The latest memory jogger posted on Facebook was a skate key. (Thanks, Liz.)
Back in the day, we would strap heavy, clunky skates on our shoes and tighten the skates with the key. We then wore the key around our neck on a piece of gimp.
I was never coordinated and fell on a regular basis, often running down the hill to meet my father. But for some reason, I could roller skate, at least on sidewalks. Although I did sometimes go to the roller rink, I was at my best in the open air.
Living as I did in a hilly area, and one without sidewalks, we would go up to Fulton Street, which was flat , and roller skate , either on the school blacktop or the sidewalk. I can still see and hear Mrs. English who would come out on her porch and yell at us for making too much noise. Really, I don’t blame her. Those skates were not at all quiet, and also we would shout to one another as we flew by.
No one else knew this, but I would sing hymns to myself because I thought that kept me from falling down! Luckily I knew lots and lots of hymns as we would roller skate for hours.
© Dorothy C. Judd
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