Town of my youth

Edwardsville, Illinois
Main Street

Great photo borrowed from a Facebook post,
 The town of my first 20 years.
A few years before I was born...
Meg

Mom Art

Main Street, Downtown Edwardsville 1967
Note the Blue note lounge...and tree in front of the old jail.

Vanzo's Menu



Posting a couple Edwardsville Pics Mom painted in 1967
Vanzo's, Mine Run University a local tavern in town. MRU.

 

Art by Mom

Mom painted this one of Downtown Edwardsville of 1967

Bellisimo...

Blues part Deux

This image 1967 downtown Edwardsville where I grew up.

My Mom painted this and what memories it can recall.

Wish I had been old enough to go to the Blue Note Lounge.

Bet you can pick that out.

Of course true natives would recognize

the Pool hall, Gerhardt's,

Jail Tree and One hour Martinizing.

This downtown is 20 or so miles from St. Louis, home of The Blues.

St. Louis was farther away then if you know what I mean.

It was about 2 blocks from our house.

A little less when you cut cross lots.

Mrs. K

Mrs. Kuethe
Would have been 107 tomorrow, October 13th. 2 days after Nancy's only she had all the Friday the 13ths...
She lived next door to the house I grew up in on High Street. I remember her eager smile, whiskered chin,
dimpled girlish laugh sometimes. I would stand on the porch, telltale boards creaking as I approached.
But she would have already known I was headed down the hill, the curtain fluttering ever so subtely and her running to greet me, "Mareeee", she would say, like an exaggerated Marie. Then she would repeat my name
over and over. We all love hearing our name said outloud, that was not quite my name but close enough
to relish in that extreme adoration Adoration I lost when I lost my last grandparent so young I don't remember any of my natural grandparents. Mrs. Kuethe was there waiting for me to toddle down the hill
away from the hustle of a 7 child family. She and Herman spent many a night fanning on the porch with me sitting at their feet listening to them breathe and rock and make brief comments and then nodding off occasionally. Herman lit his pipe and Mrs. Kuethe would mouth words as she fell in and out of twilight.
She would have loved seeing the leaves change, and being by my side today.
I feel the same way, Happy Birthday Mrs, Kuethe.
I don't think I ever knew her real first name...emily? emmy? amelia?

Pool Hall

I have written about my Dad once before in this blog.
Well actually I write about him more, but indirectly.
I am half him, after all.
We talked tonight and I heard again how longevity can really go too far and dodging death can become a monotonous colorless gray day.
So I tried to cheer him up and told him my Pool Hall story.
I told one of the girls at lunch, about the old Pool Hall on Main Street in Edwardsville.
It was a doorway, narrow looking, sandwiched between buildings-the Jail? and another storefront, I don't remember the exact sequence of stores.
Every day (sometimes many times) in the summer and other days, I surfed Main Street.
The Pool Hall was on the left going to the end of the street, on the way to Woolworth's which was good to cool off in the air conditioning. My step always hurried, my senses alert, as I peered through the sometimes open always mysterious, dark and smoky entrance to the Pool Hall, one place off limits to me.
You never wanted to lurk there long, move fast I would think, keep moving lest someone might emerge from that dark hole of smoke.

I always tried to please Dad on his birthday. In those days he smoked white tip cigars, to try to wean off cigarettes.
It was logical to an 8 or so year old to buy Dad the cigars but how to obtain?
I went to my trusty Mr. Kuethe to help me out. In his calm demeanor and few words, we walked up to Main St. to the Pool Hall.
My heart raced.
I breathed a little deeper.
I looked around to see if anyone noticed, did anyone care,
would I come out....alive?
Mr. Kuethe's hand was always so sure, steady, wrinkled from sun and hard work.
I would be OK.
We walked into the smoky room and I peered, squinted at the line of men, mostly or all black, I couldn't exactly tell it was so dark and smoky. My eyes wide open but seeing less after being in the bright sunshine.
We walked over to the small case and Mr. Kuethe facilitated the deal.
I walked a little faster going out, having met one major objective, to say I had crossed the threshhold of a most mysterious place.
Dad got the cigars, maybe a little puzzled at how I got them, maybe not.
Mr. Kuethe caught H*ll from Mrs. Kuethe and had to promise to never take that little girl into the Pool Hall again.
I looked up at Mr. Kuethe and thought I saw a wink.
Tonight I told Dad and miles away, I hope a little twinkle came to him tonight. mary