Like all great festivals, the observance of July 4th in Retro
Racine could not be confined to one day, but encompassed several days of celebration. Youngsters in the
50's first looked forward to the Doll Buggy Parade, which was held at various neighborhood parks. We baby boomers, aided by
our long-suffering but beaming parents, would decorate our buggies, bikes and trikes with red, white and blue crepe
paper, flags and pinwheels. (We also learned that neat trick how playing cards placed strategically
within the bicycle spokes would make a lot of noise!) Hundreds of kids participated in this annual event, which was a joyous
prelude to the 4th of July Parade. By the mid 60's, Racine was known as the Drum Corp Capitol of
the World, so festivities for the 4th would include a drum corp competition at Horlick Field on
the eve of July 3rd, which drew competitors from some distances. Drum corps in those days were closer to their
military roots, so their displays and formations were nearly always on patriotic themes, heightening
our anticipation for next day's parade. Finally, the big day arrived, and curbside blankets in place, we enjoyed that
communal sense of Americana that only July 4th can bring. As our hearts swelled, the bands,
floats and waving beauty queens passed by, but only one unit caused us to applaud respectfully and brush back
tears - the men in bronze, heroically depicting our nation's passion for freedom. The
earnestness in these men's faces said it all.
After the parade, there were carnival rides at Pershing
Park in the afternoon and resplendent fireworks at the lakefront after dark. Arriving home after the fireworks, we lit
sparklers and only after that were trundled off to bed. Our heartfelt observances of that day
made patriots out of many of us, and no matter where life would lead us, we remembered Independence Day in Racine. Many of
these traditions continue to this day as every year our Belle City celebrates her heritage.
Independence Days, 1968
Though every Fourth of July during the Retro Racine era seemed
like the greatest possible Independence Day celebration, 1968 is a year that stands out in my memory. 1968 was a great
year for music, a great year for cars, and in the summer of '68, I turned 16. That year summer vacation got off to a
roaring start. My girlfriends and I spent most of our afternoons at the "Zoo Beach", trying to create our own Wisconsin
version of the sun drenched California life made popular in the songs of the Beach Boys. With each dawn of another beautiful
sunny day and warm Lake Michigan temperatures, the summer indeed seemed endless and life idyllically carefree. Later
that summer we planned to take driving lessons at Racine Vocational School; feeling this surge of independence made us
bold to test the waters, and there was no one to stop us - no one, that is, except our parents. Coming home
late after curfew one time too many, I found myself in the worst possible teenage scenario - grounded. Worse yet,
the Fourth of July was the following week. It was one of my favorite holidays, and my girlfriend and I had looked
forward with much anticipation to the July 3rd Drum Corps Competition at Horlick Field. Sure, we liked the
music, but we were more interested in seeing the cute guys in their parade gear. After a week of good behavior - arriving
home at 5pm sharp for supper and staying home in the evening, my mother relented. I was allowed to go as long as we came straight
home after the show.
The evening of July 3rd was gorgeous, cool and crisp. We
left for Horlick Field right after supper, walking from the farther North Side- in those days kids walked everywhere. We arrived
in plenty of time to get good seats and observe our teenage heartthrobs from a strategic vantage point. What
a splendid evening it was! It might have been the year that the Kilties performed an unforgettable arrangement
of the hit song, McArthur Park. Minutes ticked away and soon the
stadium lights at Horlick Field illuminated that night's thrilling spectacle. Absorbed in the intricacies of sight and
sound, we lost track of time. It was past 10 pm! My folks would have already watched Bill Carlsen's weather forecast on TV and
gone to bed. The winner had not even been decided, but jumping up, I knew I had to get home. I was in dire danger of being
grounded for an extra two weeks, or more.
We ran most of the way home, down the darkened streets, down Douglas
Avenue, frantically gasping for breath as we paused at street corners. Finally arriving home, breathless and quaking
in my penny loafers, I brought my friend in with me to ease the confrontation. My mother came into the kitchen
wearing her housecoat with her hair in rollers. I tried to blurt out,"We came straight home, we came straight home,"
but before I could do that, my mother said, "It's OK - I know you came straight home because I could hear the music playing
all the way from Horlick Field." All the way from Horlick Field? It never occured to me that she would
hear the drums and bugles well over a mile away. What a relief! Again all was well in our Drum Corps Capitol
that night, poised to celebrate another joyous Fourth of July. Let freedom ring! Happy Independence Day.
