The Hottest Summer I Can Ever Recall
The hottest summer I can ever recall will date me somewhat, but as a child, we did not have the luxury or comfort of air conditioning, so every summer was wicked hot. We had no A/C in our homes, churches, cars, or anywhere. We lived in a two-story home with my bedroom upstairs. Surrounded by massive shade trees with screens in every window, we were well-equipped with all sorts of fans to keep the air circulating. The crown jewel, however, was the huge window fan that Daddy bought at Sears, Roebuck®. It was firmly mounted in my bedroom window, and the blades could be rotated to face outside or inside as the need arose. Every summer night, I fell asleep to the drone of the huge fan sucking air from downstairs and out the window into the night. It was cool enough to warrant a blanket and noisy enough to serenade me into peaceful pre-adulthood slumber.
We had a huge brick barbeque pit on the backyard patio, and in order to not heat up the kitchen by cooking inside, we grilled as much as we could outside. Mama liked to sometimes conjure up a cold plate for us consisting of salads, boiled eggs, cold cuts, cheese, and fruit, accompanied by a healthy serving of sweet iced tea in colorful aluminum tumblers that chilled our hands and bodies. We eagerly ate whatever was served with no complaints.
On Sunday, we attended 9 o’clock Mass as a family. Dressed appropriately in a starched crinoline petticoat or my Vanity Fair ® slip beneath my dress, I wore the mandatory stockings, gloves, and hat with matching Coro® jewelry and a corsage from Daddy every Easter. Because we fasted from midnight, and the church was stifling hot, women constantly fanned themselves and loved ones with cardboard fans. The ushers were busy reviving those who fainted during every Mass, and unfortunately, I was among those prone on the floor on more than one occasion. Mama tucked a bottle of smelling salts in my purse to ward off such mishaps, but that did not always work.
Our annual vacation to Daytona Beach was always initiated at night. My brother and I would sleep most of the journey so we would escape the heat of the day. Mama always bought herself and me some weird hats to keep our hair from blowing from the constant wind coming in the rolled-down car windows. I personally would have preferred windblown tresses to those stupid hats, but Mama insisted on them. Daddy smoked when he was driving, so the ashes from his cigarettes would become airborne from the driver’s seat right into the back window toward us. It was a challenge to hastily crank up the window to avert a major disaster. Upon arrival at our destination, the cool ocean breezes were always welcomed, and enjoyed for seven glorious beach days.
Summer days at home were spent going to nearby swimming pools with our friends and showing off our new Catalina® or Rose Marie Reid® one-piece bathing suits, complete with coordinating beach towels and bathing caps. Occasionally, we would venture with a parent to nearby Franklin where Willow Plunge with its spring-fed cold water was always a nice escape from the summer’s unrelenting heat.
The latest heat wave to envelope our nation is breaking all-time records for the hottest summer ever, and I am ever grateful for the invention of air conditioning. I no longer have to keep smelling salts in my purse when I go to church on Sunday.
Mary Margaret Lambert’s book, “Life Is Too Short To Wear Beige” can be purchased from her website marymargaretlambert.com, or from St. Mary’s Bookstore in Nashville, Tennessee.