Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Click on image to get a larger view of the card.

Another year; another Christmas letter, another compilation of experiences. First reaction… we didn’t do anything special. Wait? What about this trip, what about that visit? After six years living in our Utah home, we’ve definitely settled in.

We continue to be amazed by this place, its landscapes - forests, deserts, mountains, the redrock canyons. We don’t hike as much as we’d hoped, but we add new experiences as we have time. This year, we made our first trip to Upper Calf Creek Falls (Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument), and we explored the South side of Monroe Mountain via the Pole Canyon Rd. We spent some time in the Bears Ears area and the nearby House of Fire Ruin. Spectacular! A few months back, we were treated to an afternoon watching and photographing wild horses in the nearby San Rafael Swell (BLM) region.

Larry is enjoying the freedom of full retirement, and keeps busy. This fall, he began working on the patio outside our walk-out basement and completed adjacent landscaping work. The patio project is now on hold until warmer weather returns, so Larry has turned his attention back to refinishing ladder back chairs. There are a few dozen more chairs to rehabilitate. Annette is still busy teaching at IUPUI (Indiana University Purdue University at Indianapolis). Since 2002, she has developed a total of twenty-three different online courses. In addition as the Social Media Editor for Teacher Librarian Magazine, she writes 365 reviews a year: one-review-a-day of a book, app, or a website for children or young adults. Annette also continues to write the Info Tech column for Teacher Librarian (Tenth year next April).

And the people, the talent of our friends and neighbors continues to amaze us. We join many of them in planning and delivering events with The Entrada Institute. Summers speed by with weekly music, festivals, and more. We again volunteered to photograph events of the Wayne County Fair. Another event activity added this past year was volunteer photographers for the two-day bike stage races of the Capitol Reef Classic. We had a great time at these and other events.

We made three trips back to the Midwest (Jan, May and Nov) visiting daughter Brooke in Chicago, Larry’s families downstate and Annette’s parents and sister Allison in Missouri. On the May trip we stopped in Fort Collins, Colorado a few days to visit son Benji and help celebrate his graduate school graduation. We also enjoyed a Spring trip to Austin to visit the Rathsack family and do some babysitting. Alex and Kaylee are growing up fast, so our babysitting fun is quickly coming to an end. In June, we drove and camped through Nevada and California, visiting Great Basin National Park and Wheeler Mtn., Donner Memorial State Park, Angel Island and Point Reyes National Seashore. In addition, Annette presented at the American Library Association conference in San Francisco. We spent three days in the city, saw the sights and enjoyed some excellent seafood.

In retrospect, we did do some things this year. We have already begun planning for our annual Winter Valentine’s Day Party. This will be the 7th Annual - - lots of great food, drink, people and live music. If you are in the area on Feb. 13th, 2016. You are invited.

We’re looking forward to a Christmas holiday camping trip. We will take our teardrop camper “Miss Daisy” on a leisurely drive through Arizona, New Mexico, and on to Texas with a few days in the Big Bend area. Our annual destination for the holidays is Austin, TX and time with Annette’s sister, parents, and family.

Today there’s a little snow on the ground, the road is clear, and it’s bright and sunny. Annette is baking Christmas cookies and has asked Larry for help with a batch of fudge. Winters are cozy here in Utah. Come visit. We would love to show you around this region.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year from Annette and Larry

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Turn the Radio On

The Music
A music fan; I like music of almost all types. For several years, I've booked musicians, singers, and music groups that perform at the Bookstore Stage in Torrey, UT for The Entrada Institute. Myself, I don't have much talent in singing or playing an instrument. I keep an acoustic guitar around home, and take it out of its case now and then. I know a few chords, but my attempts at playing are strictly solo, without an audience. Not much of a singer either, but I enjoy singing . . . in the car, in the shower - - alone.

Reminder that colored text here indicates an active link; click on them and you will be taken to offsite resources.

From an early age, I was drawn to music - - that is, listening to music. And the first music I heard was likely on the radio. Sometime around 1957, in my childhood family an old clock radio was replaced (mainly used to wake my Dad for early morning farm work). My brothers and I took the old one upstairs to our bedrooms. We tried using a metal coathanger and aluminum foil to improve its reception. The best time seemed to be late at night when some of the AM stations boosted their signals - - occasionally I could pickup a station from Memphis, TN, probably WDIA. Three hundred and sixty miles away.

