A nostalgic look at childhood in the '50s. (Country neighbors).

Growing up in the '50s in Cleveland, Ohio, you'd never know we didn't live in the country. My parents always kept a big vegetable garden and our yard was a shady oasis with two bountiful plum trees, a cherry tree, a peach tree and grape vines. Every other year, the plum trees bore their fruit and we supplied the neighbors with bagfuls of sweet black plums. My mother made plum and grape preserves. My best pal, Rita, and I would climb up into the trees and gorge on plums all afternoon in the summer.

My father worked like all the other dads, yet no one seemed to work overtime in those days, and they still made ends meet. Nobody had credit cards. Items were not purchased until the money for them was saved--what a concept! Dad always had ample time on weekends and evenings to make sauerkraut in his big crocks; grind his own Polish sausage with his handgrinder; make home brew and do wood projects. He was also an amateur artist and photographer.

Meanwhile, our mother sewed many of our clothes and baked her fabulous bread. Grandma would sit at the kitchen table, mixing the dough for her delicious Polish kluski dumplings. Meanwhile, Mom simmered a big pot of chicken soup. The moms were all home in those days. I realize that many women now have no choice but to work outside the home. But what a pleasure it was back then, to be greeted by Mom at 3:00 p.m. after school, and offered an apple or fresh baked cookie. She listened to our classroom stories with the love and compassion no babysitter could offer.

There was very little surplus cash, yet life seemed rich. We knew every family on our block: the Witz's, the Harbers, the Dudsacks, and the Mannings--and they were good friends, not just "hello there" neighbors. I might come home from school on my birthday and find that my mother had redecorated my bedroom with new curtains and a spread--all handmade, and very inexpensive. One year, a neighbor lady sewed a whole wardrobe of new clothes for my favorite doll. Much love and time were involved in these sweet gifts, and very little money.

If she wanted flowers for a special occasion, Mom sent me over to the neighbors--a kindly German couple who grew a magnificent garden of roses, hyacinths, daffodils, and lilacs. (We had never heard of a florist shop!) Mr. Leitold would take his pruning shears and cut a giant bouquet of mixed blooms and wrap them in newspapers. Sometimes gentle Mrs. Leitold took me past the grandfather clock, into her old-fashioned kitchen with all the crocks, and hand me a sugar cookie.

Nobody had money for store-bought extras, so at every social event--and they were frequent--women brought large trays of their homemade specialties: oven baked chicken, fudge, or big bowls of homemade potato salad or stuffed cabbage. On picnics, the men would roast juicy burgers and big pans of corn in milk. Of course, there would be the huge thick slices of August tomatoes and cucumbers, followed by at least four or five plates of desserts! (And nobody had heard of "low-fat.")

A "treat" was a seven-cent popsicle or a 10-cent ice cream cone, not a $3,000 trip to Disneyworld. A "game" of endless enjoyment could be jump rope (with an old clothes line), tag, kickball, or exploring the nearby woods, not an expensive video game or a new computer trick. A major summertime activity was reading. We all had library cards, and lamented that only four books could be checked out at one time. We didn't have to depend on 500 cable channels to keep us occupied. In fact, our family was one of the first on the block to purchase a television back in 1954, and my friends and I had much more fun with the giant box that it came in!

And this was city living.

Now, four decades later, it's hard for me not to feel disheartened living in a city of three million people in southern California. A city infested with cell phones, traffic, speed and anonymity. Maybe that's why I decided to check out the Earth Day celebration in Balboa Park. It was a sunny, gorgeous spring day, and I arrived to find scores of booths set up throughout the park, manned by smiling volunteers in big sun hats. The event began with an "Alternative Vehicle Parade," followed by a delightful "Children's Earth Parade," featuring kids costumed as trees. Promoters of the event encouraged visitors to walk, ride bikes or take public transportation to attend Earth Day.

There was a solar house displayed with plenty of info on solar panels, the San Diego Water Authority with flower magnets, brochures on water conservation; the Feral Cat Coalition; the California Wolf Center, which has a wolf preserve in a tiny mountain town nearby; the Peace Resource Center; the Ocean Beach People's Organic Food Co-op, passing out bumper stickers to celebrate the opening of their new co-op; the Buddhists from nearby Deer Park Monastery; and over 100 other booths. The school childrens' presence was the most touching of all, as they celebrated the Earth with banners and displays promoting the love of nature and sustainability.

Seeing all the hard work and dedicated volunteers warmed my heart, and made me feel a glimmer of hope in these difficult times where violence and rampant consumerism often take center stage.

My husband and I do our best to live simply here in the city. We have very few of the modern contraptions that many claim to need. No microwave, no computer, no cell phone. We don't listen to the radio or watch tv. We keep a garden, but also support our small organic produce shop, which buys from local small farmers. We hang our clothes out to dry, and we don't use heat in winter. And, of course, I read the inspiring stories in COUNTRYSIDE, which always keep me on the right track.

PHYLLIS GAEBELEIN
5125 35TH ST.
SAN DIEGO, CA 92116