LIFE SAVING PEANUT BUTTER

My Mother came to America after World War II. She'd married my Dad when he was serving in the Military in Great Britain. Love at first sight. He "popped the question" in less than 10 days.

Things were different with emigration after the war. With tons of paperwork & sponsors needed, it took almost a year for my Mother to make it over to the U.S. & join my Dad. The borders were a bit tighter back then.

In 1953 my Mother took me to England; to show me to the family & probably to cure a bit of homesickness on her part. We were there for two months. Dad got to stay home & work.

My friend Kelly sent me an e-mail recently titled "Older Than Dirt". It listed a lot of things from ..."way back then" ... which if you recognized, you scored points. The winning score -- for knowing things like home delivery of milk, ice boxes, (which my family had) & phone party lines, etc. -- made you "Older than Dirt".

Our trip to England certainly had methods of transportation which would probably make that "dirt" questioner. My Mom & I took the train from Rochester, New York to New York City. It was a steam engine train. The train had to make stops in such cites as Syracuse & Albany, not only for passengers, but to take on water for the engine, since it ran on steam from coal.

From New York City to Great Britain we went by boat -- H.M.S. Queen Elizabeth. Think Titanic. We even saw some ice flows in the upper Atlantic Ocean.

The trip took a week to complete. Today the same distance would be covered by plane in eight to 10 hours. Back then, in the "dirt days", flying was for the wealthy & it was not the method of travel it has become.

When we arrived in Watford, England, I was treated like a movie star. The local news paper came to interview my Mother, the returning British girl, & former G.I. War Bride, bringing her "American son" back "home". We had our family picture on the front page of the newspaper, & I was featured as the "Little Cowboy" from the United States, due to my blue jeans with small guns & bullets embroidered on the pockets.

I had a good time my two months in England. I played a lot with my young Uncles & did things like going to the movies, having "ice lollies" (Popsicles) & playing at the bomb shelters. Yes, this was post-war & there were all sorts of aspects of the fighting & destruction still visible. Many areas & buildings were in rubble & vast areas had not yet been cleared.

One thing I did not care for in Great Britain was the food. Really strange stuff they ate. Plus, I was a VERY fussy eater -- the type told to sit at the dining table until the carrots were eaten. Never did eat them.

This is were my Mother was really prepared. She knew me well. She wasn't going to let "Cowboy Billy" starve.

For the trip, my Mother packed TWO five-pound CANS of Peter Pan Peanut Butter. [Metal cans with a key attached to the bottom. The key was then used to unwind the lid from the cans. (More "dirt stuff".)] I survived on P.B.&J.'s. I think I did finish off both cans before we made our return trip -- again by boat -- to America.

I still love my peanut butter. There are currently two jars -- big ones, not in metal cans, from Sam's Club -- in the pantry. Now I buy Jiff Peanut Butter.

Sorry Peter Pan. But, thanks for saving my life.