| Biographical Non-Fiction posted December 31, 2018 |
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A journey to a basement.
A Place of Joy
by HarryT
My thoughts sometimes venture back to our Chicago redbrick bungalow. I was seven and my brother, Dom was five and one half when we moved. We were excited because the new house had a basement. My father finished half the basement with drywall, tiled the cement floor and put in a false ceiling with florescent lighting. The lighting was unique because it had blue tubes on one switch and white lights on a second switch. As we got older and had parties, we could create a romantic atmosphere by just turning on the color tubes.
Dad had a friend who was an artist, he covered the walls with a Florida beach scene and in the rear a fishing scene complete with a fisherman in a red canoe catching a jumping bass. The beach scene included three voluptuous ladies, a red head, a blonde and a brunette. At first the girls were in their birthday suits, that is, until my mother saw them. On her command the artist quickly attired them in two piece bathing suits, one blue, one yellow and one red.
My dad constructed a bar of sandblasted pine wood with a shiny red-wine mahogany top. Sandblasted pine wood also was used as trim and to hide the water pipes that ran along the ceiling. The bar was place at the front of the room with four leather bar stools. Behind the bar was an old dining sideboard with a mirror. Liquor bottles were kept on top of the side board. The drawers were used to house various size glasses, , bar jokes, a 78 rpm record collection and a phonograph which he hooked up to a speaker system which played throughout the basement area.
There were two ways to enter the basement. We could enter through the outside by walking down the cement back steps which he later enclosed. The second egress was a set of stairs which one could descend from the kitchen. These stairs essentially split the basement into two halves. The fun room, as we called it, and the kitchen area. Of course, no Italian house with a basement would be without a second kitchen including a gas stove, refrigerator and Cold Spot freezer which stood next to the rear entrance. A ringer washing machine that was eventually replaced by a Speed Queen washer and dryer set lined the remainder of the wall space.
Recall I said my father divided up the basement space. Behind the false dry wall were two rooms; one we called the furnace room, the other was a coal bin, which when we were small, we dare not go near because that was the bogey man’s lair. However, a few years after moving Dad had the coal boiler removed and replaced with a forced air gas furnace much to our pleasure since we no longer had to haul out the burned clinkers and ciders. Since we now had a sister and the demand for washroom space was more in demand, he installed a toilet and sink in the furnace room along with our giant toy box.
The advent of gas heat also opened up the old bogie man space. Before he began his woodworking company, Dad was a candy man. Making candy was his first love. He converted the old coal bin into his candy kitchen. We called it the candy room. It was painted bakery white and contained a round black, single burner, gas stove and a large, shiny, steel topped preparation table with sturdy, yellow-painted legs. A large copper kettle sat on the round gas stove. Implements needed for the making of candy including whisks, funnels, wooden paddles and spoons, and a giant thermometer hung on the wall. When we were old enough he allowed us to help with the preparation of his scrumptious candy treats.
The basement of this Chicago house was a joy for my brother and me. As we grew the basement evolved from a place to play guns and hang our model airplanes, to dance parties in our teens and later to a study area during our college days. The basement, my dad designed, is a place happily etched deeply in his children’s memories.
Sense of Place Short Story writing prompt entry
My thoughts sometimes venture back to our Chicago redbrick bungalow. I was seven and my brother, Dom was five and one half when we moved. We were excited because the new house had a basement. My father finished half the basement with drywall, tiled the cement floor and put in a false ceiling with florescent lighting. The lighting was unique because it had blue tubes on one switch and white lights on a second switch. As we got older and had parties, we could create a romantic atmosphere by just turning on the color tubes.
Dad had a friend who was an artist, he covered the walls with a Florida beach scene and in the rear a fishing scene complete with a fisherman in a red canoe catching a jumping bass. The beach scene included three voluptuous ladies, a red head, a blonde and a brunette. At first the girls were in their birthday suits, that is, until my mother saw them. On her command the artist quickly attired them in two piece bathing suits, one blue, one yellow and one red.
My dad constructed a bar of sandblasted pine wood with a shiny red-wine mahogany top. Sandblasted pine wood also was used as trim and to hide the water pipes that ran along the ceiling. The bar was place at the front of the room with four leather bar stools. Behind the bar was an old dining sideboard with a mirror. Liquor bottles were kept on top of the side board. The drawers were used to house various size glasses, , bar jokes, a 78 rpm record collection and a phonograph which he hooked up to a speaker system which played throughout the basement area.
