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Growing up in Devils Lake, the first snow of the year meant out came the overshoes. That lead to a six or seven month sentence of plodding around in those contraptions.Overshoes came in a choice of buckle or zipper models. Actually, there was not much choice around our house. I wore what was on sale.
My preference, not that it mattered, were buckles. They were more manly than the zipper models. Girls wore zipper models as did boys whose mothers found them on sale. Regardless of which you wore, you did not want to be seen with overshoes buckled or zipped to the top. That was not manly either. You ran the risk of snow in your overshoes when snow was deep but, a man is what a man does and it just was not cool to do the unmanly thing.
A choice of being manly or having dry feet always leaned toward the manly.
Being alone with no one to see how your overshoes were worn often leaned the issue back the other way. My last few years in Devils Lake were all two overshoe winters. My mother never understood how one pair would not last through the winter. The bottoms seemed to wear out prematurely. There were any number of explanations for this. I stuck with the “It’s a long way to school” excuse and there was a glimmer of truth in that. St. Mary’s Academy was about one mile from my home.
Once we had enough snowfalls in town, the side streets were all hard packed snow. Snowplows just pushed away the latest snow but kept the icy layer intact. The Academy was near the edge of town on Seventh Street, just beyond Mercy Hospital. Every morning there were cars going out seventh street. If you waited near a stop sign you could duck down behind a car, grab the rear bumper, when bumpers were still bumpers, and hung on as best you could and slid your way toward school. Thus began the fine art of hitching a ride.
Hitching had it’s thrills, especially when someone knew you were on their bumper and did not want you there. As a means of conveyance it surely beat walking. One drawback was it sure wore the soles off your overshoes. If I had not had to hitch so far to school, the overshoes may have lasted longer. “Yes mom, it’s a long way to school and I also do not think they make overshoes like they used to.”
Robert Pfleiger,
Nashville, Tenn.
Growing up in Devils Lake, the first snow of the year meant out came the overshoes. That lead to a six or seven month sentence of plodding around in those contraptions.Overshoes came in a choice of buckle or zipper models. Actually, there was not much choice around our house. I wore what was on sale.
My preference, not that it mattered, were buckles. They were more manly than the zipper models. Girls wore zipper models as did boys whose mothers found them on sale. Regardless of which you wore, you did not want to be seen with overshoes buckled or zipped to the top. That was not manly either. You ran the risk of snow in your overshoes when snow was deep but, a man is what a man does and it just was not cool to do the unmanly thing.
A choice of being manly or having dry feet always leaned toward the manly.
Being alone with no one to see how your overshoes were worn often leaned the issue back the other way. My last few years in Devils Lake were all two overshoe winters. My mother never understood how one pair would not last through the winter. The bottoms seemed to wear out prematurely. There were any number of explanations for this. I stuck with the “It’s a long way to school” excuse and there was a glimmer of truth in that. St. Mary’s Academy was about one mile from my home.
Once we had enough snowfalls in town, the side streets were all hard packed snow. Snowplows just pushed away the latest snow but kept the icy layer intact. The Academy was near the edge of town on Seventh Street, just beyond Mercy Hospital. Every morning there were cars going out seventh street. If you waited near a stop sign you could duck down behind a car, grab the rear bumper, when bumpers were still bumpers, and hung on as best you could and slid your way toward school. Thus began the fine art of hitching a ride.
Hitching had it’s thrills, especially when someone knew you were on their bumper and did not want you there. As a means of conveyance it surely beat walking. One drawback was it sure wore the soles off your overshoes. If I had not had to hitch so far to school, the overshoes may have lasted longer. “Yes mom, it’s a long way to school and I also do not think they make overshoes like they used to.”
Robert Pfleiger,
Nashville, Tenn.
FROM THE AUTHOR: I was born at Mercy Hospital 4/10/1943. I spent my first 14 years in Devils Lake. I attended St. Mary's Academy through eight grade. My father, Casper Pfleiger, worked for Fairmont Foods and was transferred to Minneapolis in the summer of 1957. I attended high school and college in Minneapolis. After the University of Minnesota I was married to my wife Mary and worked for Honeywell. I was transferred to Nashville TN in 1967. In 1980 I left Honeywell and started Ener-Tech Industries which I have since sold. I am semi retired but still work part time at Ener-Tech. Mary and I raised four daughters and have five grandchildren. We like to travel when possible.
