The Good Ole Days
by Frieda Elizabeth Taylor Aiken
Most children in Oxford growing up in the 1950’s and 1960’s rode their bikes everywhere they needed to go. In the summer, I would get on my bike early in the morning and ride to one of my friend’s houses. We would play outside all day, coming inside only to have lunch. We built forts in the kudzu, made mud pies topped with Magnolia berries, rode horses, played with goats and hitched them to wagons, played on tire swings, and skated on the paved circle near the old city hall. We also got to go swimming at the Covington pool or to Elis’s lake when we could talk someone into taking us.
I guess you would have called us latchkey children, but those were the “good ole days.”
I guess you would have called us latchkey children, but those were the “good ole days.”
Those Were the Days
I am an only child, and I knew that my daddy could build anything. One of the most wonderful things Daddy ever built was a playhouse for me, which I dearly loved. My friends and I spent a great deal of our childhood playing in my playhouse. It is still very special to me, and I had it moved to my home in Newton County when Mother’s house sold several years ago. We didn’t have any “wimpy” Easy Bake Ovens back then. I had a real miniature, pink, electric oven that would bake anything -- and also cause a pretty painful burn if you were not careful.
Mamma made pretty curtains for the windows, I put framed pictures on the walls, and my friends and I made woven potholders on looms for the playhouse. We baked cakes, toast, cookies, and biscuits in the oven, dressed up in Mamma’s clothes and jewelry, and had tea parties. We could also play in the playhouse all day with my cats, or dolls, if the cats ran away. We would even dress up the cats, put them in doll carriages, and push them around the yard until they would have no more of it. If you ever saw a cat running around in a doll dress, it was probably one of my cats.
Mamma made pretty curtains for the windows, I put framed pictures on the walls, and my friends and I made woven potholders on looms for the playhouse. We baked cakes, toast, cookies, and biscuits in the oven, dressed up in Mamma’s clothes and jewelry, and had tea parties. We could also play in the playhouse all day with my cats, or dolls, if the cats ran away. We would even dress up the cats, put them in doll carriages, and push them around the yard until they would have no more of it. If you ever saw a cat running around in a doll dress, it was probably one of my cats.
The Ice Storm of 1960
The ice storm of 1960 is one of my favorite memories of growing up in Oxford. My father, Fred Taylor, grew up in Oxford. He married Elizabeth Sowell and they lived at 605 Emory Street for 55 ½ years, until the time of his death in 1997. My mother continued to live on Emory Street until 2009.
Daddy was very active in the community and was a volunteer firefighter. The firefighters always responded when help was needed. During the days before the storm, the people in the town were expecting bad weather -- but they didn’t expect what came. The rain and sleet started, and by nightfall, the beautiful trees made Oxford looked like a winter wonderland. The trees soon began feeling the weight of the build-up of ice. Their limbs started to break taking down electrical lines with them as they fell. Power was going out in all different places. Daddy and many firefighters went to work to help with downed power lines.
My grandmother, aunt, and uncle lived north of Oxford. My aunt called to let us know that they had lost their electricity, so we invited them to come to our house. We had plenty of beds, and we only had to get out extra blankets. We were all very warm and cozy -- until the transformer in front of our house exploded, leaving us without electricity. At six years of age, I thought that the explosion was really exciting.
We were able to get breakfast together, and for lunch and dinner we had roasted hot dogs, melted cheese sandwiches, and hot soup, which we cooked in our fireplace. I thought it was fun, “camping inside the house,” and we even toasted marshmallows. Daddy made the best of the situation by chopping wood so that we could keep the fire going in the fireplace.
The power came back on in several days, but it took Mamma and Daddy days to get our house back to normal. We had spilled soup, melted candle wax, and melted marshmallows in places you would not believe. I didn’t see much of Daddy during the weeks after the storm because he and other citizens of Oxford helped restore our town to its normal status. It took weeks to get all the tree limbs cut up and hauled away from the streets.
As for me, as is typical with any six-year old, I was dreaming of and wishing that we would soon be “blessed” with another “wonderful” ice storm.
Daddy was very active in the community and was a volunteer firefighter. The firefighters always responded when help was needed. During the days before the storm, the people in the town were expecting bad weather -- but they didn’t expect what came. The rain and sleet started, and by nightfall, the beautiful trees made Oxford looked like a winter wonderland. The trees soon began feeling the weight of the build-up of ice. Their limbs started to break taking down electrical lines with them as they fell. Power was going out in all different places. Daddy and many firefighters went to work to help with downed power lines.
My grandmother, aunt, and uncle lived north of Oxford. My aunt called to let us know that they had lost their electricity, so we invited them to come to our house. We had plenty of beds, and we only had to get out extra blankets. We were all very warm and cozy -- until the transformer in front of our house exploded, leaving us without electricity. At six years of age, I thought that the explosion was really exciting.
We were able to get breakfast together, and for lunch and dinner we had roasted hot dogs, melted cheese sandwiches, and hot soup, which we cooked in our fireplace. I thought it was fun, “camping inside the house,” and we even toasted marshmallows. Daddy made the best of the situation by chopping wood so that we could keep the fire going in the fireplace.
The power came back on in several days, but it took Mamma and Daddy days to get our house back to normal. We had spilled soup, melted candle wax, and melted marshmallows in places you would not believe. I didn’t see much of Daddy during the weeks after the storm because he and other citizens of Oxford helped restore our town to its normal status. It took weeks to get all the tree limbs cut up and hauled away from the streets.
As for me, as is typical with any six-year old, I was dreaming of and wishing that we would soon be “blessed” with another “wonderful” ice storm.
Special Memories of Moss’s Store
Children have always sat in the classroom watching the clock during the last period of the day. Clocks seemed to slow to almost a stop before school was finally out for the day. Growing up in Oxford in the 1950s and 1960s was wonderful because Palmer Stone was a very good school and Moss’s Store was just across the street. As soon as school got out, my friend and I would rush to get to the store first to get drinks, snacks, or ice cream. We always were safe because Palmer Stone had a school crossing guard even way back then. I loved going to the store because I got to visit my great-aunt Bonnie and I often got my purchases for free. My favorite things to get were “Push-Ups” with orange sherbet ice cream, a glass bottle of Coke, which I would pour peanuts into, green onion potato chips, or a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
I have always had a very special connection with Moss’s Store. In 1921, my great-grandfather moved from Walton County to Oxford and purchased the house, blacksmith shop, outbuildings (including a building with a 100 gallon gas tank) and property from Mrs. Mary J. Williams. Daddy was raised by his grandparents, A. D. and Bulah Harris, and they lived in the house beside the store. My Great Aunt Bonnie Moss, daughter of A. D. and Bulah Harris, ran the store, and Daddy worked at the store pumping gas as soon as he was old enough.
My husband and I lived in the house daddy grew up in after we married in 1972.
I have always had a very special connection with Moss’s Store. In 1921, my great-grandfather moved from Walton County to Oxford and purchased the house, blacksmith shop, outbuildings (including a building with a 100 gallon gas tank) and property from Mrs. Mary J. Williams. Daddy was raised by his grandparents, A. D. and Bulah Harris, and they lived in the house beside the store. My Great Aunt Bonnie Moss, daughter of A. D. and Bulah Harris, ran the store, and Daddy worked at the store pumping gas as soon as he was old enough.
My husband and I lived in the house daddy grew up in after we married in 1972.