I just had to have them. I was 8 years old and looking forward to dressing up in my Easter finery for the Sunday church service. I already had the main attraction secured -- a yellow polka-dot dress with a white pinafore. It was the same dress I had worn the previous Easter; it would be snug and probably a little too short this time around, but I still loved it and felt like a princess whenever I slipped it on. The shoes would be my standard white Mary Janes, and Mom had found a cute hairpiece to complement my blonde curls. But I was missing a critical (at least to me) accessory: a pair of frilly white anklets.
Our June Issue
Young Entrepreneurs
How We Filled Our Piggy Banks
Role Model Memories
Parents and Grandparents We Admired
May Days
Picnics, Proms and Proposals Galore!
Dear Friends of the Good Old Days,
One of the best sounds of our Good Old Days had to be the clink of coins as they hit the bottom of our piggy banks. With each small but mighty deposit, our dreams of a vital purchase took shape in our imaginations. That hard-earned jingle-jangle meant that popcorn and a movie with friends was going to be a reality on Saturday, or that special blouse would be a part of our wardrobe soon, or a new...
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The arrival of spring in 1965 marked the end of winter shoveling and the beginning of my first adventure into the world of high finance. Of course, high finance to a 9-year-old living in Buffalo, N.Y., meant earning the huge sum of 10 cents. It was winter and shoveling snow that actually gave me my opportunity to start my own soil-delivery business.
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