here I am with the weather report, it is raining. I was totally surprized that "I" went out. She didn't stay long. I can hear the steady beat of the rain on the window air unit and think it might lull me back to sleep. But I know it wouldn't so I will just stay up.
As I am getting older, I am like many other older people. Think of by gone days and remember them as better than the present. But I truly believe that the inventions of Malls were our downfall. I am smiling because Mallies would cringe at this, Oh I know all these wonderful stores, all in one location. Warm in the winter, cool in the summer. Places to eat, movies. You can enter the Mall, stay for hours and do anything you want just about anyway. I am not a mall fan. Because at the birth of the mall, came the death of down towns. The death bell tolled when some guy muttered the words, "I'm building a mall." I wish I could draw, paint or something. Show you a picture of downtown Joplin as I was growing up. It was wonderful
Back then I was allowed from the time I was about eight to go downtown if I wanted. We lived only four blocks off on Main. From seventh and Main, till at least third and Main, it was stores, movies, resturants. The Frisco building, tall and majestic stood at sixth and main. It was twelve stories, now I know that is nothing these days. But it was back then. All the Doctors, Dentist's, lawyers had their offices there. And they had stairs and a elevator. The beautiful black and white ceramic floors, the staircase that curved down. A radio station that was on the bottom level. Where you could stand at a large glass window and watch the DJ's. I loved the Frisco, it still stands today, it was empty for years but has apartments now. I was happy to see they saved it by making it into housing. I had been afraid they would tear it down. I would have loved to have bought it and lived on all the floors. This place was my Saturday ritual. I would ride the elevator up to the top floor. The friendly older elevator lady smiling at me and then I walked the back stairs down. I did not come down by the fancy front stairs. I loved the old ones in the back of the building. There was a window on each floor with a fire escape. I loved to look out at the train depot and dream about all the places I wanted to go. They would chase a kid out of a place like that these days. A young kid wandering around, Probably call child endangerment but they didn't.
I would leave there and go straight across the street to Newman's. It was a department store. It was six floors. Between the first and second floor was a mezzanine. The bathrooms were there and soft chairs that you could sit on and look out over the store. Guess who sat there every Saturday afternoon, viewing her kingdom. Yep, me. I loved the mezzanine. I rode the elevator up. I rode the elevator down. Newman's and the Frisco were my favorite haunts.
There was three other department stores, Christman's, Penney's and Ramseys. . There was four dimestore's. Kids today have no idea what they are missing. Dime stores had everything, plus a soda fountain. Then there were movies. The Orpham, Fox and the Paramount. Plus one at second and main called the Deray. The Deray leaves a sad memory for me. Because that was the only movie black people were allowed to attend. And then only to sit in the balcony. Of course anyone that knows me, knows this is not a subject I should go into. I get angry thinking about a time when people with the money to watch a movie was not allowed to do so, except at the Deray and then oly upstairs. The one good idea about the new era is finally most people are starting to get the hang of what, "Created Equal," is suppose to mean. But back then, it wasn't that way. So even I have to say, maybe the good old days wasn't perfect after all.
There was a pet store behind Ramsey's, across the alley. Not a pet store like you know today. Sure not Petsmart. It was a old building and you went upstairs. They had rooms of birds. You could look in the windows at the doors, they were covered with screen. All colors, all kinds, flying freely in the room. Usually there would be a parrot or two in the main room, in cages. I loved to stand and listen to them talk andsquawk. It was wonderful.
I cannot tell about downtown, without telling about Sherman's orange juice stand. A little store tucked between Penney's and Bob Millers Restaurant. Just a tiny slip of a place. They had a counter, no stools at this counter to sit down. But on the opposite side wall was a narrow counter, with maybe eight very short stools. Where you could sit, if you were not on your lunch break, taking your sandwich with you. They served sandwich's. Not burgers or fries. Nothing cooked to order. But the best ham, ham salad, tuna salad sandwich's in the world. All made ahead of noon hour rush and wrapped in wax paper, sealed tightly. But their wonder drink was what people loved. You could get a half and half. Half orange juice, half grape. Now I'm not talking the make believe drinks with no real juice. I'm talking real juice. I still can taste it on my lips as it slid down my throat. Ambrosia.
And we had two hotels downtown back then. The Connor on one side of fourth and Main, where the library sits now. A glory place in it's day. And across the street was the Keystone, not quite as fancy, but a nice hotel. The Connor had a ballroom, a sweeping staircase. I grew up wanting to stay there at least one night but never was able to do that.
Downtown Main street is still here in 2010. But there has not been a real downtown since North park came in. Boo North park. When my daughter was small and we both lived with my parents. I would take her on Fridays when I got paid and go downtown. I would always give her a half dollar, she called it a big nickel. We walked and hit Woolworth's first. She was about three and loved the baloons on a stick. They always had several colors to choose from. We picked that up first. Then we strolled downtown. We rode elevators, we looked at the toys. We ate at Newberry's dime store or Woolworth's. We walked back home. Her little hand held tight in mine. The big Nickel clutched tightly in that hand because the beloved balloon on a stick was clutched in the other.
I wish I could have one more Friday afternoon with her downtown. The way it was back then. Magical.
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