By Paula Crites Pieri

Some people think we are making things up when we talk about how wonderful things were in the 50s and early 60s.  I have never talked to anyone who grew up during that time that ever said anything bad about it. So as I scan the paper, and watch TV News, and see what a terrible shape the world is in today, I thought I would write a little about what it was like growing up in the 40s, 50s and 60s and how different it was then than it is today. Some things are better now, Women’s Rights, race relations, medicine-we have nicer houses, and bigger and better “things”. However the essence, the quality, the honesty and the simple pleasure of our life during the 50s is so hard to explain…but I will try. 

Growing up in a small West Texas town may not seem very exciting; however, I had such wonderful memories of my childhood that I just had to write them down, before they are forgotten. Midland was a small town then and we knew most everyone. Many of the friends I made then are the friends I have today.    

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By Paula Crites Pieri

I went to North Elementary and remember it fondly. We used to walk to school every day gathering a little group of friends as we walked along. I still remember those kids and can recognize them in our 3^rd grade Rhythm Band photo. When I was in the 5th grade, I was playing Deep Roving Right Field, hoping no one would hit a ball my way, when I met a little girl, Emily Stall, who had just transferred from West Elementary. She was to become my best friend and still is today. She lived on the corner of A Street and Club House Drive, just across from the Country Club, then the Elks Club, now the park with the lake. Most of our calls ended with “Meet me at the corner I have something to tell you” and I would run down the alley and we would meet halfway. She introduced me to the world of bossy big sisters and snoopy little brothers.

I went to Cowden in Jr. High. The “cut off” for Cowden and the new school, San Jacinto, was Cuthbert, the street behind Storey. All my friends went to San Jacinto and I went to Cowden. I didn’t really enjoy Cowden, since I didn’t know that many people. Thank goodness there was High School.

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By Paula Crites Pieri

I always loved horses and was so excited every year when World Championship Rodeo would come to town. The Rodeo parade was a highlight. We would sit on the fence on A Street and watch all the cowboys and floats go by. Some of the MHS band played at the rodeo, and my boyfriend played the base drum in the band. Fortunately, it was a large instrument, because I would sneak in every night, under the drum, so I would get in for free. I would sit on the rail and watch the whole rodeo –up close and personal. One time, it got a little too personal. One of the grand entry people came up and asked if I could ride, and I said yes. First of all, I had read every horse book and rented horses every year in Ruidoso, and, in my head, I thought I could ride. It became apparent, immediately, that thinking and reading and dreaming about horses does not make a good rider. I did get through the whole grand entry, probably with a look of sheer terror on my face, while galloping around in the arena. Fortunately I didn’t fall off and learned a very valuable lesson. DO NOT volunteer to do something unless you are VERY sure you know how to do it.

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