Hung
Out To Dry – Part One
Ever
hear of National Clothesline Week? Well, neither had I until this
observance was featured recently on a television new's report.
Apparently there is a nation wide movement to encourage folks to save
energy by hanging their freshly washed clothes outside and to quit
using dryers for a week each year. The first week in June has been
designated for this purpose. If you missed this years hanging like I did
there is always next year.
Just
like most of our moms and grandmothers did in days gone by, activists
want us to hang our wet, dripping clothes outside. If saving energy
is our national goal then this makes sense. Perhaps it should be
adhered to more often than one week per year. My mom didn't have a
clothes dryer until after I left for college. Like millions of other
mothers, she diligently hung out our jeans and shirts, socks and
sheets on the clothesline to dry.
Following
is an article out of Kewaunee County, Wisconsin, dated June 7, 2015,
which I ran across this week. Hopefully, the Historical Society there
won't mind me reprinting a portion of their informative report.
“This
is International Clothesline Week. It celebrates a free and easy way
to dry clothes naturally, right in our own backyards. Clothesline
protocol however has mostly passed out of existence and that might be
a good thing. A mere 50 years ago neighbors knew a lot about one
another and judged each other by the way the wash was presented.
Monday
was wash day. Anybody who didn't know that was pretty dense....
“Clothes
were always hung by color, never haphazardly. Sheets were always on
the outer lines thus guarding the families' unmentionables, though it
was hard to understand why Grandpa’s woolen long johns were always
visible. He wore those woolen things winter and summer. They kept him
warm in winter and he said they soaked up sweat in summer and kept
him cool. Kids who ran around in shorts and tank tops never believed
it. For some reason long johns weren’t as unmentionable as other
underwear, but perhaps by the 1950s, it was only the old coots who
knew much about the things often called 'union suits'
….
 |
Grandpa's Long Red Woolen Underwear
Hung Out with the Rest of the Laundry |
“Protocols
differed throughout the country and, of course, women had to make do
with what they had. Our pioneer ancestors spread wet clothing on
bushes or lines that were strung from tree to tree and then taken
down when the wash was dry.
"Lines
sagging with the weight of sheets and work clothes were held up with
clothesline poles placed in the middle of each line. Today,
neighborhood covenants often prohibit clotheslines and outdoor
drying, or allow retractable lines only. In a society where "green"
is "in" and solar power is big, clotheslines are not. Who
knows? In years to come, National Clothesline Week could be a real
celebration!”
Well,
mom didn't have to hang our wet clothes on bushes or on a rope strung
from tree to tree. She had a “real” clothesline of metal poles
with four long wires strung between them. And, she didn't bother with
hanging our unmentionables behind bed sheets. No, our underwear was
hung along side all the other clothes with no thought as to what the
neighbors might see or think.
This
never seemed to be a problem until I got my first union suit at the
age of fourteen. We lived next door to two teenage girls, one of whom
I was smitten with. Those young ladies never seemed to notice my
underwear until mom started hanging out that dang union suit. Before
then, they didn't give a second thought as to my brothers' and my two
piece long johns or our printed boxer shorts when
displayed out on the clothesline. Or if they did, we didn't know.
But did they ever enjoy giving me fits over my union suit.
Even thought their daddy wore union suits, those
girls loved to point at my long button-down underwear and hoot and
holler over our fence. This whenever they saw my union
suits flapping in the wind especially while I was out in the yard tossing around
a football or doing a little late autumn yard work. At first, my face would
turn a bright crimson and I would run for the house taking refuge
indoors. I could have hidden inside during every wash day but was
just stubborn enough not to do that. No girls were going to push me
around! When I complained to mom about their incessant chiding
suggesting that maybe she could hang my union suits up in the
bathroom to dry, she refused and simply said, “Just ignore them,
Christopher.” And, for her that was that. But ignoring those girls
was difficult.
After
several fall and winter seasons, the girls finally grew tired of picking
on me. Apparently,
even union suits lose their comedic appeal. And I got over my
embarrassment, enough so that I began dating the younger of those neighbor
girls. From time to time she would bring up that sore subject by
inquiring, “Chris, are you wearing that silly winter underwear?” or
“Did you remember to button your flap?” or "Did your mommy iron your long johns for you this morning?" Stuff like that. I loved that
girl anyway. We separated later though when we went off to different
colleges. We saw very little of each other after that. Now and again, I wonder about that girl and whether she married a union suit wearing man. My wife certainly did.
Surprisingly,
you can find dozens of photographs of union suits hanging out on
clotheslines across America. Why would so many people take pictures
of their long one-piece underwear without anyone in them? Oh well,
here are a few of my favorite photos.
Added July 15, 2018:
Some guys hang up their Union Suits inside...
For example, Coach Wentz of Silver Spring, Md tells me that he hangs his long underwear inside to dry as he has no exterior clothes line where he lives....