A quick rundown of some of the pop music of the Fifties leading into the Sixties (Perhaps not always in order). Popular styles included big band and orchestras, jazz, ballad crooners and song stylists (Nat King Cole), and traditional country tunes (Hank Williams) and then Rockabilly. I remember kids my age and older still citing Stardust (1927 by Hoagy Carmichael), covered by groups such as Glenn Miller and His Orchestra as their favorite song. 

Your Hit Parade was a weekly network TV show that aired from 1950 to 1959 (Its radio predecessor began in 1935 and ran for fifteen years). I did not watch the show until the late Fifties when my family first got a television. Each week the seven top popular songs were featured and performed in reverse order by the Hit Parade cast of singers and dancers. The top songs were determined somehow by a ‘national survey of record sales.’ American Tobacco Company’s Lucky Strike cigarette brand sponsored the show. Each week on Saturday night, the audience would anticipate which songs would be in the top three positions and how many weeks they might stay there.

A vivid childhood memory is of me and my two older brothers being invited over to a neighboring farmhouse by an elderly couple to watch television on a Sunday night. We washed and scrubbed, put on our best clothes, and were dropped off in the early evening. There was popcorn and Kool-aid, but my main recollection is seeing and listening to the Nat King Cole Show. At that time, I did not realize his was the first network music variety series hosted by a black performer.

By the late-Fifties, youngsters like myself were beginning to listen to rhythm and blues music with its stronger rhythms, often faster-paced beats, and sometimes suggestive lyrics. Music by black performers such as Fats Domino and Little Richard.

Yeah, I remember listening to 'rockabilly music' too.
"Well, I never felt more like singing the Blues
cause I never thought, that I'd ever lose
your love Dear. Why'd you do me this way?"

That is the first song that I remember learning all of the words and singing along to - - whistle if you wish.

Marty Robbins and many others covered Guy Mitchell's pop-hit of 1956; YouTube has numerous other versions - guess I was in good company.

The Sixties . . .
Growing up in the rural Midwest nearby hometown Findlay, IL, guys around my age spent hundreds of hours driving around in automobiles (Gas was cheap, around 30 cents per gallon) and listening to radio, station WLS at AM 890 kilocycles on the dial.

Five thousand watts of power that on a clear, cold night could reach way out into Iowa, east to Ohio and beyond, north to Deer River MN, or down to the Ozark hilltops and beyond to Louisiana. WLS - - 'The Bright Sounds of Chicago Radio'. Music fans could pick up the station’s evening, atmospheric ‘skip’ hundreds and sometimes a thousand of miles away. WLS made the world seem a little smaller to the average guy growing up in a place that they thought was the middle of nowhere. We ignored the signal drift and static that only lasted for a little while before the signal came back gangbusters strong. The call letters, WLS originally stood for ‘World’s Largest Store” - the station was owned by Sears, Roebucks way back when it started as a country station. But by the Sixties and into the Seventies, it was basically Top-40 music all the time and had some well-known deejays that ushered in the golden age of top forty radio.

Walt Mizener (Apr 2015) posted an article on Facebook about 'Superjock' Larry Lujack’s death (Dec 2013). Lujack was one of a string of radio deejays from the Sixties and Seventies who kept WLS radio as a top rated Top40 station.

In early May of 1960 a pack of new deejays were hired by WLS and revolutionized the music heard in the Chicago area. “WLS’s Swinging Seven” (Art Roberts, Mort Crowley, Jim Dunbar, Dick Biondi, Gene Taylor, Bob Hale, and Clark Weber) became known all over the country. Bob Hale was the MC of the Winter Dance Party the night Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper played in Clear Lake, Iowa (February 1959) . . . “the day the music died.”

A Sixties feature at WLS Radio was the Silver Dollar Survey Countdown. The survey was compiled each week from record sales reports gathered in the Chicagoland area. 

Lujack, Biondi and some of the others . . .
Dick Biondi was at WLS in 1960 to 1963. He was named the number one disc jockey in the country by Billboard magazine in 1961 and 1962. He called himself 'The wild I-talion' and (Suspended for some FFC violations) was noted for his occasional off-color jokes. Around 1962, I remember his on-air-comment “Meanwhile back at the oasis, the Arabs are eating their dates.” Is my memory correct? Did the station go silent a few moments and then another deejay take Biondi's place? The dreaded FCC censor at work . . .

