|
|
Dorothy Copus Brush Saturday night shopping
Long before malls made their appearance on
the shopping scene, Saturday night was the only time stores stayed
open in many towns across America. My family lived in the country, about 20 miles
from a mid-size city and, at sundown on Saturday, that town took
on a near-carnival atmosphere. The farmers and their families
pitched in to get all the chores done early so they could make
the weekly trek to town. By 7 o'clock, the population had exploded
and the town was bulging with humans and automobiles. It was Dad's responsibility to find a parking
spot. When you multiplied one Dad times hundreds of other drivers
in search of a spot just 20 feet long, the task took on the aspect
of a treasure hunt. For my Dad, the hunt was even more difficult
because, while Mother shopped, his favorite pastime was "watching
the people." This meant the parking space had to be right
in the heart of the shopping district next to the sidewalk. Around and around the square he drove. It
took the patience of Job and nerves of steel to undergo this
punishment every Saturday night. Streets were congested by hundreds
of cars seeking the same thing - a parking space. Circling the
square was made even more difficult because if one driver saw
a family getting into their car he stopped, hoping they were
about to give up their coveted parking space. One night my Dad stopped just ahead of a car
about to pull out, and another seeker stopped just behind the
parking space. As soon as the spot was vacated, Dad started to
back in and the villain in the other car edged forward into the
space. The days of the gold rush had many such incidents, but
on this night in the 1930s, two men saw gold as one small bit
of asphalt, and each was determined to stake his claim. My dad was a very gentle man and slow to anger,
but this night he was very angry. Perhaps righteous indignation
is a better description, but neither Dad nor the other man would
give an inch. A crowd began to gather as the two main characters
faced each other chin to chin. By this time, my mother was near
hysteria. It always mattered very much to her what people thought,
and this was highly scandalous behavior on my dad's part. Fortunately, a policeman arrived on the scene
before the fists came into action. Acting as a mediator, the
man in blue awarded the parking space to Dad. This was a highly
unusual occurrence, even for a Saturday night. Dad enjoyed "people
watching," but not being watched by people. Usually my presence was not necessary on Mother's
shopping tours, and I was happy to stay in the car with Dad.
For a youngster watching people could be boring but later in
life I often silently thanked Dad for teaching me patience and
instilling in me an interest in human behavior. Mother shopped until the last store closed, and then if the movie was showing a Tarzan or Shirley Temple film, we would join the long lines to catch the last show. I don't know if there are any Saturday night towns left but I'll always remember those "people watching" nights with Dad. |