I recall the excitement as a child, ushering in winter with my father climbing into the attic before the first cold snap to "check" the heater. I always wondered what he did as he crawled up into that dark space. We'd hear some banging, often a few colorful words which meant my mother had to call some repairman to come out, or more often than not, he'd holler at my mother to turn the thing on to see if it really would work again that particular year. We'd smell the definite odor of burnt lint and dust and other unidentifiable stuff as the heater revved up for the first time of the year.
The heater I'm talking about would not meet ANY standard of safety. Ever. It was what was known as a FLOOR HEATER and usually was placed in the center of a hallway. Looking back I DON'T UNDERSTAND THAT AT ALL!! It had a grate with the heater below which would heat up the grate to probably 350 degrees, or so it seemed. You get my drift?
I want to know where all the lawyers were then? That could have been one lucrative class action suit with all the burned little kiddies toes and fingers. My own sister, Cathy, at the age of two, was supposed to learn to navigate somehow around the perimeter of the contraption. If she were here, I'd take a photo of the bottoms of her feet to show you the damage a tromp across that scalding gate did to her tender feet. I'm sure my mother rubbed butter on those feet, the only remedy for a burn at the time. My twin sister, Jerrie, and I used to play tic tac toe on the bottom Cathy's feet; a perfect tic tac toe grid!
I know persons in the "middle years" often begin to reminisce about those "good old days", yet not once have I ever had the thought that I would like to fire up a floor heater to tip toe around just for the sake of nostalgia. I think it's a good thing those hazardous home appliances became extinct! How about you?
