Robinwood Lane

My Mom had told us that people in Illinois would be refined - even wearing hats and gloves after dark. Little did I know that hats and gloves were needed to keep from freezing to death! We were kids that never owned a winter coat. We didn't know about leaves changing color - and never had to rake them. None of us remembered snow. 

But now we were in Riverwoods, a section of Deerfield, Illinois. Our house was on Robinwood Lane, a one-mile, one-lane dirt road. There were other houses on our lane, but very few in comparison to Talbot Drive. None of the neighbors seemed to have children our age. We couldn't roller skate outside - thank goodness there was a huge basement we could skate round and round. Every time Cherie would convince me to explore the woods or visit the horses owned by our neighbors, I ended up with poison ivy. I think it was the longest summer of my life. I was miserable those first few months. 

I didn't hate the house. In fact, it's still my favorite home from all our moves. In addition to the terrific tree house and window seat, the house also had a small, walk-in pantry, a laundry chute and large closets. And I had my own bedroom. 

The house was set up with huge, dormitory style rooms at each end of the second floor. Because they were so large, the boys, Tommy, Ricky and Greg shared one room, like they did on Talbot Drive. The first few months we girls played musical bedrooms with my parents, but they finally settled into a small room in the middle of the long hall (my Mom wanted to be within earshot of all the kids). It was the best room because it had the window seat. Barbie & Cherie shared the largest bedroom at the opposite end of the house from the boys. Margie and Susie shared a smaller room, and I got the smallest room. Barbie always said I was such a pain, nobody wanted to share a room with me.  But I was three years younger than Cherie and five years older than Margie, so I didn't fit in with either set of girls. 

There was one and a half bathrooms on the second floor. The half bathroom had a hole built into the floor under a four-foot shelf that we learned was a laundry chute. When dirty clothes were tossed into this hole, they would slide down and end up in a cabinet next to the washer and dryer downstairs. Much easier for my Mom. 

Of course the laundry chute was way too tempting to be used just for clothes. My Mom always found as many toys as clothes when she opened the cabinet to start laundry. It was fun to climb up to the cabinet and hide during hide-and-go-seek, but the older kids were too big to do much more. One day when my parents were out, we learned that when Susie was lowered into the hole, she would slide right down and someone could catch her at the bottom. Then we decided to give Greg a turn. Success! Next was Margie. She eagerly stepped to the hole and we proceeded to put her in the chute. She started to slide down, but never made it to the bottom. She was wedged in the bend the chute made to line up into the cabinet. We tried to pull her out the top - no luck. We tried to pull her feet out the bottom - she didn't budge. Poor Margie was stuck and getting scared. After a long time (probably only 15 minutes, but it seemed like a century), Cherie was finally able to calm her enough that she relaxed and we got her out. She probably told Margie to stop crying because Santa was watching and we'd all be in trouble. 

The house had a detached garage with a bicycle rack made by the previous owners. We thought it was so cool to park our bikes neatly. There was also a ride-on mower (we called it the tractor). In California, our yard was so small Dad cut the grass with a push mower that had sharp whirling blades. But now, there was at least an acre of grass to mow of the three acres that we owned. And rake - the leaves never stopped. My Dad would give us rides in the cart that attached to the mower, usually on a big pile of leaves. I don't remember any of the girls or Mom ever driving the tractor, although Mom did the majority of the raking. Tom learned to mow the lawn, but only with Dad's supervision. There was also a little plow that Dad used to move snow from the garage to the road for their cars. 

We only got to stay in the Deerfield house two and a half years. I made some of my best, life-long friends there. Barbie and Cherie started high school, and Barbie got her first job as a waitress in the local ice cream shop. Tommy played Little League. Margie started kindergarden. Dad ran and won a seat on the City Council. And we got our Christmas baby. Kitty was born two days before Christmas in 1966. Yes, it was short but it seemed much longer because our lives there reflected the stuff movies are made of. 

When my Dad was transferred again, the house was put on the market and advertised as "Mansion in the Woods." It was the only time we moved that I wanted to stay. I believe the time we lived there was the happiest for each of us and for all of us. We just didn't know it then. 

Reading Is Fundamental

Books have been a part of our family since my first memories. My parents spent a lot of their lives quietly reading. I love the smell of new books. Just the slightly musty scent of most libraries somehow brings a sense of peace to me. A good bookstore will keep me occupied for hours, but the library is even better - anything of interest can be yours for at least two weeks.

