The following is the second installment of a series of vignettes by Georgia (Joey) A. Munson Hadfield recounting her stay in El Dorado in 1932.
On the second day of our perusals we stayed closer to home, investigating our immediate neighborhood.. Popeye, a combination terrier and spitz, loved a good fight. We found a rust-colored chow in the next block that looked good for a round or two and a German shepherd down the alley with possibilities.
I met my neighbor, Hubert Stanley, who was at least two years older than I, and a self-professed chemist! He invited me to see his laboratory in the attic. Awesome! He had jars and jars of colored specimens that he had formulated using different colored crepe paper and water. Wowee! His hands were a testament to his profession, as his fingers and cuticles were several shades of the rainbow. I respected his great knowledge of color and decided I, too, wanted to be a chemist.
Helen Peters, living on the corner diagonally across the street, had to be the most beautiful and nicest person in the whole world. When home from college she drove a red convertible, her blond hair flying as she sailed by, waving to me. I wanted to grow up and be just like her!
Mr. Stone lived across the street from Helen. His “man” chauffeured him around town or to his ranch in a yellow Chord automobile. Most of the men in town knew and lusted after that car.
Another wonderful neighbor, Evelyn Cloise, the bride of the new Doctor in town, excelled in gourmet cooking. She would invite me for “tea,” serving her special petit fours made of chocolate icing layered between graham crackers. Yummy! I wanted to be a good cook just like Evelyn.
Eldon Peters, a year or two older than his sister, Helen, also had a sports car. He invited me to take a ride to see the Peters’ buffalo herd. Thrilled is the definitive word as I thought Eldon a man of the world and terribly handsome. We were a few miles out of town when the road turned to gravel and my hero did not slow down, which scared me silly. I demanded, “Eldon Peters, slow down this minute or take me home!” He laughed at my imperious manner, but did slow down. (He liked telling the story on himself---being reprimanded by a little squirt.) On that trip I was fortunate to see one of the last large herds of buffalo in the country.
