Flour sacks, orange crates and telephones

This story is for the people in our age bracket, give or take 10 years. It seems like long ago, but not far away, flour came in 50 pound print cloth bags. Citrus fruit delivered to grocery stores arrived in wooden crates, they were called orange crates. If you picked up your telephone a pleasant voice would say, “Number please.”

The printed flour sacks became pillow cases, tea towels, curtains, dresses for young girls and yes, older girls also. The different flour companies tried to outdo each other in different designs they used for bags of flour. Most homes had a flour bin that held the flour unit it became bread or rolls. This was about the only size bag of flour my mother ever bought.

Orange crates were in such demand that grocers usually had a waiting list for crates. Workers in grocery stores had the inside track for the empty orange crates. With a little imagination crates became chairs, benches, cupboards, doll houses, cribs, rubber guns and what ever else an ingenious person could come up with. If they became loose or worn they ended up as kindling to start your stove or furnace.

As I think back before television, Nintendo, computers, faxing and yes, even dial telephones, we must have had a simple life. We didn’t have 911 but we had telephone operators. The operators recognized most voices in a small town and in an emergency she would stick with the person on the phone helping until the problem was corrected.

When our oldest son was burned by bath water we could not get our doctor. The operator took over and she kept calling until she did get him for us. 911 is great but still not the same as that friendly operator who was always there to help in any way she could. Now it seems if you call the telephone company you get a recording that tells you to call another number that is just another recording. I went through five recordings once before talking to a human being.

In our first home we didn’t have any cupboards. This didn’t faze Jean at all. She had me bring home all the orange crates I could get. She talked some relatives out of 50 pound flour sacks and went to work. Before long she had constructed a fancy cupboard with orange crates, flour sacks and a lot of imagination. We used this until moving to a better home five years later.

As the orange crates, flour sacks, telephone operators, cops on the beat, etc., era came to an abrupt end, it ushered in a whole new lifestyle: television, dial phones, fancy clothes, prepared meals, patrol cars, fast living and credit cards. Many young people live in homes that will never be paid for in their lifetimes. It takes both partners working full-time just to keep the bills paid. I’m sure no young couple getting married today would even think about using an orange crate or a flour sack, but I bet if they were to ask a grandparent if they had, the answer would be yes.

Our generation sometimes refers to this era as the “good old days.” At the time we were struggling to keep our heads above water. We dreamed of earning $100 a week and for many of us it was a long time coming. The more things change the more they seem to stay the same.

For nearly 25 years, until his death in 2015, retired grocer Don Behm wrote a column for The Storm Lake Times, “Cracker Barrel.” Don’s everyman view of everyday life was a favorite of Times readers. This was first published on Jan. 7, 1995.