Barbed wire does not seem like much of a novelty anymore, but in the late nineteenth century when I. L. Ellwood, one of its inventors, debuted his unique version of the fencing, it made him a trade baron to be reckoned with.
Her doctor’s advice, “eat anything you want, Helen, just don’t swallow it,” characterizes the majority of her life.
On the morning mom left for her first vacation without us, Dad was alone for a full twenty minutes before he realized he had no idea where to find his underwear.
In those days, John Wayne stole her heart; here was a man who took charge, protected women, and looked good doing it.
Down a slender gravel path – little more than a farm service road – in rural west central Illinois, twenty miles or so from the Mississippi River, in the township of Sumner, in the county of Warren, lies the Sugar Tree Grove Cemetery, established in 1830 as the original site of the first church in that county.
I spent a lot of time in the 1950s in the 1980s. My first decades were traveled in an ersatz time machine: a two-tone, two door, 1955 Chevrolet Bel-Air. My father’s favorite child, that Bel-Air symbolized his past and future. For his family, the 50s meant mobility – literal and figurative – when they, like so many, imagined themselves en route to the “good life” promoted in the advertising images they slavishly emulated.