And then I wrote...

by Dick Schilling, "Editor Emeritus"

... that there was a photo story in a recent edition of the Cedar Rapids Gazette about the Palace Theatre in the downtown section of that city.

What caught my eye and jogged my memory, and perhaps has caused me to readjust my thinking, was the location in the photo of the large building next door, Yager’s men’s and boy’s clothing store.

I have always thought of my family as being middle class while I was growing up. I may have over-estimated. Perhaps we were lower middle class.

The fact that one day sometime just after WWII, my Dad bought suits for himself and me at that store jarred my feelings. Why would my Dad, who often had few bucks to spend and who was careful with where he spent those he did have, have driven to Cedar Rapids to make those purchases? We had a couple pretty nice men’s clothing stores in Waukon at that time.

Well, as I recall, Yager’s was a cut-rate store, and my Dad must have figured he could pay for the trip and still save money over buying locally. I remember we laughed about the guy who waited on us, we assumed he was Jewish, who, when I tried on a suit, said “iss sheen gabardine, iss good fit.”

I am guessing the photo in the paper was taken about that time, judging by the age of the automobiles, and the sign in a window offering war bonds and stamps. No new automobiles were sold during the war, and the models shown seem to be of the late 1930s.

That got me to thinking that things must have been pretty tight financially for us.

For example, I remember once Dad traded down for an older car to get the money to pay some bills.

And it occurred to me that I never was allowed to have a new baseball glove, and had to play with a used model of lighter colored leather which drew comments from other kids. And I never had a new bicycle, and instead had to ride a used model the style of which was totally different from what others were riding, and drew comments as well.

And although I was on the varsity basketball team, my Dad would not spring for the money to buy either a letter sweater or letter jacket, items which most of the other guys wore.

Even my high laced hunting boots and hunting coat were bought used.

I’m guessing my parents made some sacrifices as well, because we never went hungry.

Not quite middle class.