Drum Corps Capitol
For a medium sized, industrial city of the '50's and '60's,
Retro Racine was a remarkably musical place. Music filled our homes, churches, parks, and concert halls, but of all the local
musical groups the drum corps were the most popular. Why? Because most area residents attended the annual
Fourth of July Parade, and from an early age kids learned to recognize our city's drum
corps. During the parade we clapped and cheered as they marched by and we identified them one by one. Drum corps music
filled the air on many a summer evening - while cutting the grass or playing outside it was common to hear the corps
rehearsing in our neighborhood parks. It was the sound of spring and summer, familiar as a thunderstorm and as right as rain.
Before long, we learned that our city was known as "Drum Corps Capitol of the World." We took pride
in this fact, but in all honesty, it was hard to imagine life any other way.
As a teenager, I particularly enjoyed
the drum corps competition that was held at Horlick Field annually on the July 3rd evening. The Racine Scouts
and the Kilties competed in this event and it was a rousing start to the July 4th celebrations. For wonderful, detailed information
on Racine drum corps through the years, I recommend the website www.racinekiltiealumni.org . I am grateful to that site for validating a long-time memory of an exciting arrangement
of "McArthur Park" that the Kilties played in their field show in the mid-'60's. During this time period, the drum corp
concept was expanding to include imaginative arrangements of popular songs, and this was an unforgettable one. I would
also recommend www.racinescouts.com for interesting historical information about the Racine Scouts - they have been active as a junior corps since 1927!
In the early sixties I briefly experienced drum corp life -
a new drum corps for girls, the Ambassa"Dears" was born. I was recruited during the winter of 1964 as this fledgling
group prepared for its summer season. A few weeks of learning the basics of marching sadly became the extent of my drum corps
experience. Marching while playing an instrument never was my forte. I made the wise decision to continue playing
the piano - an instrument that would never require marching. The Ambassa"Dears" went on to enjoy a moment in the
sun, growing to a membership of 100 by 1970. For some great pictures of this corps and others, I would again recommend
www.racinekiltiealumni.org .
Going Up North
The highlight of my Retro Racine summer was a
week's vacation up north. The destination was a housekeeping cottage near Tomahawk, Wisconsin and my dad's goal
was catching as many bluegills as possible. I was ambivilant about fishing, but I loved the enchanted north.
Going up north was an event filled with anticipation and a sense of mystery.
Early in the morning, while it was still dark, I would hear my mother bustling, tidying up the house and perking
coffee for a waiting thermos. My dad would be loading up the Nash and soon we would be pulling out of the driveway on our
yearly adventure.
Flying through the early morning darkness on the two
lane highway, we would often encounter rows of flaming smudge pots which lined construction areas or detours. Seeing these
beacons, eerily burning in the pitch-dark night, is one of my most vivid childhood memories.
As dawn broke, I would take notice of the towns we passed
through; lyrical sounding names like Oconomowoc created a texture to the trip that was uniquely and wonderfully Wisconsin.
As we arrived in Tomahawk near noon, it was important to get groceries,
gas and bait; one gas station near a lake had a floating buoy of one of my favorite vintage characters - the Hamm's
bear. I liked the tune and words of the jingle,"from the land of sky-blue waters.."
The northern atmosphere was intoxicating - the scent of the pine and
balsam was heavenly. After spending the day in water and fresh air, food tasted better and in the cool northern nights, sleep
was blissful.
Family life in the cottage seemed closer and less complicated. Since
there was no tv, the innocent '50's harkened back to an even simpler time - my mother played solitaire and my dad smoked a
pipe.
During the week we took trips to nearby places. I remember going to
Rhinelander, steeped in the legend of Paul Bunyan and his blue ox, Babe. I remember a blustery day on the
shores of beautiful Lake Nokomis, her waves choppy and grey - these experiences of Pure Wisconsin, which I
absorbed in my youth - remain with me to this day.
