Long, long ago, I can still remember when…
Picture this: Labor Day Weekend, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in the 1950s, a place where my memories still guide me whenever I need to take a trip away from the madness and mayhem of today. I understand and using a phrase from the song “The Way We Were, “Misty watercolor memories. Of the way we were.”
Ugh, the end of summer, even though way back then for me, when days did seem to last forever, somehow summer did give way to fall, and the reality of summer freedom fell hard on my young psyche. But Labor Day Weekend was always the Grand Finale, preparing a sendoff from the days of so much to do and so much time to do them.
On Friday, the final inspection of our ‘Father and Son Shoes with the rubber four-inch soul, guaranteed to last for an entire summer or your money back, was completed, and we went to Father and Son Shoes in East Liberty to get our dress-up shoes for school. Friday afternoon meant a trip to the Squirrel Hill News Stand, the purchasing of last-minute school supplies, and a few comic books from what seemed to me at the time, the largest collection of comic books in the world.
When Saturday arrived, it was time to visit South Park Swimming Pool. Back in the day, Labor Day was the official closing of swimming pools in Allegheny County. Back in those days, Polio was still prevalent, and the rumor from the parents across Pittsburgh was that somehow after Labor Day, if you went swimming, that is when Polio might attack you. Saturday night for our family was a final trip to the Greater Pittsburgh Drive-In and parking in the precise space from which, if you turned and twisted your head and body, you could not only watch one drive-in movie but could see the screens of the other two. It was a three-for-one night.
Sunday was a neighborhood picnic, at which the smell of lighting fluid and charcoal danced with the delights of chicken, hot dogs, and hamburgers. Sunday night, the kids on our block sat on a porch and discussed all of the wonders of our past summer, considering what it might be like to be in a new grade in school and if there would be new kids to meet.
Monday, we helped my father, the Sergeant of Police at the number 6 Police Station in Squirrel Hill, place 12” flags on all of the neighbor’s lawns. We then walked over to Shady Avenue, found a good spot, and cheered as the Labor Day Parade proudly represented the laborers and workers who made Pittsburgh the Steel City. Monday night was both an evening of melancholy and mystery. Summer fun, summer freedom, ending, but a whole new set of adventures about to begin.
