A place from your past or childhood, one that you’re fond of, is destroyed. Write it a memorial.
~I have been asked by some of my blog pals to add a disclaimer. This isn’t my typical cheeky, funny-ha ha post. This is a sad one. Okay, you’ve been warned. If you don’t want to read, that’s okay. Back to funnier stuff tomorrow. ~
I have many fond memories of going to my father’s workplace as a child, and as a young adult. Dad ran an auto parts store in the small town where I still live.
I remember going there as a kid and talking to the mechanics in the shop, getting a quarter to put in the machine for peanuts, a gumball or M&M’s. I remember dreadful home made gifts and art projects that my brothers and sister and I made adorned Dad’s desk and office wall. I also remember the chrome naked lady hood ornament ashtray….that he would try to remember to stash in a drawer if he knew I was coming.
The place had a charm of its own. Customers, mechanics, grease monkeys and body men from the area would congregate at Dad’s counter like it was a soda fountain some days, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes.
A young man who worked across the street came in to my Dad’s store one day carrying a bottle of Coke with about a dozen straws sticking out of it. “Thought I’d bring you guys a Coke.” He said, and all the guys roared with laughter. Everybody’s a comedian.
There was a two wheel cart at Dad’s store, and either he or one of the guys would give us rides around the store or the stockroom when we were small. When my oldest son was born, I took him to the store so Dad could show off his new grandson to all of his buddies. As he held my tiny son in his arm, he called him “Tiger” and said that when he got big enough, he would give him rides on the cart around the store and the shop. Just writing that brings tears to my eyes, as my beloved Dad died suddenly just three weeks after that precious moment. He was just 52 years old.
The rides on the two wheel cart never happened.
Many years later, when that boy of mine was the oldest of three and just entering his teens, he came home in a frenzy one night with a group of friends to alert us to a large fire in the downtown area, which is just a few blocks from our house.
I went onto the front porch and not only saw a pillar of smoke, but a pillar of fire. Over the housetops and the overpass. This was a huge conflagration. The largest fire I had ever seen. My son told me it was my father’s parts store that was a literal towering inferno. Oil, grease, chemicals, rubber and God knows what else had created an immense fire that also engulfed and destroyed the lumberyard located next door.
As I wandered downtown to see the place that held so many fond memories turn to ash and disintegrate, I truly for the first time was thankful that my father hadn’t lived to see this happen. It surely would have killed him.
I have constant reminders of this place, working in a full service dealership, complete with a parts room. It looks similar, smells the same, and we even have a two wheel cart that’s just the right size for grandchildren.
I still live in the same house, just two blocks from Dad’s store and the scene of the huge fire. When I drive by now, I try not to think of the fire. I remember the place and the guys: but mostly Dad and that two wheel cart.
~This does happen to be a real slice of my life, in case you were wondering~
Some of today’s other Daily Prompt Posts:
Daily Prompt: Ode to a Playground | The Blogging Path
Candlepin | One for the Big Guy.. sometimes.
Dear School « Sue’ s considered trifles
A memorial of my beautiful childhood. « ayimas
Ode to Golden Bell | Drama Queen Under the Sun
Memorial to a Mall | Sorta Ginger: Ramblings of a Quasi-Redhead
Daily Prompt: Ode to a Playground | Rolbos ©
Monday Morning – Humour Me « theseeker
Our Summer Home In the 1950′s | Daily Promptness
Daily Prompt: Ode to a Playground | Pony Rides at the Zoo | Loading…
Rest Well Slide Mountain « Q the Adult
Daily Post: Ode to a Playground | tel-uh-vizh-uh-ner-ee
Daily Prompt: Ode to a Playground | Fasting, Food and other musings by determined34
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I am glad your dad was not around to see it too — I talked about a piece of my history that has gone missing too — we were both inspired by this prompt–you did a beautiful, if heartwrenching post
Thank you so much! I really hope I get time to read everyone else’s today.
🙂
Darling wife,
I was only there once many years ago, but your memories bring it all back vividly. I’m sure you are right that it would have broken his heart to see the store burn. He is in a better place now. Love you baby.
*Sigh*~ You are just too sweet. Thank you.
Wow….that made me a little misty reading that. Lovely.
Thank you. It made me a little more than misty writing.
