Summer
in Emmitsburg
Cheryl
Ashbaugh-White
In the 60's there was not
a lot to do in Emmitsburg for teenagers, or so I
thought. On a typical Friday evening my cousin, Carole
Weidner and I would hang out around the Bowling Alley
and watch her Dad bowl on his league. Teenagers could
forget about renting a lane on Friday or Saturday
evening for bowling. The lanes were all reserved with
leagues. If there was a good movie we would go to
GEM
theatre. Of course, by the time the movies came
to the GEM they were several months old.
That was okay; it
was our first time seeing the movie. Carole and I
weren't allowed yet to go to the drive-in movies, but we
always found a way around the rule and a bunch of us
would pile into a car and go. Occasionally, I would
sneak into the pool hall, which was on the corner
square. My Grandma didn't like me going into the pool
hall. When she found out, I would get into BIG TROUBLE.
I got my first lesson in shooting pool from Dick
Hartman.
In the summer there was a
carnival every weekend in a surrounding town. My
Grandma, cousin Carole, and I would pile into Grandma's
station wagon and Aunt Tiny would drive us to Rocky
Ridge or Taneytown. I would spend the evening hanging
around the carnival riding on the rides, watching the
grownups play bingo or just shooting the breeze with the
carnival employees. The swings were my favorite and I
would ride them for hours letting my long hair blow in
the wind and daydream. When the carnival came to
Emmitsburg, Carole and I would go down in the morning
and watch them setup the rides and game booths.
The carnival was always setup on
the field next to the shoe factory. We would spend hours
talking (or maybe it was more flirting) with the rough
looking young guys that were setting up. We usually got
free rides when the carnival would open that evening. I
thought how adventuresome it would be to go from town to
town all summer on a job. I even thought it would be fun
to run away and join the carnival.
Then there were the regular St
Joseph's bingo games on the front lawn of the church.
They were attended by the older generation in town, but
Carole and I would usually go over and listen to the
grownup's gossip. I even played one time and won a cake
tin holder.
Carole and I spent a lot of our
summer days sitting in the rockers or on the railing of
Grandma's front pouch watching the cars go by. Back
then, they didn't have the bypass around Emmitsburg and
all the trucks and cars going across the Pennsylvania
line towards Gettysburg would pass Grandma's house on
North Seton Avenue. Carole and I would sit in Grandma's
old rockers on Saturdays and Sundays and count the out
of state license plates. We especially liked watching
the military convoys go by. The soldiers would yell and
wave, and of course we would yell and wave back. We
would also watch the local boys cruise around in their
cars. I still remember Jimmie Wastler 's two-toned
turquoise Chevy BelAir and Johnny Knott's black Ford
Fairlane. Sometimes they would stop and pick us up to go
cruising with them.
There wasn't a lot of work in
town in the sixties for teenagers however, when summer
came around a lot of the boys would go fruit picking.
The cherry orchard paid fifty cents a bucket. Well, I
had this bright idea that Carole and I could do it too.
See, I was and still am, one of those girls that think
they can do just as much as the guys can. My Grandma was
totally against it, but like usual, I could talk her
into about anything. One day during the summer of 1965,
Carole and I went cherry picking up at Catoctin
Orchards. We got up around the break of dawn to catch
the old jalopy looking truck that would take us up to
the orchard. There were about ten guys piled into the
back of the truck and we were the only 2 girls that day.
We knew most of them, so it was okay.
So, off we went to climb ladders
and pick. In the morning it wasn't too bad, but by
midday it was so hot with the sun beating down on you.
The sweat was rolling off my forehead and I could hardly
keep it out of my eyes. I had cherry juice all over my
clothes, arms, and legs. Not only that, but the bees
were swarming around. It seemed like it took hours to
fill a bucket, for us it did. I think we ate as many
cherries as we put in the bucket. By the time the truck
came to pick us up and count the buckets we had picked
that day, we had a total of two! This was a lot of work
for only a dollar. I look back on that time and we
probably did more talking, goofing off, and flirting
than picking. That evening on the way home we decided we
really didn't need the money. The next morning we slept
in.
Like so many young teenagers,
both boys and girls in the 60's I had to try cigarette
smoking. You were cool if you smoked, and everyone
wanted to be cool. I had been warned by my Dad and
Grandma not to smoke. But of course, I didn't listen.
One summer afternoon, Carole had gotten some cigarettes
and we were going to try smoking. We didn't have any
matches so we went to her house to use the stove. I bent
my head down over the gas-stove burners to lite the
cigarette. The next thing I knew my bangs had caught on
fire. I quickly jerked my head up from the burner and
starting patting the fire off of my bangs. You could
smell the Burnet hair; my bangs were badly singed. I was
terrified that my Grandma would notice my Burnet hair.
I tried to go unnoticed that
day, but my Grandma who put the fright in me discovered
my Burnet hair. She told me she was going to tell my
father and I knew he would but me on restriction and
probably make me come back home to Wheaton for the
summer. I pleaded, for her not to tell Dad and even
promised that I would never try smoking again. As I said
earlier, I could talk Grandma into almost anything and I
won out. She didn't tell Dad and it wasn't until I
joined the Air Force in 1970 that I tried smoking again.
I never acquired the taste for cigarettes and smoking is
differently not the cool thing to do.
I had a crush on Bobby Myers
every since I could remember. But to him I was a kid, a
friend of the family. His parents lived behind my
Grandma's house and he used to go hunting and hung out
with my cousin, Billy. One Saturday afternoon Bobby had
come into the Ashbaugh's store and I was in there
helping out. My Uncle Tick started teasing Bobby and I
about each other. Boy, did his face get red. The next
thing I knew, my Uncle joking said, " why don't you
take her to a movie". To my shock, he said,
"oh sure". I couldn't believe it; Bobby was
going to take me to the movies. I couldn't wait to run
down to Carole's house and tell her I was going out with
Bobby. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I wanted
to make sure I really looked extra grown up, so I teased
my hair as all the girls did during the 60's, or as my
Grandma would say, "why are your ratting your
hair?" and put enough makeup on to look twice my
age.
My heart was pounding as I
waited for Bobby to pick me up at Grandma's store. I was
beginning to think he wasn't coming because he was late.
He did show up and as we walked down the street towards
the movie theater, I thought this night would be
special. He didn't hold my hand, but that was all right,
I was going on my FIRST date with Bobby. I can't begin
to tell you how excited I was about this date. Not
knowing that after the date, I would want to curl up and
hide from everyone. My wish had finally come true; I was
going out with Bobby. I was sure then, he must like me,
or why would he agree to take me out. When we got up to
the big glass ticket window at the theater and the lady
sitting behind the window said," how many
tickets", Bobby said, "1 child's and 1
adult". I wanted to die. I couldn't believe my
ears. Did he say, 1 CHILD ticket? No, I must have heard
someone else say that behind us.
There was no one behind us, it
was Bobby. My Uncle always said he was tight with his
money, well this proved it. Why else would he embarrass
me and buy a child's ticket. Of course I was under the
age limit for an adult ticket, but still, I looked older
and if he really liked me he wouldn't embarrass me. He
bought the tickets and we went in. There, sitting in the
theater, was my cousin Billy and several of the other
guys Bobby hung around with. They had heard that he was
taking me out and wanted to come and see. We went over
and sat next to them and the rest of the evening he
talked and goofed around with the guys, never paying any
more attention to me. So even today, over 35 years
later, when I see the Elvis Presley movie," Girls,
Girls, Girls" I still think about my first date and
Bobby.
Read
other stories by Cheryl Ashbaugh-White
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