Friday night lights
I remember those Friday nights like they were yesterday. After a long winter on the farm, a breath of spring in the air always sent people scurrying out of their homes. Those first spring Friday nights in town were always a special treat. As we climbed into Grandpa’s old, green Chevy and headed toward Princeton, we were as excited as we could be.
When we finally made it to Princeton and crossed the railroad tracks at the north end, the town was always abuzz with traffic. Driving slowly down Main Street, there always seemed to be people everywhere. As a little kid off the farm, who had only seen a handful of cars and pick-up trucks drive past the farmhouse all week, we were thrilled with all the action. Long before the days of mandatory seatbelts, we stood in the back and leaned over the front seat to get a better look.
Our first stop was always the grocery store. After all, almost every family in the area bought groceries on Friday night. Sometimes we went to the Piggly Wiggly, which was where the Princeton Police station now resides. There was also a Piggly Wiggly out where Browning’s Chrysler dealership is; that’s the store that had the great mechanical horse just inside the door — I spent many a penny and took many a journey on that horse. Sometimes, we just went to the Red & White, which was where Pizza Hut is today.
After the grocery store, we’d make our way to the south end of Princeton’s Main Street. All the stores were open late on Friday nights, and sometimes, we’d have to circle the block three or four times to find a parking space. The best place to park was in front of Citizens First National Bank. Lots of people walked in, out and past the bank; just as many stopped to read the obituaries on the bank’s window. Likewise, many folks were going in and out of the nearby stores, like Carp’s, Hornsby’s, Gamble’s and the Chocolate Shoppe. If you were able to park in front of the bank, you were able to see all the action.
Eventually, we’d tumble out of the car and begin our springtime stroll up and down South Main Street. As the adults in my family stopped to chat with friends and neighbors who had also been cooped up in the house all winter, the younger members of my family found their noses pressed up against the store windows, which were decked out for spring. As we strolled up and down the business district, which was packed with people, we’d always find a myriad of things we wanted to buy — new Easter shoes at Anderson Mosshart, a new dress at the Big Top, Spurgeon’s or Carp’s, a snack at the Swedish Cup or a bottle of pop at Nelson’s Grocery Store, a little toy from Ben Franklin or Hornsby’s ... Our wish lists were long, as the adults continued to catch up with family, friends and neighbors they met on the street.
Finally, the lights would begin to dim in the stores, and the cars would slowly back out of the parking spaces. For us and a host of other Friday-nighters, there would be one more stop ... the Princeton depot, where we’d park the car and wait for the train to come in. It sounds crazy today, but back then, it was a big deal to see who got off and on the train. As kids, we’d sit and watch and dream of the day when we, too, would be headed out or returning from our own excursions. Soon, we’d head home with another wonderful Friday night safely tucked away in our memory.
Who would have ever thought that those would be the good old days? Imagine today’s children’s response if we told them the above scenario would occupy their Friday night. While I enjoy the freedom of today, where we jump in the car on a Friday night and head to a host of places where the lights are bright and the action is plentiful, there’s something about those long ago days on Princeton’s Main Street that still causes my heart to skip a beat or two. What I wouldn’t give to take a few steps back in time and enjoy those simple Friday nights from yesteryear.
