Life in the Brick House

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My childhood was really a magical time. Aunt Helen and Uncle Elwyn had an apartment upstairs in the brick house, the two sunporches and bedrooms at the back of the house. The sunporch on the north served as their bedroom; the room next to it was their kitchen/dining area, the next room was their living room and the sunporch to the south was their spare room. It was really quite something to my young eyes, and I would go upstairs to visit Aunt Helen regularly, always knocking before entering. After all, there was the privacy issue. We children also learned early to be very quiet when we went upstairs to bed at night so as to not disturb them.

The bathrooms upstairs were shared by all of us except Uncle John and Grandmother, who both slept downstairs. I’ll add the males of the family were expected to use the outhouse during the day. The upstairs bathroom was divided in two sections, one with a tub and sink; the other with the toilet. That certainly was a blessing with so many people needing to use the facility. The tub room was the only room with heat, a vent which brought heat from downstairs. So we all had lots of blankets and flannel sheets on our beds in the wintertime to keep us warm. We children were also the proud possessors of hot water bottles, which we would fill at night and put at our feet to get them warmed up before going to sleep. 

On hot summer evenings, the entire occupancy of the house sat out in the back yard, each with his/her own lawn chair. We read until nearly dark, and didn’t go inside until nine o’clock or so. Just as the upstairs bedrooms were cold in the winter, they were also hot in the summer months. Three beds were installed on the front porch, and John, Ray and I slept there during the hot summer nights. It was not only cooler; it was great fun – sort of a camp-out every night.

Everyone pitched in with house and farm chores. John had such a love of all aspects of farming that he soon became an integral part of the outdoor operations. I became the indoor helper, and I could put a full meal on the table for many people by the time I was eleven or twelve. Ray, the youngest, wasn’t spared chores either. He and I both took our turns being the derrick drivers during haying seasons. I was glad when he got old enough to take this particular duty from me. Uncle John was in charge of a very large family garden. We all took our turns to help gather vegetables and pick berries (every other day). We also helped snap beans, shell peas, peal fruit and husk corn in preparation for meals or for canning.

We children were always given free time too. I remember helping out in the mornings, but as soon as dinner (noon) was over and dishes done, I was free to do as I pleased. I spent a lot of time during the summer on my bicycle. My first bike was a hand-me-down from multiple cousins. It was small, and we didn’t have training wheels. The only time I remember my dad running was when I was learning to balance that bicycle. He put a piece of wood under the back fender and ran behind me was I wobbled down the driveway.

I received my “big bike” for my 8^th birthday.  I rode around the farm pretending all sorts of adventures along with my pretend friend, “Mrs. Os-ca-boo-bee.” I have no idea where that made-up name came from. I also spent quite a bit of time at the corner of the barnyard beside the feedlot. I would pretend to play records on the back of my bicycle and sing to the cattle. They were a great audience, coming to the fence to look adoringly (I thought) at me. They were my very first audience.

On very hot afternoons and in the winter, time was spent reading books or playing with my paper dolls. I had enough of those dolls to cover half of our large living room floor. My favorite dolls were cut from pattern books, which Clark Hamilton (Hamilton’s Store in Weiser) saved for me when he replaced them with new editions. I also liked to embroider. I cannot tell you how much time Grandmother must have spent untangling the snarls in my embroidery thread.

John’s hobby to me seemed to be working, but he liked to read as well. Ray was an avid sportsman. He spent many summer days at the front of the house throwing his ball against the front porch. I think he was supposed to hit the uprights which held the screening, but he missed enough times that the screens became tattered. He tells me that I was pretty embarrassed at how shoddy I thought that made the front of the brick house look. (I’m pretty sure the screens were repaired many times during Ray’s growing up years.)

Uncle Elwyn and Aunt Helen had a child, Dorothy, so the house burgeoned with 10 people. They built the white frame house next door and moved to their own place when Dorothy was about a year old. We immediately spread out in the upstairs of the brick house, and I had my own room at last. I was about ten years old. My room was the room toward the barnyard that had been my uncle and aunt’s living room. John took the “kitchen,” and Ray stayed in the room next to Mom and Dad’s. (Their room was the front bedroom on the southwest corner.)

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From Kathryn Turner Baker