There are many memories from this past century that are now long-gone. These include births, funerals, quarantines, doctor's house calls, unlocked doors, ice boxes, party-line telephones, twice-daily mail delivery, floor radios and showerless baths in two-family, uninsulated, coal-heated homes.
Hand-cranked cars with rumble seats, alcohol antifreeze, inner-tube tires, Western Union bicycles, horse-drawn carts for deliveries and garbage removal, railroad stations, electric streetcars, lake boats and the ferry to Canada. And newsboys shouting "Extra!"
Men's wide-brimmed hats, pocket watches, spats and knickers. Women boiling clothes, washing diapers, canning food, beating rugs, stretching curtains as they dried and dying margarine.
Infantile paralysis, tuberculosis, unfluoridated water, predawn Mass, habited nuns, four-room schoolhouses, war bonds, gasoline and food rationing, downtown shopping, Chinese war cards and rubber-band guns.