Biondi drew an unbelievable sixty percent of all radio listeners as 'The Screamer' at WLS. One fan noted that “No matter how crazy things get, as long as you can still hear ‘The Wild I-talian’ on the radio, you just know that all is right with the world.” (Robert Feder, 2009). Listen to Dick Biondi WLS Radio Second Anniversary Show 1962.

WLS fired Biondi three years to the day of his hiring because of a dispute over the amount of advertising that was broadcast during his air time. He was the first to play a Beatles tune on radio; 'Please Please Me' in 1963. He was influential in advancing the careers of performers like Gene Vincent, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis Presley. Dick Biondi was inducted into the Radio Hall of Fame (1998). Sometimes sidelined for health reasons, today he's still on-air at WLS-FM 94.7 Radio; Biondi claims that he wants to die with his headphones on . . . 

There were others:
Dex Card
Clark Weber (East of Midnight show)
Bob Hale - MC 'Feb. 2, 1959' in Clear Lake, IA
Ron Riley (Sixties) 
Art Roberts (Sixties) 'Bedtime Stories'

Tribute to WLS Sounds of the 60s

Bill Bailey (Seventies) Includes an audio clip.
Fred Winston (Seventies)
Joel Sebastion Show (Seventies)
Jon ‘Records’ Landecker (Seventies) - "Records was truly his middle name." He created 'Boogie Check', 'Americana Panorama', and satirical songs and bits based on current events such as 'Make a Date with the Watergate' and 'Press My Conference'.

Larry Lujack was a standout WLS deejay, the Superjock of the Seventies. Uncle Lar, the ‘wild man’, and ‘king of radio’ was on-the-air with his sidekick, Lil’ snot-nosed Tommy (Tommy Edwards).

"When buying a used car, punch the buttons on the radio. If all the stations are rock and roll, there's a good chance the transmission is shot." - Larry Lujack

Among Lujack's most popular radio bits were Animal Stories (Made three albums of them in all) and the Cheap Trashy Showbiz Report. Animal Stories included the tale of an anteater who had a twelve inch tongue and could move it in and out of its mouth forty times a minute. Lujack's response was, "I'd bet mom would love that for Mother's day"!

Larry Lujack "Off the Record" Part 1 of 3.

Who remembers the 'Tooth Fairy' stories with Dick Orkin, nurse Durkin, and the Toothmobile? Or the ads for drag strips in Union Grove, WI and Oswego Speedway in IL. SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!

Other great links:
WLS 890 AM Chicago - The Lost Sixties

WLS Radio 25th Anniversary TV Show Ch-7 Chicago (1985)
The radio station celebrated its 25th anniversary of playing rock and roll with this retrospective TV show. Most of the disc jockeys of the past (and some of the present at the time) appear on this program. The program was hosted by the late super jock Larry Lujack

There were a few other AM Radio competitors in nearby regions. During summer vacations back to the Arkansas Ozarks, I listened to KAAY out of Little Rock (K Double A Y!), another 50,000 watt clear channel station - Clyde Clifford and Beaker Street.

WDIA-AM Memphis in the Sixties was the among the nation's first stations to devote its entire format to black popular music. They were the first to have African American broadcasters on staff; Nat D. Williams, B.B. King, Rufus Thomas, and many others demonstrated an original flair, wit, and personality that helped attract young black and white listeners alike. Whether they were making up poems on the spot or urging their listeners to stay in school, these deejays made WDIA the true pulse of Memphis. Late night clear channel AM broadcasts, "50 thousand watts of goodwill" out of WDIA opened the doors to blues music by James Brown (Caldonia), B.B. King, and more.

Back in the day, we listened to WLS almost exclusively. It was the golden age of AM Radio. These days, WLS is talk radio with a few seemingly sane hosts augmented by mostly jabbering nutcases; syndicated programming such as Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity.

