Growing Up in Provo
By: W. Ray Luce
We grew up in an almost ideal time and place. The Rivergrove First Ward was predominately young families who after World War II had purchased starter homes in our neighborhood. The ward included many established homes—especially along 5th West, and in the southern part of the ward, but perhaps a majority were in the houses built by local (ward member) contractor, "Oldey” Knudsen. The number of youths in our ward is illustrated in a recently rediscovered photograph dated 1953. The photo was originally identified as a school class but it was our Sunday School class. It shows 20 of us 6 girls and 14 boys plus our teacher. So, there were lots of people our age to associate with.
We had an advantage. We had more land than most houses. What had originally been grandpa’s land—about 2 acres, now had his house, a little house, which he did not build, next to it and Rex and Mary’s house on 5th West, and our half acre lot adjoining on 6th West. We had 5 apple trees, and a tree hut built for me by my Uncle Grant. I vaguely remember Grandpa’s cow and pigs, but Grandma’s and our chickens were ever-present. The main feature of the compound was the gardens. Each of the three families had a large garden which grew a variety of vegetables. Over the years Grandma moved some of her gardens from vegetables to flowers, and Rex and my folks moved some of the gardens into lawn. A series of clothes lines bordered the path through the block (where 7th North would have gone) which was used by most of the neighbor kids as well as our families. My sister Loretta and I were joined by Rex and Mary’s 7 children. Kenneth was my age, Martha a year older, Joe three years older and Rayana and Caroline the oldest. Mary Ann was Loretta’s age and Bart the youngest. I spent more time with Joe than with any other cousin.
We had school friends and ward friends. During the summer and Christmas vacations our ward friends were the go-to companions for activities. For example, during the Christmas vacation, after going around to see what your friends got for Christmas, I spent most of the vacation at Uncle Rex’s. We played whatever new game or puzzles people had received that year plus the old standard Canasta. During the summer, after we had finished our chores, we were expected to be back before dark but there was little direction beyond that. Our parents knew that other adults would correct us if we got too far out of line. A sidenote on neighborhood friends was that in an era without cell phones- and in some cases without telephones the standard way to tell children they should come home was for a parent to go on the front or back porch and call them. The call was the child’s name with a special tone or cadence. We knew our parent’s voices and almost always went home when we heard the call.
Summer activities
We grew up in a different world. There was no TV, limited organized sport teams so we had to organize our own activities. There were limited summer jobs, not because of any laws, but because we lived in Provo and at that time there were lots of college students looking for jobs—so they got most of the available jobs. We had our daily chores, but after they were complete, we were free to do what we wanted to do. My chores often included such things as gathering two buckets of rocks from the garden next to the house, to irrigating the garden and back lawn, to working in the garden. We earned some money working for our grandparents. Joe mowed their lawns; I shoveled chicken manure from grandma’s chicken coop and I think we both earned a penny apiece for catching rose beetles on grandma’s roses. We also earned money from a variety of jobs we could get. One of the first was picking fruit. I don’t remember how we learned of the jobs—mostly “word of mouth,” I think. We would get up very early and stand on the corner (my memory is at the corner of 8th north and 5th West). A pick-up truck or usually a little larger truck would come by (again early) and pick us up-- in the bed of the truck. Sometimes there were a lot of us and there would be low wooden walls on the bed of the truck—nothing that would pass an elementary OSHA inspection today. We would be taken to the strawberry patch or cherry orchard and sign in. We were given a row or two rows for strawberries or a tree for cherries and we were paid by the pound (2 ½ cents a pound somehow comes to mind). The farmer got limited use of us on the first day as we may have eaten as much as we picked. After a stomach ache we produced more the next days throughout the season. I do remember families also picking the crops and they always out produced us. They may have been brought into the area to pick crops. I can remember Joe and I trying to wake up Kenneth on several mornings. Rex and his family also sold night crawlers for fishermen. I was never sure whether it was a family business, Rex’s or Joe’s business. We irrigated many of our lawns and after a lawn had been submerged large night crawlers would come up on the lawn—for a little air? We would go with flashlights and cans to catch them. We would cover most of the head of the flashlight leaving only a small ray of light as we searched for them. When we found one, we would grab it—often gently pulling it out of the ground and put it in a can. The night crawlers were then taken up to Rex’s and put in a box with some special earth. I am not sure what we got for catching the worms, but it was not much. During the summer there was a sign (metal pipe pole holding a sign) that said, as I remember “Night crawlers 10cents a dozen.” When the worms were gone a gunny sack was placed over the sign. Customers would see the sign, stop, knock on the door and buy their fish bait.