The week would fly by and soon it would be time to return to Racine.
Though the return trip was not as compelling as the beginning, there were friends to see, the rest of the summer to enjoy
and tv shows to watch. Next summer, all being well, I would again visit the enchanted north.
We Gather Together
"Over the river and through the woods,
to Grandmother's house we go"
The words of this famous Thanksgiving song that many of us
learned in school had a certain familiarity. On the way to grandmother's house for Thanksgiving, we went over Root
River and drove past the woods of Island Park, quiet and bare, awaiting the first snowfall. It was a time of anticipation.
As we arrived at Grandma's, we were welcomed
by a house full of relatives - uncles in white shirts and ties, aunts in their Sunday best, covered by pretty aprons and
plenty of cousins, darting about and getting into mischief. If only we knew how much we had to be thankful
for in those days! Little did we know that one day we would look wistfully back at the moments when we
were all together around the Thanksgiving table; in our youthful innocence we didn't realize how swiftly our lives would
change. For instance, in Retro Racine, families generally lived in the same locale - perhaps there were relatives
that came from Sturtevant or Franksville, but that usually was the extent of Thanksgiving holiday travel.
After our feast was over and we were feeling as stuffed and
trussed as the turkey, Grandma would exclaim,"You don't eat anything! You don't like my cooking?" Despite cries of protest,
there was always room for pumpkin pie or her delicious kuchen.
As we look back at the Thanksgiving holidays of years
gone by, there was an important difference between then and now. Thanksgiving Day had a unique quality - it
almost felt like Sunday. It was a day set apart, a time to join together in humble gratitude. On that day,
streets were quiet except for the ringing of church bells, and there was an unwritten rule that kids shouldn't call on
their neighborhood friends, so as not to intrude upon holiday dinners. The television was silenced and for
the most part, the holiday was largely free from commercialism and media intrusion. If we long for the Thanksgivings
of the past, we cannot turn back the clock, but we can bring back the essence of what made the holiday special and
beautiful. In doing so, we will create precious memories for future generations to cherish.
This year, may we know the joy of true thanksgiving for our
many blessings and for the dearly loved ones who grace our table.
A Retro Racine Christmas
Christmas in Retro Racine was
a most wonderful time.
Shaking the snow-globe of our memories, we recall getting
ready for Christmas; at school, we made "snowflakes" by artfully
folding and cutting paper. At home, around the kitchen table, we created ornaments for the
tree with styrofoam balls adorned with sequins and stars. Most of our homes had a picture window,
and we stenciled bells, candy canes,and holly leaves in each pane. We would also painstakingly cut strips of
red and green paper and paste them into rings, creating colorful chains to deck our tree.
Our parents also made important preparations. Our church gave
Christmas bags to the children, and my folks belonged to a church group that assembled the gift bags; each paper bag contained
an assortment of unshelled nuts, a huge apple and orange, a marshmallow Santa, a few chocolate coins and a candy cane. In
another instance, I remember my mother putting on her going-to-town hat and taking the Christmas Club
passbook from the dresser drawer. I didn't fully understand the importance of that colorful little book, but apparently it had something to do with the trip we made to the sumptuously decorated North Side
Bank. Flat Iron Square was a hub of activity on the north side, anchored by the bank across
the street. In the early '50's, it was a great little shopping area, and shoppers bustled in and out of the National Tea grocery
store and around the nearby dime store and drug store on the corner. On the other side of National Tea,
was Kristof's shoe store - a great place to buy a new pair of Buster Brown's to wear at Christmas. We often
stopped at the bookmobile parked on Wednesdays in the parking lot next to the grocery store. Ladies wearing gaily
decorated Christmas corsages on their coats, would drop in to Lamberton's to buy a few pair of hose, neatly wrapped
in a flat little box. On a night that is a nearly perfect Christmas memory, my brownie troop sang carols at
Flat Iron Square. It was like a scene from It's a Wonderful Life; red bells which
decked the city streets swayed in the wind and snow fell gently. Young and old joined in singing as the community
gathered near the manger scene and tall, brightly lit tree.
