Sounds of Southern summer
Back when inside felt like outside, screen doors were our best defense against insects and other varmints that insisted on living within rather than without.
Created in the 1880s, this magical metal mesh was the only thing between us and the relentless summer heat.
Back before air conditioning threw up the invisible wall that separates us from everything and each other, screen doors served as protection. It kept bad things out but still let good things in.
Things like a gentle breeze off the water, the sound of crickets at night, a bullfrog bellowing in the lily pads, a dog barking way down a dirt road, a car passing by late at night or a young girl giggling in the dark.
These are just a few of the things I miss since we buttoned up and battened down the hatches of our homes.
If you'd just crack a door or open a window, you'd be surprised to learn what you're missing.
Gnat's wings
There is no sound as Southern as a screen door slamming behind a little boy on his way out into the world of wonder.
Such doors in my childhood were made of wood with wire screen stapled down the top and sides to keep it in place.
The mesh itself was smaller than a gnat's wings and strung tight. But over time, the elements and occupants took a toll. Sometimes the screen sagged, tore loose at the corners and flapped in the breeze.
Even in the best of homes there might be holes in the screen, created by young cowpokes in a hurry, an umbrella carried askew or somebody's errant elbow.
But mostly they were worn down by use, flung open by hands coming and going, then pulled slowly shut by a rusty spring that allowed it to swing only so far before it slapped back into place.
Which is why they didn't always fit well, and often squeaked and creaked every time they were used.
No pretension
A best kind of screen door, of course, was not perfectly painted. It had well-worn spots near the handle and elsewhere on its wooden face.
Because of constant use, the door was sometimes wobbly and didn't always fit tight in the corners, unless you used the little latch to secure it.
Screen doors on old houses simply had character and told a story about those who lived there.
There's no pretension in a screen door. It just has a welcoming way about it. Like the smell of fresh-baked pies pouring out, or the sound of good friends walking up the sidewalk to visit.
Just the sound of them swinging open and shut brings back memories of a time when we knew when our neighbors pulled into their driveway, when the milkman came by in the early morning, how often the town sprayed for mosquitoes, if the ice cream truck was coming, when it was raining, and if the kids were still playing in the sprinkler in the back yard.
I really miss that.
Don't you?
Reach Ken Burger at kburger@postandcourier.com or 937-5598.
E-mail this story
Printer-friendly version
Comments
sardis12 (anonymous) says...
Nope...
July 21, 2009 at 2:18 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
kath21445 (anonymous) says...
Brings back great memories- if screen had a hole, you stuck a cotton ball in it. A neighbor once said to put a picture of Elenore Roosevelt- that would scare anything away.
July 21, 2009 at 5:21 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
desspec (anonymous) says...
Unfortunately, mosquito spraying has killed more than mosquitos ... notice no mention of lightning bugs, toads, cricket frogs, cicadas, etc.... easy to over-look something we haven't seen or heard in quite a while.
July 21, 2009 at 9:23 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
jammanofdi (anonymous) says...
I miss lightning bugs! I'm only 30 years old and it makes me sad to think something I enjoyed so much 20 years ago has now been wiped completely off the face of the earth and will be something that my children will never know. If we can accidentally get rid of lightning bugs, how come we can't intentionally get rid of black widows, brown recluses, mosquitos, wasps, hornets, yellow jackets, cockroaches, palmetto bugs, no-see-ums and the worst of all - the house fly??
July 21, 2009 at 10:01 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Artemis (anonymous) says...
My screen door fell off the hinges about a year ago...really do need to replace it so I can hear those frogs and crickets again
July 21, 2009 at 10:08 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Numba10 (anonymous) says...
Mosquito spraying also diminished the bat population---you just dont see them like you used to darting thru the glare of street lights after insects
July 21, 2009 at 11:40 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Charles_Town (anonymous) says...
He also forgot to talk about the new sound of some young person's blaring music with bass that races through the neighborhood.
