Dancing At Mr. Ben's

Dancing At Mr. Ben's

8.5" x 11"

pencil

We loved to dance, back in the 1950s.

There were no dance halls or such, and no drinking, in Huntsville, Texas back in those days. But there were several places to dance. If a business had a place to dance, a juke box, a place to sit, and something to eat and drink, there would be college kids there-day or night.

The SUB (Student Union or Lowman Student Center-a fairly new building at the time) was one place that had a good dance floor, a jukebox, and a band for college dances, and a snack bar, and bookstore downstairs. This was on a hill by the science building. People cut classes to hang around the SUB and dance all day. And it was the place to go between classes. Some people even sat there to study while the jukebox was going.

Remember, we barely had tv and could only get one radio station because of the hills. Tv was a new thing, and we only had tvs in the visitors areas of the dorms.

Another place to dance was at Mr. Ben's. This was a trolly car that an older man had set up on a hill by a book store, just across the street from campus. In the trolly, he had a grill and cooked hamburgers, Lousiana rice, chicken and dumplings, and short orders. Behind the trolly, hanging over a ravine, was a long room with a hardwood floor. On one side of the room was a counter for ordering food. On the opposite side, in a corner, there was an old juke box with some really old songs on it. On each of the long sides of the room, there were some old student chairs with the writing arm on them, where people could sit and study and eat. Or they could wait until someone came along to dance with.

I was so thrilled the year that I no longer had to get up early for a class, and had to eat my meals in the dorm dining room. I made it a point to go to Mr. Ben's about 10 in the morning and rebel. Instead of breakfast food, I got one of his wonderful hamburgers. They were even better at that time of day. The first one off his grill was the best. I guess it was because the grill was still clean.

Sometimes, I would get a small bowl of chicken with dumplings, or rice, or stew at lunch time. (I really liked Helen's stew at the beer joint next door to Daddy's variety store, best, though.)

None of it cost over 25 cents an item. And 5 cents for a Coke. 10 cents for french fries or onion rings. And you could get a package of potato chips for 5 cents.

If there was a big crowd at the SUB, we would wander over to Mr. Ben's and listen to the jukebox, hoping someone would come in ready to dance.

In the drawing above, I showed one of the styles of the time and one outfit that I wore. I had an orange felt circle skirt, with about 6 to 8 petticoats under it. I borrowed Alison's white cashmere sweater and wore an orange scarf at my neck, (like they wore in the cowboy shows! That was "in style"!) , and either black flats or black and white saddle shoes. My hair was cut in duck tails. I carried my books around, but I wasn't very studious. I would rather dance!

During the summer, Mr. Ben closed up his place and went camping on the river. As I remember the story, one year, when the students returned, Mr. Ben didn't come back. He was found at his campsite on the river.

Our school colors were orange and white, which is the same for the University of Texas. When I would go to visit friends there, I wore my Sam Houston outfit and people thought I was from the university! I fit right in.

I didn't want to wear that outfit anymore after one older man, professor, told me he would pass me if I would sit on the front row of his class and wear that outfit to each class. I ran out of that place, and would not go back! I got an F in the class. I didn't know that I should have reported him. Of course, you didn't do anything about sexual harrassment, back then. Girls just tried to avoid the person and change the situation. Drop a class, move, quit a job, get a boyfriend or father to step in for you. I thought something was wrong with that man, anyway, when he told the class that things like tables and chairs were masculine or feminine! How could one tell? I wasn't about to ask! I just thought he was some kind of pervert! And that was confirmed when he told me how to pass his class!

Ah, but Mr. Ben's was a nice place to go, and Mr. Ben was a very kind, grandfatherly type of man. I thought he would be someone to go to for help, if needed. And, the kids and the noise of the jukebox and dancing, didn't seem to bother him a bit.

Most grown ups of the time thought our music was horrible, couldn't stand to hear it, told us it was trash and wouldn't last. Of course, that made us want to play it even more. It was great for dancing, fun, listening, parking, energizing, relaxing, and we're still listening to it. We thought some things were just funny and not to be taken seriously, although the adults thought we were thinking that it was great music. And, sometimes, we just tried to shock them with things like "the dirty bop". (Wasn't dirty, at all, and we laughed all the while we were dancing.)

Hope that you are going to be able to go out for some good dancing this weekend, or that you can watch.

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I noticed that at the 979 Gallery and Cafe in downtown Bryan (I hope that I didn't type that wrong, but it's close!) has a night when they have Swing Dancing. Now that should be fun. At least to watch. My knees won't move that well, but that is like the jitterbug and jitterbop that we used to do. So much fun!

I could go watch and sketch, maybe.

The night and times are on their website.