Another wonderful memory is taking the bus downtown with an
older brother for last minute Christmas shopping; in those days the gray buses with the chiffy air brakes were designated
by color - we took the Yellow Line. What a fun - filled excursion! Crossing the street in front of Eitels,
we ended up at the Lerner Shops.
We went downstairs to buy a bathrobe
for Mom and found a richly colored, glamorous one - a robe like Loretta Young might wear, one that Mom
deserved. She thought it was far too fancy.
When Christmas Eve afternoon arrived, it was time for a special
movie; every Christmas Eve they aired Shirley Temple in Heidi on Theater at Four, on channel 4, hosted
by Judy Marx. Theater at Four had a certain leisurely late afternoon, mellow atmosphere - classic ball clock on
the wall, and theme song, that retro classic, The Syncopated Clock. Judy
was always smartly dressed in a knit suit and brooch, and her pleasant personality made the show a local
favorite; watching Shirley Temple's Heidi would put anyone in the Christmas spirit.
After the show it was time to don a nylon Christmas
dress and get ready for church as the long-awaited night had finally arrived. Getting
in the Nash, we drove through a night made glorious with the color of Christmas lights reflected in snow.
As I fondly look back, I see that life didn't get much better than this. It was in Retro Racine that I first
experienced the miracle that is Christmas Eve - an ordinary night transformed and filled with silent wonder as it was then
and still is, each and every year.
A Retro Racine Easter
My Easter memories of Retro Racine are brightly colored, like a freshly
dyed basket of eggs. These images still speak to me of re-birth and renewal and the newness of life in Southeastern Wisconsin. Though
I was a young child at the time, I recall the annual Tre Ore services that Lutherans held at
Memorial Hall. This three hour Good Friday observance consisted of six half hour services - a joint effort of several congregations.
I enjoyed the opportunity of going to church with my neighbors, and my mother and I rode downtown with a little friend and
her mother in their '58 Buick Special. I still recall the ambience in Memorial Hall that
Good Friday, probably in 1959. The stage was transformed into a chapel, complete with an altar and an organ. I try to recall
more details, but my overall impression is of purple - perhaps a Cross solemnly adorned with purple and surrounded by Easter
lilies. Several years later, I remember taking the bus downtown on the afternoon before Easter
to buy my mother an Easter corsage. Again, a burst of color predominates my memoirs; flower vendors were positioned
in front of Neisners' and Kresges' dime stores and sold their vibrantly hued blooms and corsages as shoppers bustled around.
There were more vendors at Monument Square, and I recall Fanny Farmer's on the corner was also doing a brisk business.
It was not a day to linger downtown, as there were more important preparations to do at home.
In the late afternoon of Holy Saturday, it was finally time to color eggs. My mother would spread newspapers over the kitchen
table, and gather clean glass jars and coffee cups no longer in use. She would open the Paas Easter egg
coloring kit. I can still remember the smell of vinegar and the steaming boiling water as we prepared the dyes. Some colors
turned out richly beautiful, and there were the inevitable experiments of blending two or more colors together,
but I always enjoyed coloring eggs no matter how they turned out. An Easter corsage for
our mothers was only a small token of thanks for all they did to make Easter a special day. New clothes were
an important part of Easter Day celebration in Retro Racine. Men and boys' suits needed to be cleaned, and white
shirts freshly laundered and starched. Boys often wore their first pair of new Buster Brown shoes for the spring, and Dad's
best dress hat was spiffed up. Mom saved
most of her energy for dressing up us girls; our hair was set in curlers, and some of us endured home permanents,
emerging with hair that was so tightly curled that it would make Shirley Temple wince. Then we were
dressed like the flowers of spring in pastel nylons and organdies - soft pink, powder blue, pale yellow dresses with
puffy, lace edged sleeves and wide sashes. Since it was still chilly, we also needed spring coats, often in pert
navy blue, or shorter car coats in pastel chiffon. Of course, women and girls wore hats to church, and our Easter hats were
a delight - decked with flowers, ribbons and more nylon which matched our dresses. We were a sight to behold, and with white
gloves in hand, we were ready for Easter Sunday. Our church held an Easter Sunrise service at 6:00 AM, so likely we had to be up by 5:00 AM or earlier to put
on all this finery. I was usually up by then anyway, snooping around to see if the Easter Bunny had made his annual visit.
