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Traffic report for Sept. 14

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Police investigate crash with entrapment in Kingston

<p>&#8220;Ready for some football?&#8221; called my buddy Alner, a big grin spreading across his face as we spotted one another in the supermarket.</p><p>&#8220;I sure am, but hey, you&#8217;ve got enough there to feed a regiment,&#8221; I said, glancing at his shopping cart storehouse of chips, wings, pizzas, cheese and sodas.</p><p>&#8220;When you can&#8217;t get to the game, this is the next best thing,&#8221; he said, patting his haul. &#8220;Just like tailgating. Boy, I feel sorry for all those folks who lived years ago and never had their Sundays as good as this.&#8221;</p><p>I sighed.</p><p>Before Alner could finish his moan of &#8220;Oh, no no, no,&#8221; we were walking down a Wyoming Valley street on a Sunday of 75 years ago &#8211; 1940 &#8211; thanks to my power of metaphysical travel.</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry,&#8221; I said, tapping his shoulder. &#8220;I&#8217;ve freeze-framed our own day so nobody is going to steal your precious onion chive dip.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I see some churchgoers, but the town looks quiet,&#8221; he said.</p><p>&#8220;Well, with no Sunday shopping allowed under law, people had other activities. Let&#8217;s look at a few.&#8221;</p><p>I pulled him into a nice-looking family home.</p><p>&#8220;They&#8217;ll see us and call the cops,&#8221; he said, hugging the door frame.</p><p>&#8220;We&#8217;re invisible to them. Notice what Dad is doing while Mom is fixing a nice Sunday dinner.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;He&#8217;s holding some big colored sheets of paper and talking.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Alner,&#8221; I sighed. &#8220;That&#8217;s the comic section of a Sunday newspaper &#8211; much larger and brighter than today&#8217;s. Listen and you&#8217;ll hear him doing voices of the characters to entertain the kids as he reads &#8220;Smokey Stover&#8221; and &#8220;Prince Valiant&#8221; aloud. Children loved it. In some cities there&#8217;d be a fellow on the radio reading the comics, but a dad always did it best.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Something smells good,&#8221; he said, sniffing.</p><p>&#8220;You can&#8217;t beat an old-time Sunday family dinner. These folks would scoff at your burritos and crackers. But let&#8217;s look around town some more.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Boy, I like those cars,&#8221; Alner said as we crossed a street.</p><p>&#8220;Those folks are probably on their way for a visit to relatives,&#8221; I said. &#8220;Family ruled in those days. If you didn&#8217;t have a car, you walked across town. Incidentally, this is one of the last Sundays that a lot of families will be together. A couple of nasty guys overseas have formed the Axis Powers, and there&#8217;s something more foreboding than a game on the horizon. That means draft calls and rationing &#8211; and worse.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I see folks gathered around &#8211; what is that big wooden cabinet &#8211; a radio?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yes, Alner, whole families would sit in the living room listening to comedies, mysteries, panel discussions. Sunday was prime time back then. Or, if you wanted to take the family out, nearly every neighborhood or small town around here had its very own movie theater.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s getting dark,&#8221; said Alner as we slipped into another house.</p><p>&#8220;That means it&#8217;s time for folks to set up the card table and play some games.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Hey, I remember my grandparents talking about that,&#8221; he said.</p><p>&#8220;Right! I wish we were talking about it today. Everybody had Parcheesi or Monopoly and also a nice jigsaw puzzle or two in the closet.&#8221;</p><p>Suddenly we were back in the supermarket.</p><p>&#8220;Got everything,&#8221; I laughed, looking at his overflowing cart.</p><p>&#8220;Not quite,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Is there such a thing as &#8216;old-time Sunday dinner&#8217; aroma spray?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Great idea,&#8221; I said. &#8220;If you find it, get two and call me.&#8221;</p><style>
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<div class="neCaption">Remember When </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo0>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/web1_TOM_MOONEY1.jpg</photo0><caption0>Remember When </caption0><photoCredit0></photoCredit0></div></div>
<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Tom Mooney</p><p>Remember When</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Tom Mooney is a Times Leader history columnist. Reach him at tmooney2@ptd.net.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Remember When: What were Sundays like before football?