In the old days, Saturday was the big “business” day for Tyrone stores. That was the day when families living out in the country would pile everybody into the family car or buggy and head into town to shop and socialize. Saturdays were big! The sidewalks were jammed, every parking place was taken, and stores were filled with shoppers.
Back then, almost everything was focused very close to home. People living in Tyrone grew up in “neighborhoods” and didn’t often venture into another part of town. Within a few miles of where families lived were most of their relatives, their school, and their church. And this also applied to people who lived in the hills and valleys surrounding the “city.”
City folks could go downtown to shop any day of the week. It was different for people living out in the country. Dads were busy all day in the field and barn, moms were tied up with caring for kids, washing clothes, and tending to the chickens.
We’re not talking about what we know today as farms, which often consist of hundreds or perhaps thousands of acres. In those days, farm folks usually did not have a large number of acres — just enough to feed themselves and to produce a crop that could be turned into money for clothing, food, and a little bit extra for the good times.
And good times included Saturdays. There was a regular pattern that was followed by almost every farm family, year after year.
On Saturday, chores were taken care of early because it was the day to go to town. And upon arrival, the kids would be given money to spend. There would be a dime for something from the “five-and-ten,” six cents for an ice cream cone, and eleven cents for the movies.
The Saturday afternoon matinees were always the same. The double feature began with a “shoot-’em-up” cowboy movie in which the guy with the white, ten-gallon hat always won over the villain in the black hat. Then, the second feature was a detective story with a bare minimum of romance, but mostly lots of action and car chases. Between features was the serial movie that left you hanging in suspense, so you’d be sure to come back the next Saturday. And finally, movie previews and a newsreel filled out the program.
While the kids were safely spending their time at the Wilson or El Patio Theaters, or in earlier years at the Pastime Theater on 10th St. (nicknamed “The Bucket of Blood” by Ruth Anderson Kirk and her friends), the mothers did their weekly ritual of leisurely shopping every store along the Avenue and on 10th St.
Dads couldn’t stand the slow, casual way that women have of shopping, so they’d visit Fisher’s, or Fink Brothers, or J.L. Fink, or Miller Brothers hardware stores for supplies and get needed items at Burnham’s or Morrow’s.
Every couple of weeks, dads would take the kids to the barber shop and they’d all get haircuts. Usually a quarter or thirty-five cents apiece. Kids’ cuts were quick. Most of the cutting was with the clippers, which had no sharp edges to nick a kid who’d lurch or move. A few quick zips up the sides and back and the boys were finished. Every kid got the familiar “white sidewalls” clipper cuts popular today in the military. It lasted two weeks, which was just right.
Often, the husband/father was finished long before the wife/mother, so this was an ideal opportunity to chat with other farmers and city folks who were downtown.
There is a cute story about how one farmer used to fill the time on Saturday afternoons while waiting for Mom to finish shopping. Instead of walking up and down the street, he’d occasionally stop into one of the downtown taverns for a beer.
This particular family was very strict and religious, so he had to be careful to get a pack of chewing gum to use after his visit so his wife wouldn’t smell liquor on his breath. She had grown up in a family where that wasn’t acceptable.
As the story goes, one Saturday the man slipped into the tavern and was seated at one end of the bar, sipping a beer. He happened to glance down the bar and to his utter horror, at the other end he saw his father-in-law, also sipping a beer! Their eyes met, and instantly both looked away, never acknowledging each other. Quickly, the man paid for his beer and went out one door, and almost as rapidly his father-in-law left through another.
According to a member of the family, neither father-in-law nor son-in-law ever mentioned this incident to each other, or to anyone else, and only years later when the older man had died did the story come out.
These days, there is so much difference in the ways we live. Gone are the small family farms, unable to support a mother, father, and kids. The stores in downtown Tyrone no longer are filled with thousands of shoppers on a Saturday afternoon. But it doesn’t take much imagination to stand at the corner of 10th St. and Pennsylvania Ave. and visualize the days when the streets were jammed with cars and buggies, and every store was filled with shoppers.
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