If I Had A Nickel

Dropping a nickel into the change collector, then walking to the back of the swaying bus was the start of a new adventure. My brother was taking a pouch of coins to the Beacon News building. It was this week's paper route money. It was my first trip without Mom or Dad taking me. My brother, Michael, had actually volunteered to take me along. So many times he would go somewhere by himself, leaving me to play with my toy cowboy collection either under the porch or the lilac bushes. Rainy days were spent in the back of the attic drawing wanted posters, or Patty Mathew. Bad guys were chased across the attic floor by the fastest posse of toy cowboys. 

Crossing the old and shaky High Street bridge, the bus driver shifted gears as the bus struggled to get over it. Looking down, you could see steam engines taking train cars to the different shops to be fixed. The bridge spanned the rail yards of the CB&Q railroad. My dad and some of my uncles worked there, at the Q. 

The wood planks of the sidewalk bounced as the bus passed by. Someday this old bridge is just going to fall down, a man said to me. Passing St. Nick's church and Great Auntie Ann's house, the bus rolled on stopping here and there to pick up more passengers. Some people knew who we were and asked about Mom and Dad. 

Reaching our stop, Michael pulled the cord to stop the bus. He actually took my hand as we started to weave our way across town to the Beacon News building. Downtown was a busy place when I was little. A dozen boys waited to turn over their route collection money. Bobby Miller, Roger White, and two other Pigeon Hill boys were in line ahead of us. They were interested in trading comic books with Michael and asked if my brother had seen the movie at the Paramount, "Space Invaders.”  It was Saturday and tickets were half price up till six o'clock. Science fiction was Michael's favorite genre of books, and movies too. It was my first movie, even then I could see the wires holding up the flying saucer. There was a lot of booing and popcorn being tossed. 

The bus ride home had more adventure than that movie.  Robert Tayler in The Last Buffalo Hunter was going to be there next week. I began drawing buffalos then from a nickel I'd taken from Dad's dresser drawer.   

Mixing Time & Colors

Setting the time machine up on my easel, laying the colors out on my palette, and I'm ready to venture backwards. A model posing in the dancing light pouring in through the studio window. Memories of my cousin Barbara laying in a hammock strung between tall, straight oak trees. A breeze sings for the light to dance too. The Aunts are in Uncle Al's river cabin baking bean casseroles and slicing ham. Uncle Tom is down the wooden and dirt stairs baiting hooks, as the cousins pull black bullheads from the river. Dad and Uncle Al have walked down the road from the cabin to see how the glasshouse is being built…

The first colors run down the canvas and I am brought back to the studio to push one of those colors here and there. Never surprised, my model sees I've put her in a yellow dress and not in the blue one I had requested her to wear.

Suddenly, a carp jumps into the boat and I'm drawn back time-traveling. Grandma calls for us to come to shore for picture time. The bullheads can wait for more worms, as the fishing poles are laid to rest and cousins gather round Grandpa and Grandma for a photo. Uncle Paul lines everyone up and snaps off a roll of film. Aunt Marie calls for everyone to get their chipped china plate. Time to say a prayer and eat. The cabin is wall to wall food. With ten uncles and ten aunts and countless cousins, the casseroles disappear quickly. Bags of Lay potato chips satisfy the cousins, with chocolate cakes waiting. Uncle John pulls up on his Harley and cousins line up for rides. 

Lines accompany the running colors, as a mixture of time forms on the canvas. The present comes forth with the call for detail. Cousin Barbara fades as Jordan appears on my canvas.