We also got more conventional jobs. Joe had a paper route (Salt Lake Tribune, I think), and sometimes I would sub for him or ride with him—I do not remember doing the route alone. We would go down to the paper’s local office at something like 2nd West and 1st North to pick up the bundles of papers as they came off the truck, roll them, and put them in the paper bag. I remember a bag that attached to the handle bars of a bicycle. The route went from somewhere near Joe’s house (707 North 5th West) up past 12th North and included Riverside Motel, which was a group of log cabins next to the Provo River on the east side of 5th West above 12th North. There must have been some permanent or at least long-time residents in the motel. I remember the paper route most vividly in the winter when we used kerosene? Fueled hand warmers to keep our hands warm. I think my first outside job was setting pins at the ….. bowling alley on University Avenue and 12th North—across the road from where the new Provo High School was constructed. I was 12 and earned 10 cents a line. We would be in elevated spot between two lanes. As each ball was bowled we would jump into that pit, pick up the ball and put it on an elevated track to roll back to the bowler. If pins had been knocked into the pit we would load them in a machine above the pins—starting with the number one pin and working back. After the second ball was thrown an automatic bar would sweep all of the pins into the pit. We would send back the ball and then pick up the remaining pins load them into the mechanism above the pins and then pull a rope that would lower the apparatus with the pins onto the lane and then move up out of the way above the lane and await our filling it with pins again when the next bowler bowled on that lane. I had to get a social security card to work there and when no one was bowling we got to play pool for free.
Joe later worked for Ahlander’s Hardware—a wholesale and manufacturing company on University Avenue in Provo that started as a carriage factory and then moved into general wholesale. Aunt Mary worked there as well. I am not sure what Joe did at first, but he soon was part of the crew that built “Home on the Range” sheep wagons.
Since there were few organized activities for children, we had to make up most of our summer games. Kick the can was the king—the go to game. A can was placed near the poplar tree, behind the “little house” (between Grandpa’s and Rex’s homes) under a light pole that I think Rex wired. A can was put on the ground and the person selected as it would close their eyes while everyone else hid. The person who was it would go out to find the others. If they found someone and could race back to the can and jump over the can saying over the can for…. That person was then captured and stayed near the can. If someone made it to the can before being captured, they would kick the can yelling loudly “Kick the can,” Everyone who had been captured would be free to run and hide. If everyone was captured the first person captured (or the last?) would be it and the game would start over again. While playing we had to be careful not to get in Grandmother’s flowers—or we would hear about it and a time or two, threats were given or the game would have to move elsewhere. One additional benefit of the game, occasionally, was a potato roast. Near where the can was placed was the traditional bonfire spot where brush, tree clippings etc. were burned. For a potato roast everyone would bring a large potato which would be thrown into the fire. A long time later using sticks the ashes would be searched for the potatoes which amazingly would not be totally burned. The potatoes had a large burned ash layer, but with a spoon and salt the interiors were delicious.
Another popular game was “Annie-I-Over”. We almost always played it at Rex’s house. We were divided into two teams—one would go to each side of his house. A rubber ball or tennis ball was then thrown by a member of one team over the house. As it was thrown a call of “Annie-I-Over” would be made to alert the other team that the ball was coming. If the ball did not make it over the house a call of “Annie-Come-Back” would be made and the ball would be thrown again. If the team on the other side of the house did not catch the ball, they would retrieve the ball and throw it over the house with the “Annie-I-Over” call. If someone caught the ball their team would run around one side of the house and try to tag members of the opposite team who, if tagged, would then join their team. One suspected the ball had been caught if the other team took a long time to throw the ball back. If it was suspected that the other team had caught the ball the opposite team moved back in anticipation because the other team might be coming from either side of the house.