Have a related memory to share. Click on the 'comments' below and add your ideas and information. (Do that on any posting). lj

Tuesday, April 07, 2015

Ivan S. Kennard, March 29, 1922 - April 4, 2015

Don Gher shared this information:
Obituary for Ivan S. Kennard
(Excerpted from Moore Funeral Homes, lots of great photos in the Tribute section)

Ivan (“Ike”) Kennard, 93, died Saturday, April 4, 2015, at his home in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Ike was born on March 29, 1922, in Lawrence County, Illinois, to Ephraim Henry Kennard and Hattie Leora Schrodt. He married Joan King on April 23, 1943. She survives along with their daughter Marlys Fallen and husband Carl, Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Ike attended Eastern Illinois University and was a World War II Navy pilot and flight instructor. After the war, he returned to Charleston where he lived until September 2011 when he and Joan moved to Tulsa. Ike was the owner of "Ike's Little Campus" across the street from Eastern Illinois University. He was a longtime supporter of EIU.

Besides his wife and daughter, Ike is survived by his older brother Joseph Kennard, Coral Gables, Florida, and many nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents, his sisters Phyllis Copeland, Kathryn Hacker, Elaine Mahon and Frances Brooks; and his brothers Hayes and Rex Kennard, and his sons Stephen Wayne Kennard and Michael King Kennard.

Click here for more from EIU.

Friday, March 06, 2015

Prelude . . .

Billboard Year-End Hot 100 singles of 1964:
Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug
Make you want to holler hi-de-ho
Burns your tummy, don't cha know?
Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug’

Written and performed by Roger Miller (This was his second pop hit; it made it to number 9 on the U.S. charts in 1964).

Gilliland, John (1969). Interview on the Pop Chronicles (Track 2). University of North Texas Digital Library:
Singer, songwriter, musician Roger Miller claimed that his song was based on the true story of a friend of his who could “drink a beer in three seconds.”

EIU Fall Quarter 1964
As part of the largest freshman class at EIU ever - that is, up until sixty five; the first year that Eastern’s total enrollment topped over four thousand students . . . we were the high school class of 64, ‘the best and the brightest’, at least that was what we heard a few years later - - we had the highest ACT scores ever. Temper that with eventually knowing that the ACT was first administered in the fall of 1959 (SATs are a much older academic measure). Later in 1972, David Halberstam used the phrase as the title of his best-selling book about the Vietnam War. For the record, ACT averages topped out much higher (And more seniors took the test) in 2009.

Thanks to Superintendent Alton Baker (Findlay IL Schools did not have a counselor, ‘Bake’ covered as best he could) for helping me get to EIU. Early in my Findlay High years, Bake called me into his office and asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I replied that I hoped to go to college, and he said that he would see if he could help me get there. My ACT score and a financial need form led to the award of an Illinois State Scholarship. It paid for all of my tuition and University fees for four years. With Bake’s help (He had done much the same for my two-yr. older brother, Bob), I had worked as a student custodian for three years at the high school. My last two summers were spent mowing the lawn and athletic fields, cleaning and refinishing floors, and other maintenance tasks. I had saved up a few hundred dollars to get started at EIU, but my work earnings had also been used for clothes and class supplies.

That fall quarter, my first underlying concern was whether I could handle the academic rigor, pass the courses . . . brother Bob, a straight A student throughout high school, was a student employee on campus (Student manager of the University Union Snack Bar) and was struggling to maintain grades in pre-engineering while working 30 plus hours a week. I just had to find a way to cover my room and board; that was the big chunk. I didn’t have enough money for even my first year.

Many EIU students came from small towns and rural farm communities throughout Illinois; my central Illinois home was near Findlay, and college classmates and friends were from Beecher City, Cisne, Dupo, Clinton, Hillsboro, Effingham, Sullivan, Blue Mound, Shelbyville, Fairbury, Buffalo. Others were from cities like Belleville, Decatur, Champaign, Peoria, Springfield. A few were from inner city and suburbs of St. Louis and Chicago. On campus, there were new dorm buildings being planned and under construction. The late Sixties and Seventies saw Eastern expanding to near ten thousand students. Later enrollment was capped and the student body size plateaued.

In the fall of ’64, I lived one block off campus (East of Old Main) in a private home, owned and occupied by a retired couple, the three-story Long residence on 9th street (Building is no longer there today, fifty years later the space has been taken up by University expansion). Upstairs rooms were occupied by the nice, clean cut guys whom we barely recognized and hardly knew. They entered by the front door and and climbed up the stairway (I never ventured there). Mr. and Mrs. Long resided on the main floor. Several of the upstairs residents went with the Longs to church and sometimes joined them for Sunday dinner.

