The rule was that NO ONE was allowed to cross the street. Under any circumstances.
In 1956, I crossed the street to go to the Eisenhower campaign headquarters. It was located in a house right beside the Goshen Dairy. I had found out they were giving away free campaign buttons. They gave me one; it had a little metal tab you folded down to pinch on to your shirt. Then I found what I really wanted. There, under glass in a display case with stickers and other campaign stuff was the most beautiful pin I'd ever seen! IKE spelled out in RW&B rhinestones! I was spellbound with it and it wasn't free or cheap, I think it was $3.00! So much money! I remember the ladies telling me to go home when I hung there too long.
Another incident when I crossed the street was after a summer storm. My parents had left to run some errands. My friend Becky and I were playing in my yard when we heard sirens! Sirens in my town were something not often heard and always reason for possible excitement. Becky and I could clearly hear them very close by. We couldn't resist and crossed 3rd street and continued down Ashwood Lane. We saw nothing on 4th St. So we crossed it and headed down to 5th. I could see people ahead and with excitement we ran up the alley toward what now we could see were fire trucks, police cars and lots of people.
The problem was a tree limb had fallen and taken an electric line with it. The wire was live and was sparking and dancing around right at the opening of the alley and 5th St. No one was near it-except us. The crowd watched as a fireman walked toward us keeping a safe distance from the wire. Then I saw them. My parents were standing in the crowd. I was totally busted. I knew where I was supposed to be, and it wasn't there. I started to cry and every one thought it was because I was hurt. The fireman asked me if I was ok and nodded yes. He took my hand and led us safely away. My parents confiscated me. Looking back, I realized they both had fear in their eyes and weren't thinking about scolding me.
And finally my favorite experience associated with crossing the street. I mentioned that we lived very close to the Goshen Dairy? It was a wonderful place. Ice cream cones were 5¢ for one scoop, 10¢ for 2 scoops. High up on a shelf on the back wall behind the counter were two giant fake ice cream cones. I think one had one scoop of vanilla with a chocolate scoop on top. The other one was identical but I think with vanilla and strawberry. My favorites-chocolate, chocolate ripple, butterscotch ripple, White House, and raspberry, orange, or pineapple sherbert. I spell it like we pronounced it. Sherbert.
Anyway, this dairy delivered milk. All day long the horse pulled yellow wagons that said Goshen Dairy on the sides. The horses lived behind the dairy. Their stalls were right off the alley and as you walked by, sometimes you'd see a horse or two standing in there.
Well, one day I had again crossed the street and walked up the alley to see the horses. There were little kittens playing in the hay. Even today, a sight like that will bring me to a screeching stop. And so it did that day. I walked into the corner of that barn, sat in the hay and pulled kittens into my lap. I held kittens all day. I held them as they slept, tried to play, played with my fingers, met their mother and petted her. I held each one as tenderly as I could and carefully put them all to sleep. I held them and held them and held them.
I wasn't allowed to hold cats. I was allergic to a lot of things back then. I'd never held one in my life, but that day I more than made for any shortage I might have felt. Finally a man spotted me and told me to leave. Even at that age I knew I was some place I wasn't really supposed to be, and I left wheezing. But it was worth it.
