One man’s ramblings about small-town life

It was a peaceful period in time, when kids felt safe wandering town — often visiting Mr. Neal at the post office, Earl Tilton at the grocery store and Wilbur Kumble at the elevator (where there were cold 5 cent Cokes in a machine and 1 penny peanuts to put in it).

A top favorite was Louise Weigand’s place, Aunt Puddy’s, the only gas station in town and a precursor to today’s convenience stores. It had everything from candy to cold bottled beer, BB’s for your Red Ryder, .22 shells (and a 12-year-old could purchase them), cigarettes (them, too) and frozen bricks of ice cream. Of course, there was gas, too, from the glass-topped pump that had to be filled by hand.

Alexander at that time had four establishments selling alcohol. All were kept profitable by the fact that just 6 miles south was the dry town of Franklin! Lol!

The most memorable of the establishments was Rose ’n Gobes restaurant/tavern, which now is honored with a street sign bearing their combined name. Ethel Gobel was the no-nonsense bartender/keeper of the peace and Rose Johnson was — and is to this day — the World’s Best Chicken Fryer. (I have to add that my wife, Sharon, replicates Rose’s chicken perfectly.)

Rose and Gobe lived in a two-story frame house a short distance behind their business. They raised and dressed their own chickens for Rose’s unforgettable fried chicken dinners and basket sandwiches. They had the first rubber-fingered chicken-picking machine I ever saw. I asked Rose many years ago what the secret was to her chicken. She said she thought it was because she fried it in cast iron skillets. A rare treat was to get one of Rose’s chicken basket sandwiches with her delicious slaw and three-cornered buttered bread on a Sunday. And the crumbs in the bottom of the basket … I can taste them as I write this!

My income largely came from returning beer and pop bottles to Aunt Puddy to get the 2 cents for each. Me and others walked the highways to collect bottles, and they were plentiful. I also had the job of picking up the trash after the Free Movie Shows that were sponsored by Mr. Tilton’s grocery store. The man who showed the movies came from south of here — can’t remember where, maybe Alton — and set up a screen in the park to show the black-and-white films. I think they were shown twice a month on Wednesday. He sold popcorn and, at intermission, everyone would leave their blankets to rush to the store for a cold refreshment. I was paid 50 cents to clean up the popcorn bags and other trash the next morning. (It was not bad pay, actually). One morning I found a quarter! Another morning I found a quarter wrapped tightly in a $1 bill. To this day I still believe I had all the money in the world at the time!

Entertainment was not hard for us to find. Without the distraction of computers or a cell phone, we easily found it. Favorites were having war games with our handmade weapons (made from an old plaster lath), playing horseshoes in the park (with Sam Edmonds, Butch Lindemann, Billy Keenan, Mike Kaiser and Harry Coop), lots of exploring on our bikes, hours and hours of Monopoly on rainy days, reading books (now there’s a lost activity), mooching fresh-baked cookies from the Old Maid ladies two doors away, hunting rabbits with our bow and arrow (no success), get-together basketball and baseball games.

At that time, the highway going through town was U.S. 36/54 and it was very busy with traffic. A favorite pastime involved sitting on the glider on the front porch with a buddy. You take Chevy, I’ll take Ford and count them as they rushed by. (Rushed, indeed. At the time, the speed limit was “Reasonable and Proper” and cars that could do 100 mph often did. Counting Chevys or Fords … it was a time when you could actually tell the difference in cars.

A yearly favorite was attending the Illinois State Fair and the Franklin Fourth of July celebration. My grandma, who was born and raised in Kentucky, raised me. When attending the fair, we didn’t have much to spend. She would pack a picnic lunch with homegrown fried chicken — food was expensive at the fair — and we would enjoy it on a blanket spread on the hill where the Giant Slide is now. There was lots of free entertainment to be enjoyed at the fair — even the hawksters demonstrating the latest gadgets — and we could view the latest and greatest of everything. Rides were a bit expensive, so I didn’t get the stomach problems associated with some of them. Lol. Grandma loved the ice-cold buttermilk that was served from the big yellow wooden barrels. As much as I tried, I couldn’t develop a taste for it. Grandma also loved the Ice Capades and would spend her egg money for she and I to see them. Sitting in a large, darkened tent with all the beautiful costumes and graceful performances of the skaters, the music and the coolness from the ice made for a very memorable experience.

The Franklin Fourth of July Celebration was unbeatable. All put on by The Franklin Lions Club. Featuring “The World’s Best Burgoo” — hand-stirred all night. Sales of the burgoo paid for the most outstanding fireworks display in central Illinois at twilight. (Those still are provided today) Back in that time period, activities included bingo, watermelon seed-spitting contests, three-legged races and sack races. If you were lucky enough to mooch a quarter from someone, you were set for some cold refreshments. Today, I get $5 bills from the ladies at the bank to get “mooched” out of. I tell the bank ladies those are 1950s quarters! Inflation.

I remember being totally worn out after the fireworks and sleeping in the back of Uncle Ernie’s Pontiac on the way home. Fun times!

Most everyone was kinda poor back then … and didn’t really know it. During the World War II years, when many things (sugar, butter, tires, etc.) were rationed, we saved metal by cutting both ends out of a can, placing them in the can and smashing it flat. All aluminum foil was saved, even to the point of taking the inner paper out of cigarette packs and soaking it in water to remove the tiny bit of foil inside. At one time, we had a ball of foil about the size of a basketball to recycle.

Alexander had many memorable “characters”. One of my favorites was Spicy Pate, an older widowed lady who would walk the alley while whistling. Asked why she whistled all the time, she would say “to keep from crying.” Chub Colwell had Chub’s Garage and often was called on for bike repairs. Bill Ritter was a well digger, school bus driver and had a welding shop (bike repairs). He and his wife also raised several foster kids to adulthood.

Kentuck — as that’s the only name I ever heard him called — was a retired leftover from the crew from Danville that rebuilt the elevator that burned down. He spent his entire day downing cold beer from Aunt Puddy’s, as did several others. Lee Williams, another Kentuckian, had a small trucking business and was the hardest working man I’ve ever known. He expected the same from his employees and his many kids. George Wright, another hard working man, ran a carpenter business, was road commissioner, and in winter had a slaughter house.

Beulah Ruble lived right behind us and was a quilter, making beautiful quilts. Her grandson, Harold Wagner from Jacksonville, would visit her often in summertime. He and I have spent hours — no, days — in Monopoly battles! There actually are too many characters to mention here and all were hard workers. That’s all folks knew how to do.

Now, at the age of 83, I’m writing this remembrance — and hoping our esteemed editor finds it worthy of space in his paper so many who lived and enjoyed this era in history can read it. Hopefully, it brings back many pleasant memories. Writing it has taken me down the path of revisiting memories of a time and place in history that I wish could be repeated for my grandkids and great-grandkids.

Maybe virtual reality and AI will bring it back!