There were four rooms in the basement. Five students there, we entered on the side door and took the dimly lit stairs to the right. Somehow we quickly became the ‘hooligans.’ We had cooking privileges with vintage appliances (fridge and stove) in an open kitchen. The two Larrys, Findlay classmate Larry and I, made a weekly visit to the IGA grocery store about five blocks away; a laundromat was closer. I remember bologna on sale at forty-nine cents a pound; combine that with a loaf of bread and some cheap cheese, a few cans of vegetables, and you had most of the meals covered for a week - - back then, we weren’t thinking about nutrition or preservatives. And we certainly were not thinking about variety.

Sometimes we of the basement crew played nickel and dime poker games into the evening (Everyone except the one upperclassman, who had a steady girlfriend and was gone most of the time). If we got a little raucous (Quiet hours after 10 p.m.), the Long’s pounded on the floor with what sounded like the handle of a broom. One night Larry (My classmate with the same first name) pounded back.

My bed was located off to the right side of the kitchen, bathroom john and shower room area. There was a curtain draw that could be used to slide and block the bed view. The john and shower were on the left, adjacent to the fridge and sink. In heavy rains, water flowed down the inside wall next to my bed and into a floor gutter that directed it to a drain. Basement rooms were only six or seven bucks a week, probably because they were not separate rooms with doors, locks, and that sort of thing; rather they were a bed and dresser located in different compartments. The one upperclassman, a junior was housed in a tiny area accessed by ducking under the large asbestos insulated furnace pipes, the furnace was near center. The other four of us were all freshman. Two guys, Glen and John from the Beecher City and Moccasin area, slept in the biggest room at the bottom of the stairs. Glenn had his ’57 Ford but the rest of us did not own a car. Larry Cross lived in a small middle room, on the north wall next to the furnace.

No televisions. A few of us had a radio. John and Glen listened mainly to country music. I listened to all types of pop tunes. Larry Cross was an avid sports fan, he tuned into the Cardinal’s games (He still does today). The basement colors were gray and more gray; concrete floor painted gray, walls gray. No doors on the rooms. Mrs. Long came to empty wastebaskets daily and on her schedule - - with little checking to see if anyone was still sleeping or dressed, or sitting on the john (Next to the shower stall, another draw curtain could be used for privacy).

As freshmen, we had our priorities in place. A cliché comes to mind: “Don’t neglect your studies while getting a college education.” Some of us ‘hooligans’ quickly focused on booze and girls, or girls and booze. Around 9 p.m. on more than one evening, we headed to the ‘snack bar’ on campus in the University Union building. At that time of night, the place was hopping with students drinking a coke or coffee, claiming that they were taking a break from their studies. That served as an excuse for our scoping of the tables and booths, checking on members of the opposite sex. It might take a few nights, but eventually you would strike up a conversation with a girl, and if things progressed in the right direction, you might walk them home to her dorm building or her off-campus house (A few girls also lived off-campus but there too, their hours were restricted - in by ten-thirty, midnight on weekends). Fifteen minutes before the curfew, when all girls had to be checked in and sequestered, you and your girl of the evening stood crammed together into the lobby area, talked and made out along with the roomful of other couples, as the guys waited to be hustled out and away. A few years later, I dated a girl whose roommate had a car, and couples ‘signed up’ for fifteen minute make-out sessions in the Dodge sedan. In that situation, we got there well before the dorm’s closing hour and had access to the parked car for two or three sessions on the same night. No one drove it, except for the owner.

A hookup at the snack bar occasionally led to a full-fledge date 'down the road.’ And since I did not have a car (Except for those times that I could borrow my older brother’s junker), a weekend date usually meant walking half-a-dozen blocks downtown to the theatre or sticking to campus activities. Fall of ’64; the folk music revival led to a few hootenannies. Those did not last long. Dance bands took their place in the Union ballroom. Pick up your date from her dorm and walk a few blocks on campus.

Our first years away from the small town roots, we were also focused on booze. My limited experience with drinking led to an interest in illegal alcohol. Underage for most of my college years, I managed to still find ways to get booze. A friend looked older than his age and could get served at one drive-up liquor store. Another friend was a upperclassmen, veteran and over twenty-one. They might buy your booze, usually with directions or restrictions; i.e., drink with them, never in your room. You could be in trouble if you came home drunk. A big societal change over the last fifty years is that today, drinking and driving is not appropriate, never to be tolerated. But in those times, getting a six-pack or a cold quart of beer and driving south of town to the Embarrass River (Pronounced Am-braw) bottoms was often standard practice. I was never the driver - - remember I didn’t own a car, could not often borrow a car. I was one of the riders and a diligent student of drinking, the classroom was on lonely back roads for a few hours while the booze was consumed. Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug.