My parents had 100's of books - fiction, non-fiction and reference. They belonged to several book clubs, as well as subscribing to a series of "All About" books on science subjects and historical reference for the kids. New books were always arriving at our house. When looking for a suitable home in our many moves, room for the books was almost as big a consideration as room for all the kids.   

Our new house in Deerfield had six large bedrooms. One of the biggest on the first floor was designed as the master bedroom. Not for us - it became our first home library. My parents invested in even more floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Our library housed my parents books, at least most of them. We also had bookshelves on one side of the main staircase where all the art books were displayed. On some subjects, our home library had a bigger selection than the local library. 

Books were shared and passed down from child to child in our house. We loved reading stories like "A Fly Went By" and "The Big Ball Of String." There was never a limit of how many books we could keep in our bedrooms. As our appetites for reading developed, the local library filled the void for books covering each of our ages and interests. 

Soon after we moved to Deerfield, my parents decided to invest in a full set of the Encyclopedia Britannica. As a bonus when you bought the adult version, you also received a set of Britannica Junior. It was like Christmas the July afternoon they arrived. Up to then, we had a Children's Golden Book Encyclopedia, but it was light on subject matter and somewhat dated. This was real reference we could really use! I guess we were weird kids - we would grab a volume to read just for fun (or was that just me?)

One rainy afternoon shortly after the new encyclopedias came, we were playing school, as we sometimes did when we were bored. Barbie was our Teacher. We got into our heads that we should write reports using our special new books. We gathered around the table to decide what each of us would write about (it wouldn't be good if your subject was in the same volume that somebody else was using). Cherie said she would write about cats, my report would be on flowers, Tommy said he's write about trains, and Rick's report would be on racing cars. Margie was just learning to write, but insisted on a report of her own too. So we asked her what she wanted to write on. She  looked a bit confused, but quietly said, "I'm going to write on paper." 

Although we had the best of intentions, the reports were soon forgotten when the sun came out and we were all free to play outside again. 

I started reading ravenously before we left Talbot Drive. Carolyn Haywood's series about the antics of Betsy and her little sister, Star, were my favorites. I soon graduated to The Bobbsey Twins, The Tuckers, and The Five Little Peppers And How They Grew. In Deerfield, I "met" Nancy Drew, and a friend of Barbie's loaned me the entire series - original, hard-cover editions from before they were edited and mass marketed with uniform covers. It was a sad day for me when they finally had to be returned. 

So the point of my rambling? Two words - Window Seats. The house on Robinwood Lane in Deerfield had the most perfect spot for curling up and reading. Someday I hope to have a house with a window seat flanked by bookshelves. But to this day, I remember that feeling of comfort whenever I enter a library. Oh, the possibilities. 

Movin' On Up

I'm not sure exactly when we were told that our family was moving away from Talbot Drive, but it was the year I was ten. We were called to a family meeting and my Dad said that he was being transferred to Chicago, so our house was going on the market and we would be moving that summer. 

I was excited about the prospect of a new house, new friends, and (according to my Mom) a new way of life. My parents were from the midwest - Mom and Dad grew up, went to college and married in Indiana. My Mother told us that people from the midwest were refined - not like the the heathens we had become living in southern California. People in the midwest ALWAYS acted gracious and polite. They wore hats and gloves, especially if going out after dark. I was fascinated. Yes, I could be a lady, at least most of the time. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. We learned quickly that a house on the market must be beautiful, clean and uncluttered at all times if expected to sell. There were eight children in the family at that point. We were somewhat crowded in the house, although I don't ever remember anything looking cramped. But there was a noticeable difference of how my Mom cleaned and fixed everything up for sale. And we knew better than to mess it up! 

Before we knew it, the house was sold and we were ready to start the long journey from California to Illinois. Movers had come and packed up almost everything in the house. Our beds and the final boxes would be added to the moving van that morning. 

We each got several sets of play-clothes and new sneakers for the trip. Those that were old enough packed our own bags, although I don't remember what we had for suitcases. My Mom carefully assembled bottles, diapers and other necessities for Susie (ages 2) and clothes for Greg (age 3) in the upstairs linen closet. She planned to dress them and pack a diaper bag at the last minute before we left. The movers were given strict instructions not to pack that closet. But as you may guess - when it was time, the closet was empty. I'm not sure what Mom did, although I know Greg & Susie were dressed when we were leaving. Perhaps a kindly neighbor? 

