And Yet More Memories at 38th and Speedway
(Note: The letter below was passed on to us, for wider distribution, by our friend and neighbor Laurence Becker of 507 Park Blvd. Laurence was born on 39 1/2 Street, and moved to Park Blvd. in 1939, when he was three years old. He wrote Ms. Kennard that her letter in our January issue had sparked memories of his first paying job, as a ten year-old -- a $0.25 per day gig at the former grocery store at 38th and Speedway.)Dear Mr. Becker,
Thank you so much for your response to my story about the store at 38th and Speedway. I have not seen the Pecan Press yet, but Ann Graham has just posted several copies to me here in West Virginia. After reading your letter, I tried to recall if a 10 year old boy ever waited on me at that store, but quick calculation caused me to realize that I was no longer living on Speedway when you were there. I was born in late 1937, and we moved to the Speedway house in early 1940, when I was about 2-1/2 years old. I must have been sent on errands to the store when I was somewhere between 5 and 7 years old. I'm so glad that building has had a stay of execution. It's not a remarkable building, but so many people have interesting memories of the place in its various incarnations.
In about 1944 or '45, we moved to a little house in the 100 block of East 40th street, across the street from the side entrance of Shettles Memorial Methodist Church. We were next door to another little store on the corner of Speedway and 40th. I participated in some criminal activity along with a neighbor boy during that period. In those days the soda pop coolers were just large metal ice chests chock full of icy water, as I am sure you recall. The neighbor boy and I each bought 7-Ups, took them outside and drank the soda. Then, because 7-Up was a clear drink, we thought it was a great and good joke to fill our bottles with water, carefully put the caps back on, and somehow slip them back into the cooler. What a surprise to some unsuspecting customer! Sort of reverse shoplifting, and really just as bad. Oh my! I think we only dared to do that once...and we were never caught. I don't want to falsely accuse anyone because of my foggy memory, but I think my partner in mischief was 'little' Tommy Muir, also about 7 years old, who lived 'round the corner on Speedway on the other side of the store. Later, in my 40s I ran into the grown-up Tommy Muir, and was astonished that he not only managed to escape a life of crime, but was transformed into Tom Muir, PhD, scientist.
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