Walking home

On a dark night, sounds, perceived shadows, traumatic stories dictate the imaginations of the young. It was no different for me. Going home took a lot of thought. I would leave the restaurant and head north on "main" street. At the Vissering's corner, I would turn east on Sixth to Kents Lumber and Coal. My journey continued north. Oak was a dark and foreboding street. The art of whistling was now a necessary skill. Whistling had a strategy. On Oak, the strategy was to whistle to warn others you were coming up the street. Lights were scarce but there was one at the corner of Seventh and Oak. The bulb shined a ten-foot diameter beam to the ground. Step outside the beam and you were in the dark. As one walked away, the light became a fading beacon. In the 1940's people were still awed with the light bulb. Research to develop brighter bulbs and reflective globes was just beginning. Consequently, Minonk was still a dark town. Downtown had lights every 30 to 40 feet. Residential streets generally had lights only at the end of the block. There were few alley lights.

Upon reaching the alley between Locust and Oak, the journey was half over-the longest half in distance but, the shortest half in frights. Each foot was dragged over the crossing so that a raised board or rail would not catch your shoe and plummet you to the ground. Then down the railroad bank into the heart of the alley.

Here the strategy of whistling changed. It was dark and being quiet so no one knew you were on your way was paramount. On the west side of the alley there were out buildings-cob and coal sheds, a privy, an unused garage, and other places of dark sanctuary for the unknown. You would proceed down the alley along the east side to stay away from the dark abodes. But, on the east side there were obstacles-burn barrels and trash heaps.