Our First TV

I remember our first television in the fifties. My grandfather bought it for us from a store in Salem, Iowa. I remember seeing one in the window and Howdy Doody was on. I think that was the first time I watched TV. I was about four years old and not too interested in sitting still long enough to watch it.

The TV was in the corner of our living room and over time I grew more interested in it. My father liked to watch the Monday Night Fights. They came on after the late evening news. Given that my father had a Mennonite background and my mother was raised a Quaker I really ended up with a double shot of pacifism. My father knew it was a violent sport but was drawn to it anyway and so was I. My mother, of course, wouldn’t let me watch it and besides it came on long after my bedtime. I occasionally caught a little bit of it but not much more. Of course I begged and begged to get to watch it.

Finally, the opportunity came. I think I was seven years old and it was summertime. No worries about getting up early the next morning. My mother reluctantly agreed to allow it just one time. I remember the anticipation was great! The evening trailed on for an eternity and, at last, the program was to begin.

My father, dressed in his undershirt and pants, went to the kitchen and came back with a plate. It had an opened can of sardines on it and a packet of saltine crackers. So there I was sitting with Dad in the living room watching the Monday Night Fights. I didn’t particularity like the sardines because you ate the whole thing, head and all. I tried not to look when he put one on a cracker for me.

That night I think I fell asleep before the fights were over. It didn’t matter. And today when I have a sardine it takes me immediately to that night in the living room.