A Martinsburg Boy's Memories and Stories from the 1950s

John Bush was raised in Martinsburg and graduated from Central High in 1961. He spent most of his adult life in the Pacific Northwest. He has many memories as a boy in the 1950s that give some insight to the people and culture of Martinsburg in the 1950s. John likes to tell stories and over the years he has repeated the stories of his youth many times. His belief is that those years in Martinsburg influenced him all of his life. Some of the stories are historical in nature, some are colorful, and some are personal. He wishes that you enjoy them.

HALLOWE’EN

There were several stages of going out on Hallowe’en as one grew up in Martinsburg in the fifties. When I was very young, there were trips to neighbors dressed in some sort of disguise carrying a sack for treats. One year I just wore a paper sack over my head and a burlap bag as a coat. You were generally invited inside and they were supposed to guess who you were. I was very lucky because there were many retired couples on North Market with kind grandmothers and I would return home with a full sack. When I got older mother would take me to the park to be in a short parade and contest for best costume. I recall once being dressed as a Chinaman, an uncomfortable store-bought costume because it was thin and it was a very cold evening. When you got older, adult supervision was not required; I was allowed to go out with friends and we would throw kernels of corn on peoples’ porches. Each of us usually liberated a bar of soap from home and soaped porch windows. We would then throw the corn and run. One year this progressed to setting paper bags filled with horse manure on fire in front of the door and ringing the doorbell before taking off on a run. We tended to use more soap on homes occupied by people we perceived to be grumpy. I had gotten in trouble riding my bicycle across one man’s garden, so I made an effort to really soap his windows. Mr. and Mrs. Burket on the corner of Christiana and North Market were always nice to all the kids so we never soaped their windows. Teachers were high on the list as targets. Many people left all their porch lights on which made it a challenge for us.

I almost got in trouble my last year of going out on Hallowe’en night. For some reason I hooked up with a group of boys three to four years older and they had made some serious plans. First there was a meeting in the trees at the park where a list of planks were discussed. The plans included places to meet for the next prank, each set at 15 minutes apart. Such a plan allowed us to arrive at the target from different directions as individuals and then run away in different directions. Such plans made it nearly impossible to catch anyone. We even had hand signals. A right arm or hand movement meant everything was a go, a left arm or hand movement meant just walk on by and meet at the next target.

The first and only prank that I was involved in with my new friends was to shake a trailer occupied by a young couple who had set it up along the alley below North Market. The problem was that the trailer slid off the cinder blocks that held it up and crashed to the ground with a bang. I ran toward the shoe factory and then over to West Allegheny and eventually on to

South Market via West Penn. I was mulling over what we had done when Chief of Police Ivan Hoover pulled up alongside me and turned on his car spotlight into my face. He told me to get in the car where he asked me a lot of questions. Of course I said I was just walking around but I am sure he didn’t believe a word of what I said. My heart was pounding as he drove toward my house on Spring Street. He stopped a couple hundred feet from my house and said if he saw me out walking anymore tonight or the next couple of nights he would take me in for a talk with my parents. I got the message and that was the last time I went out to join in on any pranks in Martinsburg.

Each year rumors circulated at school about the pranks done in Martinsburg. It was the general impression that the farm boys did not pull the same antics as the townies. Recently I was talking to a classmate who was raised on a farm on Piney Creek who told stories about Hallowe’en that clearly showed that they, too, pulled pranks. Many of the houses and farms outside of town still had outhouses and even though many were no longer in use they apparently were prime targets for pranks. One of the stories was that one owner would sit in the outhouse with a shotgun waiting for the pranksters. The best part of another story was that a prankster met his wife-to-be on one of these adventures. She had been assigned to drive the getaway car. He ran into an electric fence in the dark as he was leaving the scene of the crime, and then as they all piled in the car, it stalled adding to the suspense. It sounded like they, just like myself, were on the edge of getting into trouble. But we all grew up to be decent citizens.