As I gained experience with booze, I learned that I did not want to over-indulge. The few times I was with drinkers who hammered it down, got themselves ‘blotto’ and then sick was enough to cause me to limit my intake. Getting a nice buzz was the goal, but I also learned that ‘hangovers’ and throwing up were not fun. Along the way, I also learned that drinking was unlikely to be a personal problem for me. I adopted a practice of moderate drinking; a guideline that with few exceptions, I have followed in my adult life. A beer sometimes lasts me a long time; my wife is the ‘boozer’ in the family and she does not drink all that much either. But learning how to drink was part of the learning of my undergrad years.

So the fall months in ’64 sped along. I have a vivid memory of the smell of burning leaves as I walked to classes on a few cool and sometimes damp days. I remember playing football with high school classmates, Michael Cruit and Bob Younger, some of their dorm mates, and Larry Cross and I in the late afternoons outside their Douglas Hall rooms. By November, we had at least one significant snow. During that winter, a group of students went sledding one night on the hills south of town - drinking from small bottles of schnapps stuffed into snowdrifts. We slid down to the river bottoms on a rural road, six or more of us piled on to a junked car hood turned upside down.

Also by November, I noticed that my checking account was dwindling; I was going to have to get some kind of part-time job. My brother didn’t encourage me to apply where he worked, but I needed to find something. Perhaps I should look off-campus. I was getting down to my last few hundred bucks.

Years later in 1990, another drinking song came out. The first time that I heard ‘Friends in Low Places’, I was not very impressed. I didn’t know anything about Garth Brooks. I didn’t know of the family connection between his maternal grandmother and my former uncle, Joe Hedges, in my Reade-Johnson family. So much for my recognizing a soon-to-be pop hit too; much like back in ’64 when I first heard Roger Miller’s song. In a short time, I and a big section of America were singing along to the tune; it spent four weeks at the number one spot on the country music charts.

Cause I’ve got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I’ll be okay.
I’m not big on the social graces
Think I’ll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I’ve got friends in low places.’

Lesson learned: a good drinking song comes along every few decades or so.

Wednesday, March 04, 2015

What Charleston Was Like Way Back When . . . (Part 1)

Or at the very least, the way that I remember It?

Note: The first version of this article was originally posted March 4, 2015. However in the following few years, it was updated and improved several times. The size of the article increased significantly with the addition of several vintage advertisements; those changes exceeded limits for the Blogger host site. Therefore it was split into two parts.

Part 2 can be found at:

Click on image(s) to enlarge
It has been fifty years since I began working at the Ko-Op in the fall (November 1964) near the end of my first quarter of EIU classes. I lived about a block away in a basement on 9th street, and the day I applied to work at the Ko-Op was the first time I had been inside the campus hangout. I had walked by a few times, but had cooking privileges at the house I lived in and seldom ate out.

I graduated four years later (August 1968) and taught one year at Edwardsville High School (Joe Lucco of Illinois coaching fame was my principal; one of the finest administrators that I ever worked with in my career)*. I moved back to Charleston in the summer of 1969, took a teaching position with Urbana School District 216 and commuted to and from Urbana and later Champaign (Parkland College) for two decades.

Since moving away from Charleston in the fall of 1988, I’ve been back to visit several times. All three of my children grew up there and graduated from Charleston High. The two oldest completed their undergraduate degrees at Eastern; the youngest son chose Illinois State University in Bloomington. I was around town for several years and saw a lot of the changes that occurred over those five decades.

In my early college years, Charleston did not have many fast food chains. Dairy Queen was open in the warmer months (Located toward the northside of town at Division and State next to a miniature golf course); later another DQ opened near campus on Lincoln - at one time the Herb Brooks family operated both DQ businesses **.

After more than four decades of doing business in Charleston, Dog and Suds located on the east end of Lincoln Avenue (Now the site of an O'Brien Auto Parts) closed in December 2009 - it was out past the then site of the IGA Grocery.

