Daffodils at Lake Newport April 1968. Photo courtesy of Marilyn Trube, used with permission.
I will be spending today much like we spent the Saturday before Easter when I was growing up in Youngstown. The Saturday before Easter was the time we cleaned the house top to bottom, particularly if we were having guests–dusting, vacuuming, cleaning our rooms, washing all our good dishes for the Easter dinner. If the weather permitted, we were out cleaning up the yard from the winter debris of leaves and branches. And dad would be out washing the car. You couldn’t go to church all dressed up for Easter in a dirty car. Dad would wash, wax, and polish up the chrome (yes, real chrome) from the pitting of winter. As a kid, I get assigned to washing the wheel covers and scrubbing the white wall tires.
Easter was the time when I got a new set of clothes for church, mostly because I’d outgrown the old ones. That meant a new shirt and slacks, and a new sport jacket. We dressed for church. I remember the parents saying you wanted to look your best for God. (As I got older I have to admit that I was often far more interested in looking good for the girls in church!) Women bought new hats and the girls new bonnets as well as Easter dresses.
At the end of the day, the clothes were laid out and it was time for the Saturday night bath before going to bed. With all that work, I usually left a good ring on the tub which I had to scrub after I had scrubbed me!. I was asleep from the moment my head hit the pillow, looking forward to that Easter basket I knew would be waiting in the morning when I woke up.
Easter morning I raced down the steps along with my sister to get into that Easter basket. Jelly beans, chocolate Easter bunnies, sugary Easter eggs, Peeps and more are what I remember. Then there was breakfast, which might include one of those hard-boiled Easter eggs we had dyed. In my wife’s family, they would eat the basket of eggs, kolachi, and ham they had taken to church on Saturday to be blessed.
Then it was upstairs to change and to pile into the car and leave early for church. There would always be a lot of people at services and mom always wanted to get there early to get seated in our usual seats. Easter just wouldn’t be right otherwise!
When I was older our youth group sometimes got up early and met up to go to a sunrise service. What I always remembered about Easter services was the joyous music and the back and forth of “He is risen” and “He is risen indeed!”
After services or Easter mass, it was often the time families would go out to the east side of Lake Newport where daffodils grew along the banks of the lake. We’d often take family pictures of all of us in our Easter best in the midst of nature’s glorious finery.
In our family there would often be an Easter dinner either at our grandparents home or our home with the requisite ham, and sweet potatoes, and green bean casserole, deviled eggs or pickled eggs, kolachi and more. Somehow those Easter clothes fit a bit more snugly than in the morning. Of course, dipping into those Easter baskets whenever we could didn’t help!
You always hoped for a sunny day. It often seemed like spring had finally arrived. Flowers were starting to bloom, the grass was starting to green up, there were the hints of new life everywhere. It just seemed to fit that this was the time we celebrated the risen Christ. Everything else was coming to life as well. The dead of winter was past, spring was here and summer (and the end of another school year) was just around the color. A day to celebrate indeed!
Want to read more “Growing up in Working Class Youngstown” posts? You can find all of them by going to my home page and clicking “On Youngstown” under categories.