Resourcefulness

When we moved to the suburbs, I was 6 and I met a boy who lived a few houses away from me.  He was a year younger and we became best friends.  His name was Wes.  Over the next few years, we would go fishing almost every day in the summertime and, on Saturdays, we would go to the movies.  We would each get a quarter from our mothers – fifteen cents to get into the movies and ten cents for popcorn and a drink.  There was a serial series with a cliff hanger at the end to keep us kids coming back every Saturday.  This was followed by 3 or 4 cartoons and then the movie.

We had to walk about a mile to the theater.  We took a paper grocery bag and two straws with us.  On the way, we passed a small supermarket with empty cases of soda bottles stacked up on the sidewalk, waiting for a soda delivery.  We would each take 5 empty bottles - all from different cases – and put them in the grocery bag.  There was an A&P store near the theater.  We would cash in the bottles at 2 cents each – so we both had an extra 10 cents. 

Next we would go to a gas station near the movie.  They had a soda machine out front of the office.  The machine was about the size of a chest freezer.  Opening the lid, the bottles were in rows in between metal strips held there by the neck of the bottle.  To buy a soda you had to slide the bottle to the front into a clamp, insert a nickel and the clamp would open and release the soda. Wes and I always carried a pocket knife for fishing.  It had many attachments – one was a bottle opener.  We would open one bottle and, using the straws, each drink half of the bottle.  Then we would go to the movies, have popcorn and come out of the show with 15 cents each in our pocket.  

About 6 months later, Wes told me that his Aunt had become the manager of the movie theater.  We now got in for free.  We no longer had to turn in bottles to earn 10 cents.  Now when we went to the movies, if we didn’t buy popcorn or a drink, we each came out with the 25 cents we started with.  We never did tell our Moms about the change in our “expenses.” 

This “resourcefulness” (nice word for what it was) followed me to college.  I would go to all the dorms and tell the students I would take all their empty bottles once a week and pay them 1 cent a bottle.  Most students were from out of state and didn't know that in West Virginia they paid 3 cents for a returned bottle so I made 2 cents on each return.  The dorms were full so they moved the older freshmen into army barracks that were used during WWII for officer training.  It was great for those of us who were moved into one of the huts.  Each one had 3 rooms -- a bedroom, living room and kitchen.  After our first 3 day weekend at home, it seemed we all came back with shotguns.  A bunch of us would drive through the country dirt roads and shoot quail, then pick a bag full of corn.  There were no pots in the kitchen, so a couple of the guys bought 2 electric turkey fryers.  We filled one with water for the corn, the other one with peanut oil.  We cleaned and breaded the birds and cooked 4-5 at a time.  Half way through all the lights went out – we had blown the main electric breakers and it took 2 hours for it to be fixed.  In the meantime, we ate the birds that were cooked and tossed the rest.  We found out that our great corn on the cob was inedible – it was cattle corn and much too tough to eat – so much for our home cooking.

When we returned to school after the Christmas holidays full of our Mom’s home cooking, the first meal they served in the mess hall was 2 pieces of fried sliced bologna, potatoes and something they called “greens” (which looked like they had been cooking since we left).  Have you ever seen what happens to a slice of bologna when it’s fried??  It bubbles up so it looked like 2 boobs on the plate.  We all left and went into town for a hamburger.  For breakfast, we would buy a box of cereal and a box of powdered milk.  We would mix them together in a bowl and add water.  Not a gourmet breakfast but definitely better than whatever the mess hall was serving.  

The only thing I liked about West Virginia was a store that sold “spud-nuts” – doughnuts made from potatoes.  They weren’t very nutritious, but they were filling.  

 It rained almost every day in the fall and the clay soil became slippery, especially where the land crabs pushed up water and mud from their underground dens.  Running track was almost impossible because you would step on one of the mounds and slip and slide and fall down.  One year was all I could take of that state and that college.