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Hopefully, if you are local, you got out to First Friday in Downtown Bryan tonight. I'm sure that it is fun, with so much to do. Lots of art, music, entertainment, food, and activities for all ages.

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Look at Virginia Vaughan's website for workshops coming up. She is doing a workshop in Rockport tomorrow, with an emphasis on drawing with the paintbrush.

She will be in Calvert February 21-22 for a Plein Aire Painting Workshop.

Sign up and join us!

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Thanks for reading and sharing with others.

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Circle Around The Square

Circle Around The Square

A Cold Weather Story

8.5" x 11"

pencil

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It was a cold January in 1958. I was a senior in college and went home for a special weekend.

Daddy was going to buy me a new car for my graduation present. He had a nice Ford Galaxie all picked out, through one of his friends who had a car dealership.

I wanted no part of such an ordinary car. I wanted a '51 MGTD, all black. I had dated a guy who drove a car like that, except his MG was white. I thought that was the cutest little car that I ever saw and would surely attract a lot of attention. It would be so much fun to whiz along with my hair blowing and, at the same time, have everyone look to see that darling little car. Not to mention, that it was sure to attract a lot of boys who would like to take a look at the engine and take care of the car. And that would, hopefully, get me some dates- boys who would love to drive or work on my little car.

Daddy finally searched and found a used '51 MGTD and he, reluctantly, bought it for me. He was sure that I would change my mind and want that shiney, new, all black Galaxie. But I was convinced that I would only look good in an MG. Without the MG, I was sure I would be dateless and an old maid.

The MG that he found was a bit scuffed and worn, to say the least. But, I thought that I could just clean it up and it would be gorgeous!

Daddy spent the weekend showing me the things that were wrong with the car, and telling me that I should leave it at home until it was fixed. I should take his '57 Ford Ranch Wagon back to college, if I just had to have a car. He knew that I would need a car to do my student teaching in the spring, so it was time to get used to driving more and be responsible for a vehicle.

I was too excited over my first new car to leave it behind and drive a family oriented station wagon. So, off I went in my little car, on Sunday afternoon, anxious to show off my car to everyone, and to test it out on the boys that hung out near Campus Corner, the drugstore, checking out each others' sports cars.

"It's going to be alright, Baby," I told the car. "Once I get you figured out, you are going to be a dream to drive!"

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I'm sure that my parents must have cringed as I drove away in that little car. It wasn't just the size, but the condition of the car, that made it dangerous. But, in those days, there wasn't a lot in the way of safety checks. No seat belts, no car inspections. Just buy your license and your car, and that was it, as long as you could make it run, some way or other.

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My little car had a white body, black fenders, and a green interior. I was disappointed in the color, but, if that was all he could find that was running, I would have to be happy with it. I really wanted a solid black car, but this one was still cute.

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It also had some serious problems.

The brakes didn't work all of the time. The way to stop the car was to gear it down until it was almost stopped, then hit something gently.

There was no gas gage. If I wanted to know how much gas I had, I got a yardstick out of the back and stuck it into the gas tank.

The leather seats were worn, but that wasn't too bad. Just didn't look so good.

The wooden interior was sort of, well, rotten. So, when I had the cloth top up, sometimes, if I hit a bump, the top slid down the wood and collapsed all over the interior.

The previous owners had cut into the wires and changed them around. So, when a button on the dash was pulled, I never knew what might happen. Lights might come on, or it could be the windshield wipers.

At night, sometimes, if I hit a bump, the lights might go out and I had to find another bump to hit and make the lights come back on.

There wasn't an actual heater, but there was a lot of heat from the engine coming up through the floorboard. Of course, it had no radio or air conditioner. But, then, not many cars had those luxuries then. There was plenty of fresh air and I could always sing if I wanted music.

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I was as happy as I could be with my cute little car. Gearing down, and little races with other sports cars was kind of fun. I looked forward to things like road rallies and getting together with other sports car owners. And I was so proud of my graduation present.

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I pulled up in the parking lot just outside the windows of my dorm room as I returned to campus that afternoon. I honked the horn and waved at my suitemates to come look at my graduation present. I took my things up to my room, and brought my friends down for a look at my car. I was grinning from ear to ear as we decided that we just had to try it out. Never mind that it was a two-seater. We would squeeze in four girls, one way or another!

It was cold, gray, drizzling a little when we jammed ourselves in the car. We were hoping it would snow. So, it was urgent that we get down the hill to town, circle around the square a few times, and get back up the hill in case the hill got icey and we couldn't make it back. I was driving, one suitemate sat in the other seat, one straddled the middle of the two seats over the emergency brake, and another smaller friend sat on the shelf in the back over the batteries. (Yes, it had two batteries. And also dual carborators.)

