It’s hard to believe at one time we could only get three TV stations in Dubach. I don’t remember the brand of TV we had. I’m sure it was a Sylvania, Motorola, or Zenith. That’s all Daddy ever bought. It was an important big black box that sat on a swivel stand and brought us the moon landing and the Kennedy funeral.
I was in the 2nd grade when I heard the news about President Kennedy. We were all running in from recess on our way to Miss Tutta Colvin’s classroom. Somebody stopped me and ask if I’d heard about the President. I didn’t even know at the time what a President was and even less about “assassination.” All I knew was that it was making our teachers cry.
Later on that week, the big black wonder box burned more images into the mind of our nation and to that of a seven year old. That was when they aired the Kennedy funeral.
As a family, we watched their family and all the gray sad images that went by – the riderless horse with the boots in the stirrups turned backwards – the caisson and casket being pulled by a team of horses, and little John John’s salute to his Daddy. It was my first funeral.
That TV brought us sadness, but it also brought us a lot of laughter too. Before I started to school, my TV mornings were filled with Captain Kangaroo, Jack LeLanne, the fitness guy, and Mildred Swift, the cooking lady from KNOE in Monroe.
Later on in the day it was Highway Patrol with Broderick Crawford, and I Love Lucy, and then came the soaps – Love of Life and The Guiding Light. That was when I happily relinquished the TV to Mama. In the afternoon, I regained control to watch The Three Stooges, Tarzan, and Superman.
At night we had shows like the Honeymooners, The Fugitive, Sea Hunt, Dobie Gillis, and Route 66. You knew when Red Skelton was on by Daddy’s howling laughter. And every boy I know had TV crush on Laura Petrie.
Each of the 3 stations was “easily” accessible by turning the antenna outside. Like some kind of trapeze act, my brother Ben would hold my brother Jimmy’s legs while he leaned out the window so he could turn the pole that held the antenna.
Too young and short for either task, my job was to watch the TV until the picture came into focus. We were never sure why on cloudy days and late at night we got better reception, but we did.
We didn’t have to decide what time to turn the TV off at night. In Dubach on weekdays most of the stations signed off at 10:30 p.m. after the evening news and weather. TV helped reinforce the Old South notion that anybody up after bed time was probably “up to no good.”
The exception was the weekends. That’s when we settled in for Saturday Night at the Movies and popcorn. Everybody in the family had “their” bowl and it was usually sized according to age and rank. Daddy had the biggest bowl. I had the smallest one and it always seemed to have more salt and kernels in the bottom than popcorn.
Boy how times have changed. Now I have an HDTV, cable, and a DVR. I don’t know how many channels I can get now – but, for old time’s sake, I’m going to pop me an oversized bowl of kernel-less popcorn and sit here in my recline and do my best to count them all.
Randy lives in Minden. He can be reached at planorand@yahoo.com.