I remember the joy of speckled malted milk eggs, hidden in a basket of green Easter grass, brightly colored jelly beans, usually
a stuffed rabbit with a satiny pink ribbon around his neck and another hollow chocolate bunny named, "Mr. Binks" or some such
name. It would be more joy to devour his tantalizing ears first. Easter Day dawned with
much happiness in Retro Racine, but no amount of happy memories could ever compare with the eternal joy of our Easter
Faith.
Radio Memories of Retro Racine
"Calling all cars, calling all cars, stand by for lucky license time"..."America,
awake - the Breakfast Club is on the air"... These are only a few of the many radio memories of Retro Racine.
While it is true that in the 1950's and '60's, television was the evening focus of most living rooms, radio ruled the
kitchen, especially in the early morning hours until noon. Then it was time to listen for the water temperature at North Beach
and the daily commentary by Paul Harvey, a staple in most households.
Many of us woke up to the peppy strains of Don McNeill's Breakfast
Club, or perhaps your earliest morning memory was the organ rendition of "Rock-a-bye Baby" which preceded the
birth announcements. By far, my favorite radio memory was of Helen Thomas' Party Line,
which was heard most mornings. Many of our mothers tuned in faithfully, and if they were home, our dads feigned disinterest,
but they listened also. Who knows, they might hear about a pair of good used tires for free. Party Line was
a call-in show that was a combination on-the-air garage sale and clearinghouse for helpful household hints. "Helen,
I had a set of custom made drapes made for the front room, and I can't use them since we painted. I wonder if one of your
listeners would like them." "Helen, my five year old was playing with
Silly Putty and forgot to put it back in its egg, and it ran into my new carpet! I've tried everything - can you
help me?" Helen had a wonderfully warm and comforting manner which gave us complete confidence
in her knowledge of domestic matters and instantly made the caller feel that a solution would be found. If Helen didn't
know that answer, one of her callers did. I would stay within earshot of the kitchen just in
case a caller would phone in with a a new litter of puppies or kittens that were free to a good home, which was, unfortunately,
something I was never allowed to pursue. It was fun to hear about them anyway, and that's probably what most listeners
from Retro Racine thought about Helen's show - you just might learn something.
Memoirs of a Boomer
This site is a wonderful
step back in time, although I'm not sure I'd like to live through it again! I can relate to almost all of the
offerings, but recall specifically:
Ole Yeller downtown and the Ma and Pa Kettle movies which
I believe played at the Uptown Theater. And yes, I was usually somewhere around the block in line!
Speaking of the Rialto and Venetian, I always tried to get a balcony
seat so I could throw popcorn down on the people below (of course, I was very pre-teen then.)
Once I got on the Blue Line and didn't get off in front of my house
( I was 11 and lived on North Main St.) because I figured on getting off at the stop across the street from my house. Well,
by the time the bus went to the end of the route, took a break, and got back to where I needed to get off, my folks had already
called in a search party!
The Main St. Bridge going up as I was pushing my 1 year old brother
across the street in a stroller - what a fright!
And the time we discovered a shopping cart someone left by North Beach.
We rode it from the top of the street (can't remember the name - Hubbard?) hill to the bottom and still haven't figured out
how we didn't break something.
Young men graduating from high school with their diploma in one hand
and draft card in the other.
Being sent to the principal's office at Horlick by Miss Armaganian (sp?)
because my bangs were too "Beatle" long.
Being in the largest graduating class at Horlick High before Case High
School existed.
Believing Mr. Barootian was the bestest English Lit teacher ever.
Birthday parties at Kiddieland.
Walking across the old Horlick Dam and bringing out of town guests with
me. One night some creature passed us on the timbers and we almost fell in.
Fourth of July Parade - I still go back for that and the North Beach
fireworks to enjoy with my grandkids. I grew up thinking every town had a huge July 4 parade and a Danish bakery every few
blocks.