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Of course, despite the weather, we had to have the top down to show off our convertable. Besides, the person in the middle would have either had to bend over or their head would have gone through the canvas, if we had the top up.

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We laughed and giggled at all the little quirks of the car and the way that we were riding. Finally, after almost 4 years there, we had "wheels"! We were almost free and almost grown, or so we thought.

We made it to the square where the courthouse was located, surrounded by stores, restaurants, and movies. There weren't many people out, but, since it was a Sunday, with students returning from the weekend, there were a few people out to eat, going in to the movies, and some students in cars. We were the only ones circling the square that cold day, though.

We were almost hysterical with laughter as we tightend our headscarves against the cold air, and sang, at the top of our lungs, such hits as "We Wear Short Shorts". Tears ran down our faces from laughing. Even the term, "circle around the square" brought hysterical laughter.

"We had better get back to the dorm. It's getting really cold and looks like it's going to rain." Someone became more serious.

One more time around the square to wave at a couple of carloads of boys, and we headed back up the hill.

We fixed the top and side curtains on the MG and went in the dorm, exhausted from laughing.

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As I looked out of my windows, admiring my little MG in the parking lot, another small car drove into the parking lot. I was stunned, and watched to see who might be driving this car. I pressed my face to the window to see the car better. It was the car I really wanted. A solid black MGTD, with a little red in the interior. I didn't care about the red, but this was as close to solid black as you could probably get. This one was shiney and like new.

My excitement for my graduation present was greatly subdued when I saw that car. The figure that came out of the car was dressed in black and had a heavy black knit scarf draped over her black hair. I really liked the girl, so I was excited that she had a great car for her graduation present. But I was kind of sick at my stomach to think of how bad my car was compared to this one that she had brought back from the big city. I still didn't want the Ford, though, or even a later model MG.

My joy was dimmed, but, I thought that mine was a fun car, and we could get out and work on it along with the guys at Campus Corner. They would probably love to work on it and improve it. If we just kept our two cars apart, maybe mine wouldn't looks so bad. I have to admit, though, that it was kind of neat to see those two square-bodied MGs parked together at our dorm. There weren't any more of those around. The boy whose car I first admired had moved on to another college or into the service the semester after I dated him. I never did know. He was cute, but his car was most attractive, I thought.

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The following day after our ride in the cold, one suitemate had to go to the clinic and was really sick after our adventure around the square. Another one had a cold. That put another damper on our fun. I sat at my desk in my room, looking down at the parking lot at the two MGs parked side by side, glistening in the rain.

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Daringly, that semester, I bleached my hair, as much as I dared , with peroxide, to look better with my car, and even used a little mascara on my eyebrows and eyelashes (but only when I was away from home). Young ladies only wore "natural" lipstick for every day, and "red" lipstick for Sunday and dress up, in those days. Any more than that, and you were looked upon as a loose woman.

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In the spring, when I went to do my student teaching, I drove my MG most of the time. I liked to cruise around in my car and find others with sports cars or who were into racing.

In the mornings, as I was going to school, I would often encounter a man who had a new MGA, a white, probably '57, model. He was the weather man on the new tv station. As we sat at red lights, there was the inevitable "Wanna drag?", and we would race our engines, then speed off. That put me in a good mood for the day.

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One day, when I drove into the teachers parking area for the afternoon session, a group of boys ran out and pushed me all the way back to the street, as I was trying to drive forward. The only reason they stopped was when the bell rang to go to class and a big, male teacher came out and made them go back in the building. I didn't want to go back to that school, or any other, anymore. I made sure that I was in the same places as the rest of the teachers, and didn't get caught by myself again.

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When I went away to teach, my dad made me take the Ranch Wagon, a dependable car and one that looked more like a teacher. He worried about hurricanes on the Gulf Coast, too, and wanted to be sure that I could get out of there, if needed. With my first check, my dad insisted that we go look at new cars. Again, he wanted me to get a Galaxie. I wanted an MG. We found a sports car business near home, and we went to look at cars. He sold my MG, so I had to get a new car. That was the only car that he ever got rid of.

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Selecting a new car is another story.

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It's hard to believe that this happened 50 years ago. I guess the cold, gray weather we are having reminded me of the day that we circled around the square in my MG the first time.

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Please look at my Guest Book at the very bottom of my page. Thank you for signing and, if you like, share a picture.

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Thank you for reading. I appreciate your interest and support.