A new station wagon had been purchased in honor of the trip - a Chrysler Town & Country. The entire neighborhood turned out to say goodbye. As a salute to our friends and the happy years we spent on Talbot Drive, my Dad lit off a Piccolo Pete - a small firecracker that sent out an ear-splitting, shrill whistle. There were many hugs, a few tears and then it was time to go. Off we went, with my Father leading us singing "Let's Go Fly A Kite" from Mary Poppins. 

Instead of barreling across the country in the least amount of time, my parents planned to make this journey a vacation. Our route was not the most direct, but led up the scenic California coastline to San Francisco, over mountains to Yosemite National Park, across the beautiful Nevada desert, and included a day at Yellowstone. I'm not sure how long the trip was, but my guess is about a week. We were in the car together about eight hours a day. 

And finally we arrived in Deerfield, Illinois. Our new house was much bigger than I ever imagined and it sat on three acres of partially wooded land. There was an old swingset and sandbox in the backyard, but the most exciting thing for us kids was the neat little treehouse that was expertly constructed at the edge of the woods. The ladder used for entrance was at least ten feet high. Once at the top, you needed to turn your body to get on a little porch. Then there was this little room, complete with a window, big enough for several children. I wish someone had thought to take a picture. 

So a new chapter in our lives began, although Talbot Drive was still very close to our hearts and memories. 

The Idiot Box

My parents received a television early in their marriage as a gift from my grandpa Casey and my step-grandmother, Minerva. There was always a TV in our house, like almost every 1960's home, although nobody owned more than one television. 

When visiting friends, I noticed the television set was usually displayed as a focal point in the living room. But my Mom believed it was crass to have a TV in the best room of the house where we entertained guests. When we moved to Talbot Drive, the TV was placed in a closet of the 4th bedroom, used as a small den. When not in use, the closet door was pulled closed. In those early days, television viewing was limited at our house during the week. My parents called the TV the Idiot Box and the Boob Tube. But I remember sitting cross-legged watching Saturday morning programs like Mighty Mouse, Popeye, Sky King, Casper and Top Cat. 

When the 4th bedroom was needed for our growing family, my parents built an addition on the house so there was a Family Room where we kids could play and the old Black & White TV was relocated. The 1960's was a special time in the development of television programming. We waited eagerly each week to watch shows like Leave It To Beaver, My Three Sons, The Donna Reed Show, and Lassie. In later years we became devoted fans of The Patty Duke Show, The Beverly Hillbillies, Mr. Ed, I Dream of Jeanie and Gilligan's Island. 

On Sunday nights, my Dad would take the TV off the stand and put it on the countertop between the kitchen and family room so we could watch Disney's Wonderful World of Color during dinner. Every week as the show started with a kaleidoscope of swirling colors, my Dad would say how he wished we had a new TV, because "that must be just beautiful in color". 

People who grew up in small families don't know about "saving your seat". But anyone who has watched TV in a house where people outnumber soft seats knows that if you get up and don't save your chair, you could lose it. Someone in a less comfortable spot would jump up and grab your place once you were a foot or two away. So the protocol was that as soon as you stood up, you had to say "Saved".  Then if someone is sitting there when you return, they have to move. But if you forgot to save your seat, you were stuck sitting on the floor or in a less-than-desirable location. 

Side note: I always thought this practice was unique to our family until I met my husband, who grew up with 13 siblings. One day when we were still dating, he got up while we were watching TV and, just joking, said Save. I knew right then we were ment to be.   

In 1964, a new technique was developed by Rankin/Bass for stop-motion animation and gave us classic Christmas specials such as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman. Because of the success of these shows, new animated specials, including A Charlie Brown Christmas and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, were added each year. This was a big deal - prior to that, Christmas specials were live variety shows or stories acted out in stage format. Amahl and the Night Visitors was mandatory viewing at our house when it was broadcast each year. But these new shows were specifically made to excite and mesmerize children. Toy makers of the day, Hasbro, Kenner and Mattel, advertised heavily during these cartoon-type programs. Unlike today, these shows were broadcast only once a year. They were special nights when we kids would gather and watch the shows while munching popcorn. We'd be giddy with excitement, even as we got older because we could share them with our younger sisters and brothers.  

We finally got a color TV many years later and the first show we watched in "living color" was Lost in Space. We didn't have more than one TV until the 1970's and my Mother's living room was never defiled with a television set. 

Kids today can watch Christmas specials in July, or as many times as they want, thanks to DVD's, On-Demand, YouTube, and DVR machines. Homes have TV's in almost every room and there are hundreds of channels to watch at any hour of any day. It makes me miss the old days when we knew exactly what we'd be watching before the TV was turned on.