Growing Up Wallace,Memories of the way we were- and anything else that crosses my mind.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

I Am A Little Upset. Is Nothing Sacred Anymore?

Maybe I spend a little too much time trying to connect my past with who I am today. Since returning to my homeland in The Silver Valley, I have been playing "connect the dots" in order to facilitate my unending quest for the missing pieces. I have spent countless hours driving around Wallace to see what was and what is left. I drive by old buildings, my old home on Cedar Street, the site of where the hospital stood where I came into this world, and the site of my old grade school, junior high school, and high school. There is not much left except for the ghosts of days long gone.

I don't know any of the people who are on the street corners. I used to know everyone. I don't recognize the names of the businesses anymore. How can multiple generations of things just be gone? Who gave the new people the right to change things? I am sure that many of the people who live now in Wallace don't even know what mining was all about.

However, the real kicker came last Saturday when my wife and I were driving around Wallace and I saw I sign that made me screech the car to a halt and quickly drive around the block again.
My wife asked me what was wrong, and I replied tersely that I thought I had seen something, but I could not believe that it could be true, so I wanted to see it again.

But, there it was, a sandwich board on the sidewalk in front of the old Cornell-Ward Funeral Home that said "Parlor Antiques" This had to be some kind of sick joke. I didn't know for sure that the old funeral home was gone, although I had suspected it might be relegated to only part-time use. But the idea of turning on old funeral home into a tourist trap was beyond any sense of
respect for those lives that ended their earthly journey with a stop at the funeral home.

What a slap in the face to families who had said their farewells to dear family members at that place! What a slap in the face to those who had grieved there ! Have we degenerated so much that nothing is sacred anymore? I guess everything is for sale now days, even the memories of those who made this Valley what is was with blood, sweat, and tears, and then went to their final destination. "Parlor Antiques"?

Wallace is full of nothing but antiques stores now. I personally think that they are "junk stores" instead of antiques, but what do I know? So, we sell our past, and it is being sold by people who are new to Wallace. They know nothing of life in a mining town, and yet they want to capitalize on it's history. I will bet most of them have contempt for mining. After all, weren't miners just dirty, uneducated men who knew nothing but bars and cat houses?

My past is not for sale, and especially not in a degrading business called "Parlor Antiques"


MarmiteToasty said...

Its called progress and no matter how much we want/need to keep places and certain people in a certain 'time zone' its never gonna happen.... its very sad, I to last year drove around all the places where I grew up trying to find something to connect with.... most had changed.... but some will remain the same forever..... like the old Ship Inn Pub that nestled on the shoreline at Hayling Point which looks across the harbour opening and across to Milton Locks where I was born.... I sat there with me lads telling them the stories of their Grandad when he was younger would swim across this little channel and how me mum and dad had a tiny little bungalow across the water which was right on the shoreline with old houseboats sitting in the water infront.... and how at high tide the little garden would flood and how my birth was toasted in The Old House At Home Pub next door.... a time I was to young to remember, only the times my parents would take me and me sibling back there to visit people once they had moved away.... a time and a place when I think my parents were their happiest.... before everything changes and they changed into evil bad people....

I also went and stood outside of the house where I had grown up.....between 2-14.... the house was on a well rough council estate and seemed big when I was a child... but as I stood there and looked over the hedge, I had so many many memories come flooding back..... the woman came out of the house to see who this weirdo staring person was and I told her I use to live here 35 years ago.... so much had changed, yet so much remained the same.... the little window that was my bedroom window where me and me brother would climb out of at night to escape the abuse that lay within the house.... the street light at the end of the little dead end close where at each crimbo time, a father from number 6 would climb up a ladder and change the street light bulb for a coloured bulb for crimbo..... so many many memories.... they are whirling around me head now lol....

Its called progress..... I call it new memories and history in the making....

sorry...... to much waffling lol


Cedar Street Kid said...

Hey, Marmitetoasty, great to hear from you! Yes, today is a new gernation's future history, and life goes on.They will have their own version of Wallace, and someday they will say to their kids"Rememeber when that old building was an antique store?" Progress-yep-maybe

Inland Empire Girl said...

I have certainly toured the "Antique Lane", but missed the parlor one. I do remember well when it was a funeral home. For those of us that lived so far away in Kellogg it was a "journey" for our parents to drive to Wallace to get a driver's license of take us to the dentist. I did love Morrows and Cams.

Cedar Street Kid said...

hey IEG, the parlor just opened last week. Ah yes, Morrows, I worked there all through high school as a janitor and a clerk in the summer.