😉
What a sad story, Cheeky. You’re supposed to make us all laugh…
Sorry, go read my recipe for cereal again. I do have a few things that just aren’t funny. Usually, only the Daily Prompt will get them out of me.
I know, I was just giving you a hard time. Recipe for cereal?
Yeah, Saturday’s post. It’s a really good one. No sad. Only stupid
Woohoo!! I shall go read it now!! Sorry I missed it. I don’t have as much free time on the weekends as I do while I’m working. What an odd sentence that was.
I get it. Me too. I’m stuck in a corner with a computer all day at work. When I’m home, there’s always something to do.
Yup.
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Ode to a Playground « Jumbalya of thoughts and musings
thanks for the pingback
I didn’t know you were going to make me sad… how about a warning label???
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I have a lot of happy memories of the place, though. Maybe I should put a disclaimer at the top?
No… people need to be kicked in the teeth with emotions and feelings and stuff now and then.
Okay then. Did you see that my husband even commented? He very rarely does that. I think I kicked him in the teeth with this one too. He knew about the fire, but didn’t know about two wheel cart story, since all this happened with my first marriage.
Now that is interesting.
My dearest Julie, I’m so, so sorry. THank you for sharing this important piece of yourself. LOve, Suzy
Thank you for reading, Suzy. Some of my readers are surprised when they find something like this here, but even dorks have a few sad moments to share, right?
I ran so far and so fast from the places of my childhood that I’m afraid when I’m ready to go back, when I’m ready to take my children to see and experience the things I got to in my youth that they won’t be there any more. I don’t have a “shop” story – but I have others very similar. Thank you for sharing this bit about yourself with all of us; it was very touching. (But, I agree with pouringmyartout and twindaddy – you are supposed to make us laugh, and a warning would have been nice.)
I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be a downer. I guess the title wasn’t enough. I did add a disclaimer at the top, and I’ll be sure to do that when my posts aren’t funny.
😉 You don’t actually need to add the discalimer on my behalf, I was just jumping on the bandwagon for that comment.
Well, I did. Just in case. I know people come here wanting to laugh and stuff, and it just doesn’t happen every day.
99.99% of the days is good enough for me. 😀
🙂
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Ode to a Playground | Fasting, Food and other musings by determined34
Sorry that you have the pain in the story, but I think its beautiful that you wanted to share it with us. The only slightly similar experience I’ve had is that the first place I worked is now gone, replaced with another restaurant. There are many places in my city, too, that keep closing and the empty storefronts can stay for years sometimes. And this was before the recession – the rents here in LA are just too darn high and we keep losing places that have been there for years. When my local Barnes & Noble closed down (where I spent nearly twenty years happily in the aisles, particularly when I was upset about something), I really did shed a tear.
What a great post! Thanks for sharing your story.
Thanks for reading. It’s always fun to share a different side of myself. 🙂
Very touching post, enjoyed even though it was sad
Cheeky,
You’re a great writer and that was a powerful story.
Oh, the layers of you…
Red
Hi there! I was thinking about you this morning. About how I haven’t seen you on the blogosphere or Twitter for a few days, and was hoping you were just super busy with your fabulous jet setting life. So glad you dropped by. Nice family photo with the red noses for Le Clown’s Birthday party by the way.
And yes, I have lots of layers, like an onion or an ogre. Take your pick.
😉
I wish it was a jet setting life! Work has been getting at me and we’re preparing to move this spring (and move mom in with us). I’ve been writing a lot but somehow can’t push the publish button…On the plus side, Granddaughter #3 is due any day!
Really great story Cheeky, and I’d go with onion.
Red
Yay! I wish I could report a grandchild on the way, but sigh….not yet. We were planning to move as well, but since we can’t seem to sell our house, it looks like it’s not going to happen. At least not yet. I hope things calm down for you soon, friend. Thanks for the update, and I look forward to reading more from you soon, so hit that damn publish button already!!!!
That was an incredibly sweet, but traumatic, post. The emotion is evident and, from a reader’s standpoint, at least, appreciated. 🙂
Why thank you so much. What a nice compliment. I appreciate that a lot. 🙂
What a beautiful memory to have! And you wrote it so beautifully! I’m sorry you lost your dad so early – before you could make more beautiful memories.