Welcome to my (1930s) world. Here I go, reminiscing again. "Neighborhood" today, in too many instances, means a group of houses, inhabited by people we hardly know or don't know at all. They and we come and go, busy with work, after school events, club meetings, whatever takes us away from our "neighborhoods." If we're lucky, we have a neighbor with whom we have some rapport. Tract houses, a two story here, a single story there, but cut from the same mold, interspersed along the street, show little imagination or - today's big word - diversity. I began to think of my childhood neighborhood. Some descriptions follow.
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Craftsman-style homes, vintage 1919, along with older victorian looking ones and a few later, scaled-down models, faced wide streets. A couple of tidy "courts" and duplexes added some visual change.
Long, narrow driveways, two lanes of concrete separated by grass medians led to single car garages to the rear and side of some of the houses. We never heard of double garages and didn't know anyone who owned two cars. Many people had no car at all.
The lots were about 60 feet wide by 150 feet deep. Backyards boasted fruit trees, gardens, lawns, tool sheds and trash incinerators. Ah, yes! We burned trash in cement incinerators. A metal door dropped down, flammable trash was stuffed inside and lit with a match. The door closed and latched, soon gray smoke rose from the incinerator chimney. No one thought about pollution in those ancient days. As I recall, cans and glass were about the only thing collected by the trash company.
The backyards had plenty of room for swing sets, playhouses and a place to run through sprinklers in the summertime. Low,wooden fences enclosed most yards, allowing for housewifely chit-chat while hanging the wash or watering the garden.
Out front, two grassy squares, separated by a square of cement, hugged the curbs in front of each house. Sidewalks separated them from broad lawns divided by walkways leading to the houses. Neatly trimmed hedges usually lined the front of the house and some yards included a tree or two, usually magnolias. Tall palm trees lined some streets. This was Los Angeles after all.
Common to most houses were wide, covered porches. Four ionic columns supported the porch roof overhang at our house. Porch swings and rocking chairs up and down the block invited residents to cool off and chat on warm, summer evenings.
We had a side porch with steps and an entrance from the driveway opening into a "breakfast nook." A wall of windows looked out onto the driveway and provided plenty of light. The outside door had an insert of window glass as well. I guess the breakfast nook could have been called a sunroom. It had a door to the dining room and one to the kitchen. A big black phone hung on the wall next to the coat closet.
The breakfast nook served as a very small family room Of course, we never heard of "family" rooms. Central heating and air conditioning were unknown. In our breakfast nook Gramma sewed, her Singer sewing machine against the window wall. I did my homework there and Grampa listened to the radio, comfortably ensconced in his big Morris Chair. A portable gas heater kept the room warm in the winter with doors closed. In the summer the open, screened windows let in cool breezes. Canaries were popular pets. Petey, our warbler, hopped about in his cage, hung from a hook in the ceiling by the window.
The living and dining rooms were used only for company and on holidays. The one bathroom had an electric wall heater. Bedrooms had none. Gramma was always up early; and in the winter, while she prepared breakfast, she lit the stove's oven (with a match) and opened the door. I dressed in front of the oven's welcoming heat. It was also where I dried my hair after washing.
Around 1940, I think, Gramma had a floor furnace installed between the living and dining rooms. Our parlor grand piano sat in the large dining room against one wall. Since I needed to practice daily, having started lessons when I was six, Gramma decided to spend the money to heat the rooms for my sake. It was fun for me and the neighbor girls to stand over the furnace grate and let the air blow up our skirts. Shades of Marilyn Monroe.
I digress! But I did need to present a picture of my own home. Most others were fairly similar in the goings on within their walls.
Neatly planned neighborhoods were bordered on four sides by streets and avenues. Children walked to elementary schools and the local high school, nestled within the residential areas, as were several churches.
Everything we needed was in that close-knit neighborhood. I think tomorrow I'll expand the neighborhood and introduce some of its people.
10/6/11
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