Swinging Swaying Children Playing Charleston Had It All # 57
By Mildred Reeves Burnett
If a tree had a good strong limb, it likely had a burlap bag swing hanging from it with a kid swinging, one pushing the swing, and two more waiting turn. Standing and pumping in a board swing as high as we could was thrilling, as was facing a friend with one pumping and then the other.
Swinging in an old rubber tire was simple fun.
The most unique bag swing story I’ve heard was about the swing that hung in the back yard of Colonel Paul B. Moore. A good jumping distance from the swing stood a large steel bank vault. The relic was from the “old branch bank of the Bank of Missouri,” which once stood on the premises where the Moore family home is located. (Jim Thurmond’s home — on the corner across from City Hall.) 1
During the early forties, great-grandson Jimmie Thurmond and his neighborhood friends, Freddie Taylor, Kenny Trickey, Jerry Brumley, Alfred Scholar, Bill Silverman, and likely others kept the swing swinging. They were grade school age boys.
They all climbed up on the bank vault with Jimmie pulling along the straw-filled swing, which had bricks in the bottom for momentum. He flung it out to swing several times, like a pendulum.
When the swing swung the distance to his liking, he dived for the rope and straddled the swing, swinging back and forth. Kenny, Freddie or another was next. With correct timing, he sprang for the moving rope to straddle Jimmie. The others on the platform did likewise, until the boys were swinging three or four straddled together.
The ancient bank vault was donated to the war effort during World War II for scrap steel and hauled away. Afterwards in the yard, there was built a 10 or 12 foot strong platform from which the boys dived and swung as they had before.
Now they were a little older, and more experienced, the young fellows let the swing swing longer—slowing—slowing …moving ever farther away from the platform. In turn the young boys, one being more gutsy than the other in how far he’d let the swing die before jumping—counted the swings, and—at the right moment—jumped!
Swinging and swaying, in time each swung through the air with the greatest of ease like “The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze”… 2
There would come a time or two when a boy hit the ground—thud! There were many bruises, but no broken bones.
The ultimate jump was by Jimmie Thurmond, who counted the back and forth swinging “1—2…7…11—12 leaped! Grabbing the rope, he straddled the swing and swung…
Those same young boys played “Wood Tag” inside the horse barn, walking barefoot and balancing themselves atop the stall enclosures throughout. When the boy who was “It” came too close… the other leaped onto a horse, which was safe base. If one stepped off wood, he was “It”, until he tagged another on wood. The inventive fellows thought up “Wood Tag” themselves. 3
Dennis Quertermous said, “Through late thirties and early forties on the corner of Cleveland and Johnson streets, we Quertermous brothers, Pete and I, played marbles in our front yard, which was as smooth as a pool table from playing on it so much. There was no grass.
“Parents of most of the kids who played with us worked at the Shoe Factory or the Stave Mill. They’d send their kids to our house, because they knew Mother would look after them. At one time or another there’d be brothers, Johnnie and Howard Chronister, playing, and their cousin Bill Chronister, who married my sister Lucy.
“Others who lived in the neighborhood and played were the Taylor boys, Gene, Donald, Cecil, and Truman; Leroy Price; Leon McDaniel; E. T. Sasseen; Richard Bradshaw; and Elbert Johnson.
“There’d be several marble games going at the same time. Usually four to six boys played a game. Pete and I would win everybody’s marbles. We had one big churn full and several gallon cans.
“We’d keep the extra pretty ones in a separate can. When our younger brothers, Glen and Leslie, came along they shot them away in sling shots.
“Sometimes the kids would get mad because they lost their marbles, and Mother would come out with a stick and break up the fight right quick. The next day we’d be back at it again.
“We wore out the right knees of our pants from squatting with that knee on the ground to shoot. Mother patched them over and over again. Our knuckles were chapped red and raw from rubbing them on the ground shooting those marbles.
“We played marbles every chance we’d get— at home, school, recess, during lunch break, even when it was freezing outside. Each player put so many marbles in the circle or triangle. The first to shoot would shoot marbles out of the ring, until he missed. They may not have shot any out. The next in line would shoot likewise. The game was similar to pool, but with marbles on the ground,” Dennis said.
Last summer Johnnie Chronister told me they liked playing at the Quertermous’, for Mrs. Quertermous came outside with warm cookies she’d baked for all the kids playing in the yard to eat, and they felt safe playing there.
Numerous kids collected marbles. Aggies and Cats-Eyes were popular. Several colors were swirled on Aggies. A Cats-Eye was tones of one color in swirls.
1 The bank was doing business pre-Civil War.
2 The song was published in 1867. Words by the British George Leybourne, music by Gaston Lyle. Info from Wikipedia Encyclopedia - see Internet.
3 Info—Jim Thurmond, Freddie Taylor, Jerry Brumley, Kenneth Trickey, telephone interviews Jan. 2007.
To Be Continued |