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Morris a blooming success in '33 county rose show

By Willys Peck

"Don't you think it's about time to give the readers a break and let something worthwhile appear in this space?"

They were the words of Sam, my acronymic inner voice--Subliminal Argumentative Mouthing--who intrudes on my consciousness when I'm groping for a column subject.

"You're so hung up on this idea of living in the past that it's become a fetish," said Sam. "And I'd say that all three--pardon me--both of your readers have had it up to here. When you live in the past, there's nothing to look forward to; you already know what's going to happen next."

"That's it," I said. "You've just given me an idea for a theme: Live in the past and know the future. You've solved my problem."

"Curses," said Sam. "Foiled again." And he silently withdrew.

So here I am looking through some of my favorite sources to which I pay LIP service (acronym for Living In the Past), and darned if I haven't run across a couple of worthwhile items. The source is the Los Gatos Mail News and Saratoga Star, the weekly newspaper of which my dad was editor until 1943, when he became Saratoga postmaster.

Here's the edition of May 4, 1933, with a front-page story about a Saratoga youth winning a first prize in the annual Santa Clara County Rose Show, held in conjunction with the Central California Division of the American Rose Society. The boy was 13-year-old George Edward Morris, who lived with his mother and grandmother in a house at the bend of Oak Place. Since he was one of the neighborhood kids when my family lived on Orchard Road, and my older brother's age, I saw a lot of him. One thing I remember was the fact that he was always known as George Edward, rather than just George.

The news story noted that he had "won every year since he began to show, five years ago." It must have been that year of the news story when he, my brother and I set up a rose stand across the street from his house. Oak Place didn't have much traffic, but as an occasional car passed, one of us would shout, "Roses, 15 cents a dozen." There wasn't a whole lot of business.

That 15-cents-a-dozen price doesn't seem like much now, but we're talking Great Depression here. Just take a look at the grocery ads inside the paper. How about honey, "made by the bees," at 39 cents for a 5-pound bucket? And here are "large fresh ranch eggs" at 15 cents a dozen, lamb chops at 16 cents a pound and baked beans at 5 cents for a "tall can." If those prices seem impossible, bear in mind there were people who felt lucky to be making $20 a week.

Still in that far-off year of 1933--who says 74 years ago is far-off?--I'm looking at a May 11 issue of that paper with a front-page story about a repeat performance of Alice in Wonderland, with Olivia De Havilland in the title role. I know I've dwelt on this subject in previous columns almost to the point of monotony, pointing out that I played the duck, my mother was the Cheshire Cat and my brother either Tweedledum or Tweedledee, but I bring it up here because this was when the show went on the road.

The original production was in the Foothill Clubhouse. The one described in this edition of the paper was on May 12 in the San Jose Woman's Club. Incidentally, and I think I've mentioned this before, as a veteran copy editor I always do a doubletake when I see that club's designation being in the singular person. I guess the reference is to the woman whose "place is in the home." The Alice road trip also included a performance in Palo Alto, in which I did not take part.

Things were also really going on at Saratoga School at that time, too. There was the "Play Day" with pupils from Los Altos, when the kids formed into four teams and competed in volleyball, basketball, paddle tennis and track events. Girls played basketball, baseball, pinball (what's that?) and paddle tennis.

Another school event was a "Dance of Nations Pageant," a series of song and dance tableaux depicting nations "that have contributed to American citizenship." I don't remember that particular caper, even though it was part of Public Schools Week. Play Day, though, really sticks in my mind.