This is Marilyn and Danny today. I took this photo last Christmas at The Iron Barley. Not to be confused with the Iron Skillet Truck Stop out on I-70. Danny has been known to take his girlfriend there. Poor girl.
Marilyn sent me this photo yesterday. It's our parade from our school picnic, 5th grade, 1973.
That's me in the red skirt and blue, sleeveless blouse. Marilyn is to the right in the purple, flowered blouse, yellow scarf and brown knee-socks.
Sharon Rathert is behind Marilyn, with the fabu bun. Mary Ellen Cummings is in front of me with the red striped blouse. She moved that summer to Ohio. She's walking with Elaine Dunajcik and Cindy Lanasa. Our teacher, Mrs. Beiter is ahead of them with her stunning tan purse. I think she's grading papers or something. She's just not feeling the parade love.
Anthony Spiller is ahead of her in his regulation STL Cardinals garb. Marilyn says that's Michael Boles in the Davy Crockett hat and Gussy Botanis and Byron Wilmington behind Mrs. Beiter. Wilmington? Wirthington? Washington?
She got the photo from a slide her parents had. She said on the slide, you can see the back of Chani's head and he's walking with Danny. Those two were inseparable. You'll remember Chani later died from his leukemia.
We usually had a theme to the parade, but we can't tell what it was. I'm pretty sure those clothes aren't mine. Older sisters can be cruel, but they offered a plethora of exotic clothes to pilfer. I'm not sure why I'm showing a little leg either. Whatever the reason, I'm sure it was scandalous. It was probably one of those unbearably hot and humid June St. Louis mornings. Ugh.
Marilyn's glamorous ensemble is the stuff of legends. The Big Urban Myth is that it suffered a horrible demise. It was meant to be an heirloom outfit, to be passed from mother to daughter for generations. Alas, the Tilt-a-Whirl, the heat, some bad cotton candy, and rumors of chewing tobacco, spelled disaster for the fabu frock. Mrs. Chenot, in her shame and despair, decided to throw it out rather than smelling that puke smell that lingers even after repeated warshings. Warshings, you heard me correct.
That's how we roll in South St. Louis.
8 comments:
Thank goodness you have a hobby - nice dissertation - aren't you on vacation. Are you sure that's Cindy Lanasa? I think Donna Banji - I think Terry Duncan is there too.
Ken Black is in the horn rimmed glasses
What? Are you saying I have too much time on my hands?
I'd bet my pilfered toe-thong leather sandals that it's Cindy Lanasa. She and Elaine were thick as thieves.
Ah, good ol' Missouri red clay brick street pavement. You just don't see it anymore. You know the brick buildings up in Cripple Creek are made out of Missouri red clay bricks.
You have a great "little did she know that later that day she'd puke on her favorite outfit" smile on your face. And the ponytails! Gotta love the high-flying ponytails!
That's the real truth - a surpressed memory - the truth is my ponytails were too tight causing me to have an odd smile on my face which caused my stomach to be abnormally tight thus causing the food to edge on up to the throat while I was on the Scrambler not the Hustler which was right by the boys playground next to the ferris wheel.
And I had to keep my arms up all day they were sooo tight and I couldn't stopped myself when I tripped on the red brick from Missouri
I've never been more turned on than I am right now.
Why? Is Petula Clark somewhere in the crowd?
That leg! Why is she showing me that leg?!
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