A Saturday to Remember

Times are truly different.  It was a bitterly cold morning in the spring of 1959.  I was 12 years old and looking forward to my Saturday off from the strict, and sometimes intimidating, treatment of the nuns of St. Paul’s School.  I woke up excited to face a day doing what I wanted. Being somewhat of a loaner I donned my father’s WWII Coat ,grabbed a PB & J sandwich along with his Army canteen and set out for Blue Mountain.

Unless you are from Salem or an adventurer you may not know about the location of Blue Mountain. It was across one of the branches of Beaver Creek just off of Egypt road.  Today that would be below Wal-Mart.  I walked across town and down the very steep Painter Hill. There was a sand and gravel operation that was shut down on Saturdays. My mission was to try and ford a somewhat swollen creek without getting wet.

It was tricky but I was able to find a fallen tree and made my way across the creek. My next mission was to assail the steep climb up Blue Mountain.  This was both exciting and a little dangerous for a twelve year old.  I spent a good hour sitting against a tree munching on my lunch with a freshly dug ginger root to gnaw on for pleasure. It al least tasted like root beer to me.

Sadly I had to make my way back to town before my unknowing mother wondered what I was up to.  I came into the downtown section of Salem, sometime in the late afternoon, only to see a horde of people and a parade. The First National bank had these wonderful windows about six feet above the ground. One of the windows , facing Broadway but close to the corner of State St. ,had a big ledge and bars covering the window. I was able to jump up and secure a spot on the ledge to watch a parade led by some guy in a red Pontiac convertible, the school marching band, cheerleaders.and a lot of honking cars in tow.

The next Day I found out that what I saw was the 1959 Salem Basketball team was returning from the state tournament with a second place finish losing only to Cleveland East Tech.  The red car was new and a present from the town to coach Cabas. Just another boring Saturday in Salem Ohio. These were the kind of adventures I had as a child in Salem Ohio. The best part is that my parents knew. and still know nothing of the kinds of things I did. All of my adventures were never bad or against the law. Next time I will write about how I spent my summer inside of one of the tanks stored in the old armory (now the city garage).