100* in the Shade and No Shade

For July 13, 2022

“A hundred in the shade and no shade.” Dad said that. He truly didn’t seem to mind St. Louis’s steamy, sweltering city summers. He didn’t seem to mind sweating, either. I have memories of him pushing our rotary mower - a workout even in milder temps - then trimming around the edges of sidewalks, trees, flowerbeds and garage with hand clippers while wearing his undershirt and long pants. I have NO recollection of his ever wearing shorts. Even through all the perspiration, he relished the time outside with his chew and his thoughts and his family in the yard.

Mom pulled weeds from her colorful coleus bed and kept ice cold drinks handy. During summertime, jars of water and tea and a jug of Koolaid took up space on the top shelf of the fridge. Dad did not drink iced tea…or hot tea, either. (Something about it tasting like a medicine he took as a kid. Did he call it Black Draught)? We kids had the job of periodically blazing the trail to Dad’s location with a big glass of ice water.

Some of those slow-motion summer memories feature Mom taking a platter of pork steaks and hamburgers to the big stone backyard barbecue pit where Dad had the perfect coals ready. Mom did wear shorts and she did not sweat. How can that be? She was not making potato salad and deviled eggs and doing laundry in an air conditioned home. We relied on the shade from the big cottonwood trees and the hum of window fans to stay cool. Somehow it did feel cooler inside than outside.

Mower whirring, ice cubes rattling, hamburgers sizzling, Joe Garagiola broadcasting, kids splashing. I don’t think twenty-first century heat indexes would have altered my summertime soundtrack of childhood.