Illinois Tollway gift shops carried "Chocolate Covered Menageries" that
included grasshoppers, bees and ants.
Almost every adult had a Danish layer cake from O&H for their birthday.
Riding in the milk truck to my one-room school on bitter days, bringing
my assortment of hula hoops along.
Sitting in a room with eight grades and the teacher starting the day
with the Pledge of Allegiance and checking to make sure we each brought a hankerchief.
Saying grace as a class before lunch in a public school.
The beginning of one of the biggest and longest-lasting tragedies to
ever hit the area - Unified School. I went to the new facility - West Ridge - the first year of Unified. Landscaping wasn't
complete, so we dubbed our colors "Mud and Green."
Marvelous outings at Petrifying Springs and Brown's Lake.
Don Hutson Chevrolet and Ed Vorel's Packard Garage.
Rare but exciting trips to Riverview in Chicago.
Taking "orders" and making those "oleo runs" with my big sister.
Riding my bike so fast over a hill and colliding with a dog on the way
down. A man living in the area packed me and my bike in his car and brought me to grandma's for bandaging. I wonder if a good
samaritan could take that chance today.
Putting pennies and stones on the old North Shore tracks and waiting
for the train to come and smash them.
Those fabulous trips to downtown Racine with Sears, J.C. Penney's, Woolworths
and the other dime stores. I loved finding the squeaky spots in Sear's old wood floors!
My mom worked at the County Home on Hwy 31. It had a pond and big trees
in front. She would frequently let us visit some of the residents there. One elderly gent drew a fantastic portrait of my
dog for me.
My dad and stepmother operated the A&W Root Beer stand in Sturtevant
when it exploded into history.
Okay, I guess this is addictive. The more one is reminded, the more there
is to remember! Indeed, Racine was a great place for a kid to grow up - at least until about the late '60's.
Jo (Gustavson) Kutzner, Horlick Class of l967
When the Braves left Milwaukee
Sadder but wiser devotees of the great game of baseball know
that sooner or later the game will break your heart. Some of us retro baseball fans of Southeastern Wisconsin suffered
this malady at an all too early age when the Braves left Milwaukee.
My first recollection of the Milwaukee Braves was when
I was about 5 years old. My parents were doing some house painting and a blaring radio was poised on a stepladder. "What's
on?", I asked, and the answer was,"the Braves' game - the Braves are playing in the World Series." My parents didn't
normally follow baseball, and this heightened sense of excitement and anticipation made me aware that something
special was taking place.
My next experience with baseball was a few years later, waiting
for the Cubs games to wrap up on WGN TV, Channel 9, so I could watch my kids' shows. I remember well the those gritty black
and white images from Wrigley Field. There was a distinct ambience around these famous afternoon games; the announcer,
Jack Brickhouse (Hey! hey!) often seemed on the brink of apoplexy as he called the games for his Cubbies, and the
rotund fellow inviting us to "laugh our troubles away" at Riverview Park seemed already overcome with hysteria.
Riverview and Wrigley Field captured our imaginations, but sitting through the Cubs' extra innings was annoying
just the same - a kid shouldn't have to wait to watch Garfield Goose, Romberg Rabbit, Beauregard Burnside III and Fraser Thomas.
I didn't realize it had happened,
but I had already succumbed to the slow, entrancing rhythm of baseball. Between the wind up and the pitch, existed the timelessness
of summer - the sun would rise again on another beautiful day and there would always be another game. I did not
give my allegiance to the Cubs, but gave my heart to the Milwaukee Braves, who were slowly declining both in
attendance and wins after their spectacular World Series victory in 1957.
What can we say? The human heart is fickle. I suppose the beauty
of having a sports team in a larger, more populous market is that while some fans are jumping off the bandwagon,
there are plenty more jumping on. When the need to turn a profit conflicts with hometown pride and fan
loyalty, the business side usually wins; but who can give a satisfactory explanation to adoring kids and die-hard
fans who spend meager wages to support their heroes? Say it ain't so! For those of us who remember our Milwaukee
Braves, time has healed our loss but don't ever ask us to cheer for Atlanta.
