The Clinton Year |
Go to any airbase today and have a look at the cars parked in the barrack's parling lot. They may be only Privates and Corporals but you will see a vast number of cars parked there and, not only 'wrecks' either, oh no.... But in Clinton, in the fifties.... things were different. The barrack in which I lived housed more than 200 airmen (barracks were not co-ed in those days. The girls had their own quarters located at a good, safe distance from the men's and patrolled nightly by the Air Force Police. But I digress....)
There was not much of a parking lot either for that barrack, or any other for that matter, as very few owned cars. In fact, in our barrack, only one lucky fella owned a car and, what a car. It was a gift from his father and it was a beaut!' In fact, to our eyes, any car, even a wreck was a beaut but in this case, it was. As I recall, it was a four door Chevrolet and it was brand new.
Gas was cheap in those days but this is all relative as the wages were also cheap; somewhere around $84.00 per month, but we had a roof over our head, were clothed and fed. Needless to say, we all adopted that car and we were all very nice to that fella, although, would it not have been for the car, he probably would not have had too many friends as he was a sort of low-life, so to speak. But there was the car (that was what we called it 'The Car'). Every night, when the weather was nice, he would go out and wash and polish that car. On such occasions, I never saw so many guys eager to help. They, oftentimes including yours truly, would run over offering their help and to see some twenty guys labouring over that car was not a rare sight. Other than going to the movies on the Station Theatre, this was about the only action in town. After having spent some hour and half or so polishing and babying that car, he would invite three or four of the 'regulars' for a ride. We would head for town and of course, where else, would drop in for a coffee at the Café. I don't remember ever seeing him pay for his coffee. Ah... the power of that car!
He did have some qualities, chief among them frugality! But of course, that didn't sit too well with us as we would have preferred he had shared his goodies with us (I freely admit jalousy was rampant in his regard but what else could you expect?) Drive-in theatres were very big in those days and a fella with a car never had to go alone because girls on the Station wopuld line up for the privilege. Which means that our friend went to a lot of movies but he was so 'cheap' he used to hide the girl in the trunk so that he would pay for only one ticket. He would then drive the girl home after the movie and then tell her all about it .......
I am kidding of course as he would actually let her out of the trunk and let her watch the movie with him but cheap he was, nevertheless.
As there was not all that much to do on the Station we would often walk to town, a distance of about two miles. Of course, Clinton was no Time Square and there was not all that much to do there either but there was that little Café where the guys used to hang out at. Not only would the owner let us sit around for over an hour, sipping our coffee drop by drop (you had to get your full value out of the ten cents that coffee cost) but he also had the nicest waitress for miles around. The only problem was that she was his daughter and, understandably enough, he kept a very good eye on her and she enjoyed a very short leash. She also had two big, nay... huge brothers who enforced the house policy. The net result was that the poor girl probably was the loneliest girl in town. No one could remember seeing her with anyone but her brothers on her day off. So the guys dreamed as they sipped their coffee and that was about the fun available in Clinton.
The Incident...
There were however the odd memorable incident. I particularly remember a certain Saturday afternoon. I know for a fact it was Saturday and not Sunday for the simple reason that everything, and I mean, everything was shut tight on Sundays except the local bootlegger. We were all sitting as quietly as possible in the Café, solving all the world's problems, when we heard a tremendous crash. We all rushed out of the Café, including the waitress, to see what it was all about. You have to understand.... nothing ever happened in Clinton and a loud crash in the middle of a quiet afternoon was enough to generate an instant Town meeting and indeed, in a matter of minutes, the whole town it seemed was there.
It would appear that the local drunk had run a stop sign and had broadsided a car then traversing the intersection. The car driver was laying on the ground, thrown from his car, when we made it to the scene. The drunk was slumped over the wheel and was not moving. Someone called the ambulance and the Police, both of whom had to come from the nearest 'big' town of Goderich, some fifteen miles away. In the meantime, someone said he was a doctor and he must have been because he seemed to know what he was doing so we let him. As for the drunk, he was not hurt.... he was just drunk!
We must have stayed there on the scene for over an hour, milling about with the townfolks and offering our two-bits about what had happened. I don't think there was any actual witness to the accident but of course, everyone, including yours truly, had an opinion about what had happened and all this made for some very interesting socializing. One thing I remember distincly is that our waitress had had but a quick look and had returned to the Café as could be expected. When we did tore ourselves from the scene and returned to the Café for a postr mortem of the event, I also distincltly remember that she had served us a free refill..... you just don't forget little tidbits of goodness.
After a short while, we all walked back to the Station and made sure to keep posted on the development of the case. I cannot say that I remember what happened to our drunk but I suggest that probably this is because not much came out of it. In those days drunk drivers were everywhere and not much of a case was made of it all. You could go to jail if caught with a case of beer in your car in that county but that didn't stop people from drinking and driving drunk as a skunk and rarely could you drive a hundred miles without seeing a bad accident, mostly caused by drunk driving.
Back to 'The Car'
It was OK to walk as we were very young and in good shape but, if you could afford it, it was better to take a taxi, especially if it was raining. So we would pile up five in a car and, for fifty cents a fare, would ride to town in style. That gave an idea to our buddy, owner of 'The Car' so, for the modest sum of twenty-five cents a head, he would take us to town. He would drop us off at the Café and. most of the time, would go on his own for a joy ride or whatever. When he decided to return to the Station he would cruise around for a while and in no time flat, would pack his car with new fares and be on his way. Even at twenty-five cents a head, I am sure he must have made a mini fortune playing taxi and that apparently didn't sit too well with somebody, probably dying of jealousy, as he was reported as driving a taxi without a licence and he got in plenty of trouble over that. As a result, we got to ride less and less in 'The Car.'
GD ... General Duty or... slave labor
Build Golf course for Officers, working at the Officer Mess etc awaiting course
BEM Course how it went
You buy insurance, you get a free meal
Life in the Barrack
The Striptease
Flying the Swatiska on Parade ... a No-No
It's a Dry County
Tex, our Mascot
A Resort... Grandbend
Life on the Station
|