. That wailing sound alone was a reminder to us all not to dilly dally to school. One friend remembers “walking” the length of his family’s barn hand over hand on the litter carrier track to build up calluses on his hands so the strap didn’t hurt too much

So how willing and happy were we to go to school in those days? Times have most certainly changed and one student told me he had lived in detention until Grade 10. Another told me he jumped out of a school window in Grade 6 and got a huge gash on his leg because of his crazy stunt. I asked him why he would do such a thing and he said because his nickname was Ninja, and he did not want anyone to question his Ninja skills. Another happily gave me the information that he had given his whole class head lice while his friend took the tires off of the principal’s car and hid them around school.

Dirt was always my grandmother’s enemy and somehow I repeated this trait to my children. Mary Louise Deller Knight could never tolerate a child with a dirty face or a runny nose going to school. She always said that under her watch I would never look poor or uncared for. When you walked into her house graced with dirt and she spotted it– you never ever pulled away. Even if you thought it wasn’t there, trust me Grammy Knight found it.

I was never the neatest kid in the world and I’m still a messy eater. I don’t think I was ever around for hand to mouth education. There isn’t a meal where I don’t drop something on me and my husband agreed while I was writing this– so no wonder she was busy scrubbing my face and various food spots on my clothing before I went back to school after lunch.

My mother was nowhere as bad as my grandmother and at least she used a damp washcloth, but my grandmother had the enthusiasm of a carpenter sanding a large two-by-four. To this day, I would swear that I have one less layer of skin because of her. I am so pale and glow in the dark thanks to my grandmother and her persistent scrubbing.

My grandmother, like myself, always had something to clean with. I have heard people tell me they will always remember me having a tissue in hand or always being able to pull one from the sleeve of any garment. I learned from my Grandmother that it was a necessary life accessory and sometimes Grammy stuffed her ‘cleaner’ in her corset bra.

Really a bit of spit on a hanky never hurt us, but there had to be some health and safety regulations about this horrible habit. Wasn’t there? All I know is in those days there wasn’t an antibacterial wipe in sight! According to my Grandmother I was given life out of my mother’s intestines (?), and the salvia/hankie ritual wasn’t going to kill anyone.

Did these “unsanitary” actions help us build our immune systems?

Now they run around with antibacterial this and antibacterial that and kids have colds, flus, pneumonia, and other illnesses that only have letters. I read there was a new cleaner called Mom’s Spit and that it was great for faces, necks, clothes, shoes, floors, counters, bathrooms, automotive degreasing and more. I thought it must be amazing, and then I found out it was just a funny ad for 409.

In the 50s and 60s mom or grandma spit was an all-in-one cleaner and we never thought anything about it. It was always on hand in an instant for dirty faces, Formica counters, mirrors and even spit shined shoes. My grandmother always warned me however if you were going to spit clean like she did, never spit up because whatever goes up always comes down.

Were the old days really that good? Maybe sometimes our stories aren’t really thinking about the times of the past carefully. My grandparents told me stories about the war rationing, the unemployment and my generation lived through times of fear of getting polio. Women in years past could not have a bank account without a male cosigner and only in 1978 firing women for being pregnant finally became illegal. I think it’s not being young anymore that we mourn, and we constantly tell stories from the past. However, even if it wasn’t perfect, it was a time when there was a great appreciation for what we had or didn’t have, because sadly, too much is being taken for granted today– and that’s a shame.

See you next week!