Insight: My least favorite childhood activity

By Ed Pierce
Managing Editor

Growing up each year as the calendar turned to August, I was keenly aware that my least favorite activity was about to reappear.

The cover of Ed Pierce's report card from
his second grade class during the
1960-1961 school year is shown.
COURTESY PHOTO

As the Saturday morning before Labor Day rolled around, my parents would wake my brother and me for breakfast, then they would have us wash up and brush our teeth before loading us into the car for a drive to the Sears store. It was the annual school shopping trip, and one that I came to loathe and despise each year because it meant the end of summer vacation and our getting ready to return to the classroom.

While some friends were rejoicing about the return of football to their television screens, I was dreading what was about to happen and accompanying my mother to the underwear aisle at Sears was not a pleasant experience.

Back then, the options for boys’ underwear were limited to a style commonly known as “tighty whities.” They were briefs that came in only one color, white, and the Sears store only carried three brands, Jockey, Fruit of the Loom, or their own Roebucks offering. The briefs came in packages of six or eight and my brother and I would have to choose a package to put in the shopping cart before leaving that aisle.

Then we would move on to the T-shirt aisle and like the briefs, the only color available was white and the only style sold for boys was a crew neck collar in packages of six or eight in Jockey, Fruit of the Loom, or the Roebucks brand.

Next, we would visit the sock aisle, and this was where my mother would always make the selection. She would choose a package of six crew socks which were black in color.

The Sears boys’ clothing department would include a special section for Catholic school students for kids like my brother and me. My uniform for Our Lady of Lourdes School which was worn every day consisted of a long-sleeve light blue dress shirt, a dark blue clip-on necktie, dark blue pants, black socks, and black dress shoes. It did not matter what season it was, that was the school uniform that was mandated and if you wore anything other than that, you would be sent home for the day. My brother attended Queen of Peace School, and his official uniform varied slightly from mine to include a light brown long-sleeve shirt, black pants and a black clip-on tie.

It always prompted my father to say during the school shopping trip that he wished that the Catholic diocese would standardize the school uniforms so they would all be the same and I could pass on my clothes to my brother when I outgrew them. I heard him tell my mother that on six different occasions over the years.

After purchasing two new shirts and two new pairs of pants to go with what we already had in our closet, we would move on to the Sears shoe department. I was always fascinated by those foot measuring devices there and it was always fun to see how much of an increase in shoe sizes that my brother and I experienced since our last visit. This was always the time when my mother would tell my brother every year that he was never going to pass me in height or shoe size unless he started eating more vegetables like it was some sort of competition.

Although it was only August, my parents would insist that we needed to purchase winter items during this shopping trip. Despite the temperature being in the 80s outside, I would have to choose a new winter cap, scarf and gloves and sometimes those black rubber boots with buckles that were worn over my dress shoes. When I would complain about having to wear those boots, my father would stop me and tell me he had to pay $4.99 for my dress shoes and he wasn’t about to waste that money by me ruining my new shoes in ice and snow. If we needed a new one, my brother and I would also choose a new winter jacket to wear to school later that year.

The best part of this shopping trip was when we walked down one of the aisles to get to the cash register. With my father leading the way, we could always tell where he would stop by the aroma in the air floating our way. Sears had a display case featuring warm Spanish peanuts or cashews and he would stop and buy a bag of Spanish peanuts for 39 cents and share it with us.

And while we were there, my mother would visit the women’s department while my father would take my brother and me to the hardware section, or we’d look over what was available in lawn equipment or power tools.

Before checking out, my mother would place four “Big Chief “writing tablets and a package of No. 2 pencils in our shopping cart for us to take to school.

Driving home, my father would always remark about how expensive that school clothing is, and my mother would always tell him, “Well, you wanted children.”