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September Song

September Song
8.5"x 11"
pencil
Saturday night in a dorm room on the campus of a small college, Sam Houston State, in Texas. A night for dates, parties, dancing, celebration of a win of the big football game in the afternoon. There is bustling activity as girls put on their formals for a big dance, anticipating a perfect evening. Others meet their dates in the lobby/dining area. One young man slips his date's wrap over her shoulders as they leave for a party.
There has been much primping, borrowing, changing clothes, asking for opinions and help from other girls as the young women work for the perfect look. They hope that their dates from Texas A&M University will show up in their uniforms, especially if they are seniors and can wear the prized senior boots. But, if they are not in the Corps, or even if they are from the local college, the girls hope that their dates will arrive, dressed up and using their best manners. They hope that they can go where they can show off their dates, as well as their outfits. And, they hope that this date will be the best ever, and something that will be permanent.
Spirits are high around the town after a football win, so everyone prepares for the big night with lots of energy.
And, then, there are those without dates. There's casual dress, jeans and a large shirt, shorts, or even a housecoat and slippers around the dorm. Books might be brought out, and some might make a trip to the library, or a few might go with another group of girls, to a movie and out to eat. Those would be the ones who still had money left, and whose boyfriends were too far away to come here and take them out. It might be time to catch up on laundry, cleaning, homework, or a group might get together for a card game.
On this Saturday night, late in September, in the 1950s, she sits alone in her dorm room while activity goes on outside of her little world. She has on jeans and a shirt, she is barefoot, and sits at her desk with books on the shelf, unopened. The little 45 record player is ready with some popular selections. A Coke sits ready to be sipped on during the evening. She has pulled out a couple of sheets of blue stationary from a box on the shelf. Fountain pen and a bottle of blue ink wait to be used. She will write a long letter as she listens to the record player and the radio. She hopes that the boy won't mind getting a letter from her. She really likes him, and he has asked her out several times. But, when he gets away from her, is she just a joke to him? After all, he is older, going to a big university, he's smart, and oh-so-good- looking. She writes a guarded letter, in her best handwriting, hoping that maybe he will ask her to one of those big football games at his school, to a dance, or, even, that he will ask her to go anywhere again. Before the letter is mailed, she will ask her friends to read it, to be sure that it is alright and that there are no mistakes. After all, like other girls, she came to college to meet her Prince Charming and live happily ever after. To her, he was that one. She had turned down dates with other boys she knew. And, so, here she was, on a Saturday night, listening, and writing, with tears in her eyes, while others went out to celebrate the big victory.
It was September, and, as "September Song" played, she envisioned a landscape outside of her window, with colorful leaves drifting down to fill the parking lot below. The weather would be cool and all those fall clothes she had brought to school would be comfortable. There would be the fragance of apples and sugar cane in the air. She would wear a soft, cashmere sweater, a felt circle skirt with lots of petticoats, a wide belt, a neckerchief or a cashmere collar, pearl earbobs, and ballerina shoes, and she would carry a matching cashmere sweater or poodle cloth jacket in case it got cooler. She would wear red lipstick and a hint of mascara on her eyebrows. She would have liked to have a long pony tail that would swing when she danced, but she lacked the patience it takes to let her hair grow that long. Instead she had ducktails and swept the top in a soft swirl. When her dream date would come to take her out, she would be ready for dancing, a movie, going out to eat, or even just riding or walking around.
But, this was Texas. It was still hot in September, so it was more practical to wear cotton clothing, although girls did wear layers of clothes and those tight merry widows. The leaves didn't change or flutter to the ground. Apples didn't grow in that part of the country. You would have to go to a store or fruit stand to find them. Sugar cane was brought in to the stores. Music didn't play all the time, and Prince Charming never did arrive on his big white horse to whisk her away to an enchanted life.
The only time she got to go to one of those big football games was when she went with her grandfather and her father. She never got to go to a dance at the big school.
The boy did come back, a few times, but he moved on, and so did she. But, she still remembered. And, one day not long ago, she wondered where the time had gone and knew that her dream never would come true.
She did go out, and go dancing, and to other big dances, with other boys, over the years, and went on with life.
Back then, it did truly seem like a long, long time, from May to December, and through the rest of the year. The days have grown short, now that it is Semptember. Time to watch the young ones, and remember. As I watched the A&M-Baylor football game today, I couldn't help but remember.
"September Song" is done in pencil and shows a memory of college days. Except for football and tv programs and ads, and the stores decorated with pumpkins and Halloween objects, it's a bit hard to get in the mood for what we think of as traditional autumn around here. Often, what happens is that leaves on some trees start to change, then a norther comes through and knocks all the leaves to the ground. So, we go from summer, to a few days that look like we are going to have autumn, then we go directly to winter-for a few days. Soon, it's hot again, and summer-like.
As September comes to a close, I hope that it has been a good, memorable month for you. We look forward to the promise of October.
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