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Carol Perkins: Skate Key A skate key was a passport to sidewalk skating and Gene's Skating Rink in Edmonton. Skating was romance. The rink was a place where writer met her future husband; but she was interested in older guyes at the time. Now, looking back, she says, "I hung up my skates and someday my mother may find that old skate key buried in a box of memories.' Carol Perkins next earlier article: To the State By Carol Perkins The Skate Key A skate key. It was a passport to sidewalk roller skating for children of the 50's and 60's. I had great times rolling up and down my sidewalk with a song in my head. These skates, however, were not easy to manage. As a matter of fact, they were exasperating. Simply how they attached to our shoes was a recipe for trouble. Here's how they worked: the skater placed his or her shoe on the metal platform, tightened a leather strap around the ankle, and used the skate key to tighten clamps that grasped the soles of the shoes at the toe. The plate of the skate slid to fit the shoe so a child could wear them for years. The skate key also incorporated a wrench that was used to adjust the skate to the user's size and make other adjustments. If a kid lost his skate key, he was "up the creek". These skates wouldn't stay put These skates would not stay put. Just when I had a rhythm to my stride, one shoe would pop out of the skate. My ankles turned over and so did I (No kid wore a helmet; that would have been sissy). I would sit on the sidewalk and, with my key, adjust for the tenth time (or more). Because a couple of my friends lived in town, they had more places to skate than I did such as the sidewalk around the entire square. I envied their territory since mine was confined to a "Y" shaped sidewalk from my front door to the back. One thing I had, however, that they didn't was a basement. Damp and dark at the time, I still skated over the cracks and crevices which I had memorized within a week. Gene's Skating Rink was place to text skating expertise On that sidewalk and in the basement in my metal skates were where I developed my love for roller skating. By the time I had gained confidence on these wheels, Gene's Skating Rink (in Edmonton) opened and I had a place to spend many afternoons and nights and test my expert skating abilities. By now we had cast aside our sidewalk skates for indoor shoe skates, which we rented. We didn't care that half the town had slipped their feet into those skates by the time we did; we were glad to have them. As skating became more and more popular, some kids bought their own skates. We usually skated once during the week and again on Sunday afternoons. I thought I was decent until I saw those who could skate circles around me. They could cross over on the curves without tripping over their own feet, glide left and right as if they were waltzing, and the really good ones could skate backwards. I was never far from the rail While they were moving at a fast clip around the middle of the rink, I was never far from the rail so I could catch it quickly if I started to go down. I dangled on that rail many times when my feet left me. Skating was also very romantic. Many couples fell in love at roller rinks. The "couples only" was a favorite of all teens, especially girls hoping guys would roll over and take their hand. My friends and I, by then around thirteen, stood like wallflowers for a couple of years as the older boys and girls skated to "Deep Purple". No guy our age would be seen holding a girl's hand and skating with her. 'Crack the Whip' was not for the beginner We wanted the older guys to ask us anyway. Although romantic, skating could be dangerous for the novice skater if he chose to skate on the nights the good skaters showed up, which was often. No one wanted to get in the way of "Crack the Whip." The skater on the end of the whip could be slung against the concrete wall, out an open door, or through a window. More often than not, he was thrown into the rail. Crack the whip was not for the beginner. Future husband was just a cute boy; interest was in older guys--at the time As I was pilfering around in the basement a few days ago, I spotted my husband's black leather shoe skates on the top shelf in a back room. I remember him and his buddies coming to the rink to skate, but he was just a cute boy and I was interested in older guys at the time. Funny how life takes a turn or two. Before we graduated, we were skating to "Deep Purple" in a couple's only dance. The last time I skated was probably 40 years ago although I think I remember how and might be able to make it around the rink a couple of times, but I will never know. Never, never know. I hung up my skates and someday my mother may find that old skate key buried in a box of memories. About the author: Carol (Sullivan) Perkins is a lifelong resident of Edmonton, KY, in Metcalfe County where she taught high school English at Metcalfe County High School until her recent retirement. She is a now a freelance writer. is married to Guy Perkins and they have two children: Carla Green (Mark) of Brentwood, TN and Jon Perkins (Beth) of Austin, TX and six grandchildren. Her latest book, Let's Talk About, is a collection of over 70 of her works, and she is presently working on the second book in this series. Carol's ties to Adair County go back to Breeding where her grandfather, Rufus Reece, and her grandmother Bettie Strange, began their married life and later moved to Metcalfe County. You may contact Carol at cperkins@scrtc.com or write at P.O. Box 134 Edmonton. If you would like a copy of her book, you can order through email. Watch for her next story on Sunday, March 15, 2009. To read her first story on this site, a huge hit with ColumbiaMagazine.com readers, see Hit the Slopes This story was posted on 2009-03-15 06:12:57
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Carol Perkins: To The State CAROL PERKINS: Hit the slopes View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
 
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