July 21, 2009 at 12:18 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
drdcrimj (anonymous) says...
My wife and I enjoyed lightening bugs while sitting outside in Amish country a couple weeks ago. They're still in PA I guess, in the farm country.
Good article Ken. Great trip down memory lane.
July 21, 2009 at 4:10 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
CedarPosts (anonymous) says...
The ubiquitous screen door, present at one time on every American household, once more common than running water and indoor plumbing.
The slam bam of a screen door was often met with a question from a voice at the far end of the house, the speaker unseen, often bellowing "What in the world do you boys want now?"
You could count the number of people arriving for supper just by listening to the screen door.
The poor screen door has always been the subject of bad jokes:
"What do a blond and a screen door have in common"?
Then there is the old standard "Dumber than screen doors on a submarine".
Yep Ken I'm with you wood over metal any day. Spring loaded, fast and sure, and sticks just a little in the top left corner.
Something to fix that has shown up on every weekend's honey do list since ....
July 22, 2009 at 5:43 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Pawmetto (anonymous) says...
I still have 2. One on the sleeping porch door of my 100 yr old Queen Ann style home here in the upcountry.It is fancy with the gingerbread finials and a white ceramic knob. The other, a plain one, is on the back porch. I have had my central A/C on once this summer to see if it worked OK. It did and it is off unless visitors in August want it on.My house has 12 ft ceilings and is naturally cool.
I remember the old country store screen doors with the Merita bread adds on them. I also cannot forget the gimmick most screen doors had on houses in the 50's. The fake plastic red or blue birds you could put on the middle of the screen, supposedly to ward off flies from wandering on the screen surface.I doubt they did anything at all, except provide conversation.
Great nostalgia piece , Ken.
July 22, 2009 at 9:41 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
STREETLAW (anonymous) says...
Screen doors. Yes. But don't forget paper weights and ice boxes. I bet a lot of homes don't even have an ice pick.
And ice pick was an essential element in playing mumbly peg.
Remember dirt? You really can't play mubbly peg or marbels without dirt. Now most people have only grass.
One of the sounds of childhood I miss around Charleston was the cry of the vendors. I remember one early Sunday morning when I was visiting my grandmothers hearing a sing song cry wafting throught the windows. It sounded like "gayo sunnymonin newsencorio."
I listen intently trying to deciper the message which I finally realize was emanating from a paper boy hawking "get your Sunday morning News and Courier."
And the shrimp, vegetable and fish pedlers each had their own special sales pitch. I wish someone had recorded them for prosperity.
July 22, 2009 at 10:50 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
rjs2005 (anonymous) says...
Finally, something Ken and I can agree on! I truly do miss the sound of the wooden screen door slamming. I also remember it being preceded by the sound of my sneakers squeaking on the concrete of the carport, and the sound of my bicycle crashing to that concrete after I jumped off it to run through said screen door. I miss the cold blast from the refrigerator when I would retrieve the pitcher of Kool-Aid, the sound of ice hitting the Mason Jar, and the wonderfully cold, sweet taste of the drink as I refreshed myself after a hard summer's day of play.
Maybe I can relive some of that when my granddaughter gets older.
July 22, 2009 at 1:34 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Postandcourier.com is pleased to offer readers the enhanced ability to comment on stories. We expect our readers to engage in lively, yet civil discourse. Postandcourier.com does not edit user submitted statements and we cannot promise that readers will not occasionally find offensive or inaccurate comments posted in the comments area. Responsibility for the statements posted lies with the person submitting the comment, not postandcourier.com. If you find a comment that is objectionable, please click "report abuse" and we will review it for possible removal. Please be reminded, however, that in accordance with our Terms of Use and federal law, we are under no obligation to remove any third party comments posted on our website.
Users can now build user-to-user connections, follow friends' recent posts, add an avatar that fits their personality, and more. If you have posted here before you'll need to sign up again, or if you've never posted before, start now by signing up!
Full terms and conditions can be read here.