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Walking The Plank
In our new home it was possible to walk the plank and end up in the toilet. What could possibly be more fun?
Three events occurred on December 20th, 1960. I performed in our school’s Christmas concert, we celebrated David’s ninth birthday, and we spent the first night together in our new house.
Our second Christmas.
L-R Mom, Great-Aunt Mary, me, Grandma, Grandpa
After the concert we returned home, used a stack of sheetrock as a table, and ate David’s birthday cake, fresh from Freihofer’s. Candles and flashlights provided ambiance; no lights yet. The outlets were all set for ignition and Dad connected the wires the following day.
Dad, Uncle Edward, and Wolfy outside our basement home.
Mom insisted on a working toilet (as opposed to squatting behind a barren bush or a snow bank) and Dad gave her one, set up high on cement blocks. The concrete floor in the bathroom wasn’t poured, so we walked on an elevated gang plank over the dirt floor to reach our high-rise toilet. Mom was short, so, like us kids, while sitting on the toilet her feet dangled above the floor.
This is exactly what our plank looked like, complete with sag.
http://www.framework.latimes.com
The gangplank boards were supported by cement blocks under each end and sagged from our weight. David and I created a bouncy walk by hopping to and from the toilet. We wanted to keep our gangplank; no one else had one. And it was more fun to use than the antique chamber pot under our bed at Great-Aunt Mary’s.
We created contests to see who could walk the plank best without falling off; eyes shut, backwards, hopping on one foot, and a combination of all three.
It was a tie vote for keeping our unique toilet access, two to two. Dad and Mom pulled a power play; the bathroom floor was poured a week later.
Dad could have been a trend setter with his 1960 version of an open concept that wouldn’t become popular until the 1980s. Mom had a problem with Dad’s innovative floor plan. Dad’s fatal flaw was making our bathroom the focal point of his open concept. Our bathroom walls consisted of open studs and an open view.
Nitpicky Mom preferred a bit of privacy. Ever obliging, Dad nailed up one surrounding layer of sheetrock, four feet high. We didn’t have to ask if anyone was using the facilities. Our semi-open concept let the back of their head peek up over the sheetrock. Extremely convenient, until Dad completed the sheetrocking and turned it into a normal hum-drum bathroom.
No gangplank, no open concept.
Lesson Learned: ‘Making lemonade out of lemons’ is great advice. If you laugh at a sheetrock table, gangplank floor, and open concept bathroom, then tomorrow it can be added to your list of funny memories.
However, I still wish I’d been a Christmas fairy instead of a clunky box.
Now it’s your turn: What was unusual about your home?
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1950 Memories of Suburban Adventures 