So, again, thank you so kindly for all your lovely thoughts. I do appreciate it very much. And do not feel, now, that you need to comment on my account. I understand now than many just enjoy reading and have no need to say anything. I am still very innocent in the ways of blogging, though I have done it for a year and a half now. Thank you all again.
This evening, here in 1956, at the Russwood Park, Memphis Tennessee, Elvis will perform. Many of the 14,000 fans were there early in the morning, camping out to be close to the growing legend. The concept of idol and God-like star is truly born.
Young girls weep in his presence hoping to merely touch his clothes. The shift here in 1956, I believe, is beginning for youth. Today, in many ways, music probably plays the role religion once played in the lives of those in the Middle Ages. Its chants and rhythms almost a prayer to its followers. Though many, of course, are simply drawn into this new form of music. This American music which taps the roots of it’s Afro-centric heritage and the simple tunes and verbiage of the ‘Hillbilly’ that is becoming Rockabilly. This sound, in its true form, still exists today, though not on the level it is gaining here in 1956.On a winter day in 1914 a telephone call came in to the Memphis Press. The caller was concerned about the faint wailing of a baby he heard coming from a seemingly deserted house in downtown Memphis. The city editor sent Memory McCord, one of Memphis' earliest women reporters, to investigate. When she arrived at the building, a woman, holding a tiny baby, opened the door of the one-room apartment. The mother was frightened and cold. The poorly clad baby was hungry. There was no wood for the apartment's stove and the icebox lacked food and milk.
McCord, who wrote under the byline of Cynthia Grey, wrote a touching story the next day. Soon the newspaper office was flooded with contributions and offers of housing and food for the mother and child. As a result, a fund was created to help needy infants and babies get a healthy start in life. Incorporated in 1933, the fund later became a tax-exempt organization.
I find that story both interesting in it showing the growing response the populace has to the ‘new media’ (the newspaper) in accordance to such a story. Though, quite honestly, there were many opportunities for anyone to see such poor people, it was not until it was portrayed in story form that it touched enough hearts to make a difference. It really shows the power of the story. We have, even today with our blogs, still that ancient human need to gather round the fire and listen to the storyteller. We are rapt and often touched greatly when even a reality we might know very well of is put into a context of beginning and end. Digital or handwritten scribe, or oral history, we love a good story.
I also am impressed with the woman reporter in 1914, we were not always in the kitchen tied to children until the 1960’s saved us, as some people will have us believe. It is a nice story, though, isn’t it?
This darling little girl, Elizabeth, in Hopkinton Iowa today in 56. How sweet is she. I adore the children’s clothing of today and can imagine the fun for the little girls to wear the petticoats and longer skirts. At my current age here in 1956 I would most likely have had a childhood outfit much like these children in the 20’s celebrating the 4th of July.
Whenever I put myself into the historical perspective of what my 1950’s self would have known as a child, it is always humbling to think what I have even here in 1956. Washing machine, Dishwasher, Good sized freezer, air conditioning, a really good vacuum. But, much as today, some of the innocence may be gone with the ease. If I had a child, I might wonder at it wanting to stare at a flickering screen watching cowboy films when there are perfectly good frogs to catch outside or cans to kick. Funny, really.Today I am off to my own hometown to watch our little parade and later the band and a funny little boat contest on the old mill pond. This image of a 1956 4th of July parade would probably have some tears made in the audience.
These veterans reenacting that famous image, it was still so close to home. I am sure there were many wives who held their hubby’s a little closer while remembering the fear of their absence and the uncertainties of the future. It is images like this that always spurs me on to over analyze where we have come since the war. There is a part of me that feels we owe that generation the right to be ‘awake’ to what is happening in our new America and to make better choices to make sure our country can become what those young men fought for. I will not rant today, but it burns me to think of American flags bought at big box stores manufactured in communist china. There is something almost face slapping about it. But, I will not spoil our Holiday, but do remember those brave men that fought and died so that we might have the opportunity to live as we do. We DO owe our past an allegiance and a certain amount of responsibility. Enough said…Here is a Parade from Today in California.
