Looking Back to the '50s & '60s-The Books We Read

For those of you who went to Carpenter, you’ll probably recall some of those classic books we used to read. In class, the students would gather in a circle on those tiny pine chairs, our arms waving eagerly so we could have our chance to read.

Our fearless teachers would usher us into the worlds of mystery, fantasy and humor.  We’d take turns reading passages from these books, and everyone would share in the recitation.

As we got older, we’d visit the library near the kindergarten classes by the Carpenter Bridge. I remember finding some of my classics there. All the books had that musty pulp smell as you rifled through the pages, looking for adventure.

What did you read as a child?  Here are some of my favorites:

“B Is for Betsy,” by Carolyn Haywood was a real gem.  It was laid out in simple chapters that were easy to digest for a grammar school kid.  Betsy was an imp of a child, with long auburn hair tied into pigtails.  No doubt, she personified the children of the day, prankish, curious, but rarely destructive.

Or how about  “The Little Engine That Could,” with it’s choo-choo cover, and optimistic mantra, “ I Think I Can, I Think I Can…” as it hauled a stranded train full of toys and good food over the mountain.

As I got a little older, I remember the classic “Cheaper by the Dozen,” by Frank B. Gilbreth, about a family trying to meander the challenges and antics of having twelve children in the house.  Their foibles were not unlike what we experienced in our home on Pacoima Court, with six kids and two sets of twins. Remember that whale of a car they used to drive, called “Pierce Arrow?”

And who didn’t enjoy the Nancy Drew mysteries by Carolyn Keene. Remember “The Secret of the Old Clock,” or “The Secret of Shadow Ranch?”  Wasn’t there a public library near Moorpark and Whitsett that housed all these gems?

Of course, no childhood would be complete without “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, “ about an imaginative and mischievous boy who lives with his Aunt Polly and his half-brother, in St. Petersburg, Missouri.

Tom is made to whitewash the fence as punishment for one of his pranks, but soon, he cleverly persuades his friends to trade him small treasures for the privilege of doing his work. What a marketing guru!

Back then, books were books. They were written, read and digested, with no need to edit, delete or re-write the language upon which these volumes were created. The raw spillage of life was there on the printed page for all of us to enjoy.

I know there’s much controversy about gerrymandering these classics, but as a writer, I would be incensed to have that happen. 

How about you?