MY FIRST MEMORY

As the tongue slurped my face, I happily squirmed and reached up to grip the floppy ear of the black and white Cocker Spaniel. The dog’s tail wagged happily as if I was one of her litter. I could only focus on the shiny, black nose, unable to see the fig leaves behind Cleo, the dog. She had a brown and white sister and a black, brown and white brother, neither of which paid attention to me, the baby in the bassinet.

THE BIG RED LION

Late at night, I could perch on the bed and look out the window to the east. A bright neon blue cross slowly turned over some kind of church. I wondered who went there and what type of people they were. If I went out onto the porch, I could enjoy gazing at the blazing red lion of the Bekins Van and Storage sign on Pico and Normandie.

CHILDREN'S MOVIES

On Saturday mornings, with some change in my pocket, I caught the Number 9 streetcar down Pico to a huge movie theater with live entertainment followed by Disney and Looney Tunes cartoons and great movies by Tom Mix, Red Ryder, Roy and Dale and, of course, Flash Gordon. There was also a live show with feed from somewhere, sponsored by Buster Brown Shoes, with as well as Buster Brown and his dog Tige, a Boston Terrier advertising the shoe line. “Smilin' Ed would say the words, “Froggy plunk your Magic Twanger echoed by hundreds of young voices.

The movie theater was the type long gone. On the façade were colorful posters for upcoming movies -- amazing adventures just waiting to be shared for a nickel. Once inside the large swinging door, one encountered a large foyer with highly-polished wooden floors. To one side was the refreshment stand, exuding the delicious aroma of buttered, fresh popcorn. There was a soda fountain and endless arrays of candies. With one’s armed filled, we proceeded past tall brass stanchions with red velvet ropes to a man who checked and notched our tickets.

A roof towered more than three stories high, walls of rich wood and high, vaulted ceilings. We moved down to the front rows near the orchestra pit where someone played a real pipe organ. The balcony was separated into two sections. For real movies, the lower section was absolutely the best place to see from.

EARLY RADIO

And then there was radio. Listening in the living room or in the solitude of my room, I was enraptured by the likes of Red Skelton, Abbott and Costello, Jack Benny, Bob Hope, and Truth or Consequences. The big console in the living room not only had a huge stack of records but stations that brought Big Band sounds and singers like Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Perry Como and many, many more. In a dark room, the creaking door sent chills down my spine as Inner Sanctum Mysteries started and listened with bated breath until the creak came one again, the heavy sound of closing announcing the end -- until the next time. I’ll never forget Duffy’s Tavern or People are Funny.

FRESH PRODUCE

The famous Farmer’s Market only worked because the area south of downtown to the harbor was farmland. So was the San Fernando Valley. The area around Downey and Bell Flower was also filled with dairies. At one time, Mom and Dad tried a small restaurant in the western area and would go to the Farmer’s Market regularly to buy produce. It was a fun place to go.

The area south of downtown Los Angeles to Long Beach was cultivated farmland during the forties and fifties. I remember going with my parents to a place called Auction City where there were a number of big tents in which all sorts of things were auctioned. In addition, there were also a large number of dairies in the area.

DEAF DALMATIAN

We had a deaf Dalmatian trained to follow movements. Thump on the floor to have her come. She also followed hand signals. Palm down to stop. Wave towards you to come. I remember taking her for a walk one time with a friend. She didn’t need a leash and always walked at my side. When we reached an intersection, I’d make the stop motion and she’d sit on the curb. I was to walk to the middle of the street to ensure it was clear and them motion for her to come. This particular time, I had her stop at the curb and went into the street. My friend and I talked so intensely that I forgot the dog. We walked two more blocks before I realized what’d happened. She refused to move until I walked all the way back to the street, went into the middle to check both ways for traffic, then waved her to come. I never made that mistake again.

FIRST VISIT TO LAS VEGAS

I belonged to a Boy Scout Troop in Wilshire Ward of the LDS troop and our troop leader learned of the first a-bomb tests to be conducted outside of Las Vegas. We drove there in a bus owned by the church. I remember stopping at a one-story motel alongside the highway before we got to the Flamingo hotel. I keep thinking it was called the Hacienda but that may not be true. I do know that we had to wait a long time as a large herd of goats was being driven across the highway to a large pasture behind the hotel. We went inside to eat and it seemed to be in the thirty-nine cents range for an all-you-could-eat buffet. I remember seeing a couple of slot machines and two or three gaming tables.

From there, we drove to the parking lot of the Hotel Last Frontier. It was late in the evening but there were also several other vehicles parked in the back portion of the unpaved area. The street on the south side of the hotel was also unpaved. We were awakened very early the next morning and got out of the bus, gathering in an area with a clear view to the northwest. It was still dark with no moon and, even with the neon lights of the hotel, the stars seemed bight enough to reach out and touch.

The night disappeared as a ball of light filled the far horizon, silhouetting a range of mountains far away. Then, the ground shook like a minor earthquake. We held our breaths and counted as we did when a bolt of lightning struck. A-one, A-two and so on until we counted to sixty-five, telling us that was how far away the bomb had exploded. A cloud rose, formed like a giant mushroom, boiling and filled with awesome sun colors and ebony black.

When the sun rose, revealing the towering cloud, most gathered up their things, many going inside the hotel to each a breakfast as cheap as at the other we’d stopped at. As we went inside, I remember seeing a number of people busily pulling the handles of One-Armed Bandits.

The first A-bomb test called Abel was conducted in Jan 1951, a 5 kiloton bomb set off at Frenchman’s Flat about 70 miles north of Las Vegas. There was another the next day called Baker at 8 kilotons, but we didn‘t sty around for it.

In later years, I passed through Las Vegas and watched it grow. One of the things I remember is the sale of souvenirs for The Atomic City, all sorts of knickknacks with pictures of Strip Hotels with a towering mushroom behind them.