There were two ways to enter the basement. We could enter through the outside by walking down the cement back steps which he later enclosed. The second egress was a set of stairs which one could descend from the kitchen. These stairs essentially split the basement into two halves. The fun room, as we called it, and the kitchen area. Of course, no Italian house with a basement would be without a second kitchen including a gas stove, refrigerator and Cold Spot freezer which stood next to the rear entrance. A ringer washing machine that was eventually replaced by a Speed Queen washer and dryer set lined the remainder of the wall space.
Recall I said my father divided up the basement space. Behind the false dry wall were two rooms; one we called the furnace room, the other was a coal bin, which when we were small, we dare not go near because that was the bogey man’s lair. However, a few years after moving Dad had the coal boiler removed and replaced with a forced air gas furnace much to our pleasure since we no longer had to haul out the burned clinkers and ciders. Since we now had a sister and the demand for washroom space was more in demand, he installed a toilet and sink in the furnace room along with our giant toy box.
The advent of gas heat also opened up the old bogie man space. Before he began his woodworking company, Dad was a candy man. Making candy was his first love. He converted the old coal bin into his candy kitchen. We called it the candy room. It was painted bakery white and contained a round black, single burner, gas stove and a large, shiny, steel topped preparation table with sturdy, yellow-painted legs. A large copper kettle sat on the round gas stove. Implements needed for the making of candy including whisks, funnels, wooden paddles and spoons, and a giant thermometer hung on the wall. When we were old enough he allowed us to help with the preparation of his scrumptious candy treats.
The basement of this Chicago house was a joy for my brother and me. As we grew the basement evolved from a place to play guns and hang our model airplanes, to dance parties in our teens and later to a study area during our college days. The basement, my dad designed, is a place happily etched deeply in his children’s memories.
Dad had a friend who was an artist, he covered the walls with a Florida beach scene and in the rear a fishing scene complete with a fisherman in a red canoe catching a jumping bass. The beach scene included three voluptuous ladies, a red head, a blonde and a brunette. At first the girls were in their birthday suits, that is, until my mother saw them. On her command the artist quickly attired them in two piece bathing suits, one blue, one yellow and one red.
My dad constructed a bar of sandblasted pine wood with a shiny red-wine mahogany top. Sandblasted pine wood also was used as trim and to hide the water pipes that ran along the ceiling. The bar was place at the front of the room with four leather bar stools. Behind the bar was an old dining sideboard with a mirror. Liquor bottles were kept on top of the side board. The drawers were used to house various size glasses, , bar jokes, a 78 rpm record collection and a phonograph which he hooked up to a speaker system which played throughout the basement area.
There were two ways to enter the basement. We could enter through the outside by walking down the cement back steps which he later enclosed. The second egress was a set of stairs which one could descend from the kitchen. These stairs essentially split the basement into two halves. The fun room, as we called it, and the kitchen area. Of course, no Italian house with a basement would be without a second kitchen including a gas stove, refrigerator and Cold Spot freezer which stood next to the rear entrance. A ringer washing machine that was eventually replaced by a Speed Queen washer and dryer set lined the remainder of the wall space.
Recall I said my father divided up the basement space. Behind the false dry wall were two rooms; one we called the furnace room, the other was a coal bin, which when we were small, we dare not go near because that was the bogey man’s lair. However, a few years after moving Dad had the coal boiler removed and replaced with a forced air gas furnace much to our pleasure since we no longer had to haul out the burned clinkers and ciders. Since we now had a sister and the demand for washroom space was more in demand, he installed a toilet and sink in the furnace room along with our giant toy box.
The advent of gas heat also opened up the old bogie man space. Before he began his woodworking company, Dad was a candy man. Making candy was his first love. He converted the old coal bin into his candy kitchen. We called it the candy room. It was painted bakery white and contained a round black, single burner, gas stove and a large, shiny, steel topped preparation table with sturdy, yellow-painted legs. A large copper kettle sat on the round gas stove. Implements needed for the making of candy including whisks, funnels, wooden paddles and spoons, and a giant thermometer hung on the wall. When we were old enough he allowed us to help with the preparation of his scrumptious candy treats.
The basement of this Chicago house was a joy for my brother and me. As we grew the basement evolved from a place to play guns and hang our model airplanes, to dance parties in our teens and later to a study area during our college days. The basement, my dad designed, is a place happily etched deeply in his children’s memories.
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Writing Prompt Write a 400 to 700 word essay describing a place. This should be a descriptive short story, make sure you describe the place very well. This place you are describing can not be a place in your imagination, dreams, ext. It has to be a real place, preferably a place you know very well. You do not have to have been to this place, and this can be a made up story. Be creative and descriptive! |
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