Page 56 - 2019junejuly

My Record Collection

by Susan J. Decuir
Mom loved music. While doing her household chores, she
was sure to have her beautiful old-fashioned, upright Walnut
radio (squeezed between the wall and dining room table in our Checker’s “The Twist,” and spin,
modest North Dallas Home) tuned to the popular music of the twirl and jive to “The Mashed Potato,” “The Loco-motion,” and
50s and 60s. Those songs had a great impact on me with lyrics “The Swim.”
that spoke to my tender teenage heart.
If you’re from my generation, songs like In junior high school, I joined
the Jimmy Clanton (of “Venus in
Bobby Vinton’s “Blue on Blue” or Paul Blue Jeans” and “Just a Dream”
Anka’s “Put Your Head on My Shoulder” fame) fan club with my girlfriend:
or one of Brenda Lee’s sad songs—“All fan club pin with his picture on it,
Alone Am I” or “I’m Sorry,” you can certificate, and all. When we heard
probably hear the words playing in your that he was coming to Dallas for a
head about now. concert, we waited for his plane to
Young girls swooned over their favorite arrive at Dallas Love Field Airport
artists like Elvis Presley, Bobby Vee, the to meet him and get his autograph.
Everly Brothers, and Frankie Avalon. Twenty or so years ago, my
Ricky Nelson became my heartthrob when husband and I heard that Jimmy
he started singing his songs on his family’s was going to speak at a local
popular television series, “Ozzie and church and we went to hear him.
Harriet.” But I didn’t get to see Ricky in Afterward we visited with him and
person until the late 70s when a friend took I showed him my Jimmy Clanton
me to see him perform at a dinner theater in fan club pin. His face lighted up
Dallas. Wish I would have taken pictures. then humbly asked, “Would you
When my two brothers and I (ages ten, eleven and twelve) mind parting with your pin? I would love to give it to one of my
started asking Mom and Dad for our own spending money at children.” Of course, I did. I was thrilled to know that he turned
around the same time, Dad taught us a valuable lesson: Money out to be such a wholesome, Christian family loving man. But I
was something you earned. still have his autograph.
Soon after that teaching session, the dreaded “Chore Chart,” I still enjoy the music from the 50s and 60s, and I am thankful
hand-crafted by our ingenious, fun-loving, best ever Dad, that Mom was able to rescue most of my record collection from
appeared on the kitchen wall. her lake house fire in the 70s. Every now and then I reminisce
If you received a checkmark beside all of your daily chores by taking out my collection and placing a record on the retro,
at the end of the week, you would find a shiny quarter tucked old-fashioned turntable that my husband and I gave Mom for
inside your slot, cleverly fashioned by Dad at the bottom of the Christmas a decade or more ago, before she went to heaven. I
chart. have to confess. I still dance to my records—when I’m home
alone or with my grandchildren.
My younger brother, Doug, saved his earnings to buy model
car and airplane kits. And he was quite a master at his craft.
The shelves in the room he shared with our older brother, Ray,
were lined with his creations, much like my thirteen-year-old
grandson’s shelves are filled with Lego creations in the 21st
Century. Ray preferred comic books and MAD magazines.
When I was twelve, I was thrilled when I received my very
own record player for Christmas. I couldn’t wait to go to
the record store. It was only a half mile walk from our home
down Marsh Lane to Walnut Hill Shopping Center north of
Northwest Highway. Sometimes Doug and I would walk or
ride our bicycles together. Doug to the hobby shop. Me to the
record store. Life was safer back then, though I suspect moms
prayed a lot.
I kept my ever-growing stack of 45-rpm records beside my
record player perched on a table in my bedroom. With my door
closed, I would sing to my favorite songs, twist to Chubby

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