Eventually in the Seventies, several fast food restaurants came to 'Chucktown' including Hardees, Kentucky Fried Chicken, McDonalds, Subway and others.

In the Fifties and Sixties, the three eating places close to campus were (1) Walt's, (2) Ike's Little Campus and (3) the Ko-Op (Followed by the opening of the Short-Stop in the mid-Sixties). A few months before I graduated in 1968, news came out that Ike Kennard had gotten a liquor license, and he and his sons were changing Ike's to a bar - sounded like a sound business decision and also great timing with the next few years bringing Illinois a drop of the drinking age to 18 years old (Vietnam War era - old enough to fight and die but not old enough to drink).

Pagliai’s Pizza (Pronounced Poly-eyes) had already opened by the Fall of 1964, and was located in the strip mall next to the Ford dealership, adjacent to the bowling alley (East end of Lincoln). Last time I checked, all were in the same location except the auto dealership had changed names and maybe models. Pagliai’s expanded into a Midwest chain.

Was the locally-owned (Not part of the national franchise chain) Burger King open on Lincoln Avenue by the mid-Sixties? I believe so . . . it was operated by Dale Hoots of Mattoon. Dale's brother Gene and sister-in-law, Betty, ran the Burger King in Mattoon.

Back in the day, another popular eating place for college students was the Little Venice restaurant (On one-way Sixth Street down near the town branch), where one could order an inexpensive pasta dinner and a bottle of cheap Chianti wine.

The 'Little V' closed in the Seventies, and the owner moved on to building and running a gas station on west Lincoln Avenue (Near the site of the 17 Club Bar). Also during the early Seventies, another Mattoon restaurant opened a second business location (After Burger King) in Charleston: Little Mexico on the east side of the Square.

But jumping back to the fall of 1964, Schmidt’s Drive-In was still in operation - on the southeast side of town on Hway 130 as one headed out toward the Charleston Drive-In Theater. Schmidt’s had ‘car hops’ and they were still hanging trays on car door windows. After closing for the winter one year, Schmidt’s never reopened. The drive-in theater also closed a few decades ago . . . but not before some legendary Ko-Op car-load outings there (Have memories of double-features c1967 and have never been a huge fan of Mogen David Concord Wine since. But it will get you there!).

The Ko-Op closed at 4 p.m. on Friday afternoons, reopened Sat. morning and then closed at 2 p.m. in the afternoon. Friday was also payday, and some of us dined out those evenings. Green’s Restaurant was located just off the town square (A few buildings SW on Jackson Avenue). Friday’s evening menu featured broasted chicken served with a baked or mashed potatoes and gravy, a salad, choice of vegetable (corn or green beans usually), a bread roll, and followed by Pie à la Mode (Green’s made their own ice cream?). I don’t remember when Green’s closed their doors, but they were still in business when I graduated. I believe that the last time I ate there was the night before I got married.

This is the first portion of this article; it continues at What Charleston Was Like Way Back When . . . Part 2:
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* Joe Lucco coached three legendary basketball players who all played for the U of IL in the late Fifties: Govoner Vaughn, Manny Jackson and Don Ohl. After 39 years as teacher, coach and administrator, Joe retired from Edwardsville School District and was elected to serve as an Illinois State Representative (Democrat, Dist. 56).

** Herb Brooks had worked at Walt’s with Larry Mizener, and in 1964 he was the grade school principal in Rardin. In those days, Herb often helped on Sunday mornings by taking orders and payments at the cash register. After church, customers lined up for our deep-fried chicken dinners. I recognized Herb's ‘Brooks look’ the first time, that first weekend that I worked at the Ko-Op.

Two Brooks brothers and their families lived in Findlay; their kids went to Findlay schools - - first cousins, Charlotte and David, graduated in my class. Herb was born in Moweaqua and graduated from Lovington High. He served in the Air Force during the Korean War, then returned to Charleston and EIU. He was a cousin of the Brooks families in Findlay. I later worked with Herb's younger brother, Jim Brooks, who was a music and band instructor in Urbana Schools.

Herb left Charleston Schools and worked for the University as Assistant Director and later Director of the Student Union (1966-1978). He retired from EIU in 1987 as Director of Veterans Services. By then, Herb had purchased the DQs in Charleston. Herb Brooks, age 69, died in April 2001 at his rural Charleston home. His wife, Darlene, died in Feb. 2012.