Another game—usually played just behind Rex’s house was the “Jolly Butcher Boy.” The group would divide into two teams. One team would move back, caucus and think of a charade of a job and then go back to the other team saying “Here comes the jolly butcher boy singing for his trade”. The other team would respond: “What’s your trade?” The first team would respond with “Ice cream and lemonade.” To which the second team would say, “Show us something if you’re not afraid.” The first team would then do their charade while the other team tried to guess what it was. If they guessed correctly, they would chase the first team as they ran back behind a free line. If any were touched before reaching the free line they joined the other team. The process would then continue with the second team preparing a charade. The game would continue until one team had all the players.
I also remember playing “No bears are out tonight” and “Red Rover, Red Rover” usually on the large lawn in front of the “little house.”
We also played “workups” usually in Goodman’s field in the interior of the block behind Grandma’s chicken coop and the nearby fence. Workups was a baseball game when you did not have enough people to have two full teams. You needed enough people to have a pitcher, catcher, three basemen and a couple of fielders—and some batters. A person would start in the field and then as people got out, they would move up to the other fielder spots, then from third base to first base then to pitcher and catcher and then would be up as a batter.
We would also go on “bike rides.” Not long organized rides, but to a friend’s house or to the woods near the river. If we were trying to find someone we could tell where they were by their bike being on someone’s front yard. My mother said that when I learned to ride a bike it was like giving me wings. I had my father’s bike a thin wheel bike with back pedal brakes made during World War II. If I remember Joe had a newer bike.
We had a variety of other activities—I remember digging an “underground hut” on the back of Rex’s property. We would dig a hole, cover it with boards and then dirt and then go into it. I also remember playing tag on log cabin in a neighbor back yard south on 5th west. We would scurry up and around the walls to avoid being tagged.
Both Joe and I raised pigeons, although Joe was much more involved than I was. Joe constructed a coop for them while I cut a hole in the side of our chicken coop and put on a landing board for them. Pigeon raising was very popular and there were exotic breeds. Rollers –who rolled in the air as they flew, fan tails, homers etc. There was a good deal of trading and buying, and capturing wild pigeons.
We went camping—not just on organized boy scout activities, but camping we organized. Two of my first ones were very naive. Joe, Kenneth and I rode our bicycles, loaded with our camping equipment, down near Utah Lake. We had no concept of private property and so when we found a place that looked promising, we set up our tent and went to bed. Early in the morning we heard strange sounds and peeked out of our tent to find a heard of cows who thought they owned the pasture where we were sleeping. Another early camping experience showed how little I knew. We decided to hike Provo Peak and knew it might take two days so we loaded our packs and hiked up past the Y. It grew hot and my pack seemed heavy so I decided I did not need all the things I was carrying so I took part of my sleeping bag (it had layers) and some other things and stashed them off the trail. We camped on Maple flats and I suddenly discovered how cold it got at higher altitudes and found that I needed the other layer for my sleeping bag. I stayed near the fire for a long time and then put plants over my sleeping bag, but was still very cold. Joe and Kenneth did not have layered bags and so they did fine. We made it to the base of Provo Peak before returning. I did not make the mistake again. We also spent several nights each year on Rex’s back yard “sleeping out” in a little pup tent. Much of our scouting equipment was “war surplus.” At various times we, or our leaders, would be called down to the railroad where box cars of packs or canteens or sleeping bags would be given or sold at very low prices to scouts. One of the exciting places to visit was Bob’s Army Navy Store at 73 North 100 North. It was a two-story building filled—and I mean filled with every imaginable items—mostly war surplus.