It's hard to imagine now when driving through town that Seaton was, when I was growing up, a far more vibrant and alive village. Back when we were kids the place had a bank, grocery store, restaurant, gas station, hardware store, veterinary, whatever Smarjasse's place was, indoor post office, fire station, church, grain elevator, lumber yard, school and a car mechanic. I don't know what the Mole Man did, but he was always squatting in front of his place, too. Today it has a church and a restaurant that remain. Everything else is gone.
Herb was a member of a Masonic lodge. It was always very mysterious, very secret, and while I'm not sure he enjoyed it all, he nevertheless was a member and went from its lowliest standing up toward its highest. I imagine he did this because he was a businessman and it may have been expected. I recall there was a lot of memorizing that he would do before meetings, and once he had to buy a fedora-type hat like Frank Sinatra wore. I was asked to join once while I was in college and I'm sure their numbers were dwindling. I didn't join and never regretted it.
The people pictured above are the some who populated my town and were part of my growing up. I knew most of them, but not all. For instance, the first guy, top left, Bill Tracy, I know nothing about. But the next guy, Dan Sims, owned the grocery store. I went to school with his kid, Tom. Nice guy. Knew his dad, too, Frazier. Marj always said he had halitosis.
The next guy is Dick Carson, a farmer, and apparently head honcho during this 1964-1965 photo session. His kid played church league softball with us and Dick always teased me first when Uncle Ed and I would go into town for lunch at the café. Next to him is Ernie Donaldson. I didn't know him too well, but he lived nearby and Marj would call his wife, Elmarine, to get the scoop on what was going on in town. His wife was the writer who wrote all the Seaton news for the newspaper in Aledo.
Jim Chism was the hardware guy. Soft spoken, he seemed to do a lot of master-of-ceremony stuff when it was called for around town. His kid was also in our class and he took up his Dad's profession when he grew up.
The second row, first guy, is Bill Greer. He built a house across the street from us. He worked down at the bank with John Seaton. He'd don a raincoat and go out and wash his cars using God's water instead of his own. Bill was also the guy to lower the road-kill badger from the bank flagpole we put up with a Seaton Bank check in its paw. My dad and Bill had an ongoing decades long weekly wager with the Bears, with my dad betting against them.
Across the way is Squire Greer, Bill's dad. He worked at the bank, too. He and his wife Lois built the first modular house in town. Came in on a semi truck and was done in a couple days. It's still there. One night we were all in a group, all us kids, and someone got me to go up and ring their back door bell. Corn grew nearby so we could go up ring it, and then dodge into the corn. Apparently I did this more than once, got caught, and I had to apologize to her the next day. She still scares me in my dreams.
Lower left side is John Curry. He was the road commissioner and had a kid Brian. When I was Uncle Ed's hired man, Brian was Jim Bertelsen's hired guy. We'd meet every so often throughout the summers and tried to start a hired man union for higher wages. It failed. Brian also helped with the Peace Sign that we painted on the blacktop one summer.
Then we have my dad, and next to him is some Waugh. Didn't know him at all, but his wife died in a car accident going to the fair one summer. Next to him, S.E. Cofer is someone I don't know at all. And finally, Jack Bertelsen. His dad, Andy, died in a fire at home when we were kids and our parents would throw us all in the car and we'd chase the firetruck. Dad was a volunteer fireman so he'd need to be there and it provided Marj and us boys some entertainment. There were a lot of fire chasers in town. It most certainly wasn't entertaining that day to see old man Bertelsen lying on the ground. He lasted a few days in the hospital and then mercifully died. Jack himself died young of a heart attack.
Bill Greer and Dick Carson are still alive, the rest are gone. There is no longer a Masonic lodge, having merged with Aledo many years ago.
There is an inter-connectedness with being a kid and the people around us that we keep all our lives. The faces that we keep with us from childhood seem to stay. Maybe because they formed the foundation of all that would come after. Maybe, just maybe, they will forever be a keyhole that takes us back.
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