Back When I Was Young Son was written in response to the realization that as generations pass, many children lose sight of values that were important to their parents and grandparents.
Our society has adopted words like throw-away, built-in obsolesence and no deposit-no return. The attitudes of young children are being changed by the wide spread use of computers, text messaging, i-pods, cell phones and instant gratification. The importance of having it new and having it now has replaced the desire to maintain and cherish that old fishing rod that your grandfather gave you when you were ten or that book from your mother that she kept on her dresser for twenty years. The new school of thought that it's no good unless it's new needed to be tempered by a message from the past that rings for generations to come. The value of time and experience is undeniable but the idea is in danger of being lost to the fast pace dictated by society for the children of today.
The story is fiction, taylored to send the message to young children and to remind their parents and grandparents, that what they think and feel and do, still has value, even though they may not be young, blond, pretty, rich and a hundred other adjectives that have come to replace the caliber and character of those who walked these paths before we did.
The story takes place at my grandfather's little single bay Texaco "service station" that stood on Packers Avenue in Madison, Wisconsin until the mid l950's. Herman Erb was my uncle and actually was a farmer f om Cottage Grove. I used my memories of those two men and an old gas pump to help me tell the story that although people age and change, we are still vital and valuable and should not be forgotten or disregarded. It is a message to children, who get so absorbed with themselves and the pace of their own lives, that they lose sight of those who helped forge the opportunities that they enjoy today.
With gratitude to the Texaco Oil Company for allowing us to use their company name and logo to maintain the historical integrity of the story, we welcome you to Back When I Was Young Son.
J.B. Imhoff was raised in southern Wisconsin in a family that appreciated "old stuff" and aging people. There were all-day-trips along endless country roads that criss-crossed the Wisconsin River valley and points beyond. The roads led to old farm houses with wood stoves, giant black draft horses and a wooden box in the corner of the screen porch filled with vintage cast iron toys. There were weekends as a child spent fishing with his grandparents and days after school sitting on the hard chairs at Hoveland's Barber Shop, listening to his Uncle Julius talk to other old men who had just come to visit. He watched his dad wear the same blue suit every Sunday for 20 years, until it became shiney on the back and his mother threw it away without telling him. His parents made do, raising seven children, putting people before things, putting dinner table conversation before television and teaching a large family about respect, appreciation and helping others less fortunate.
There were years in the military and a career in prison helalth services where he still plies his trade, treating aging men, some of whom he has known for thirty years.
The inescapable difference in the experiences and behaviors of the children today and the children of years past, gave rise to the writing of Back When I Was Young Son. In an age marked by computers, I-pods, absentee parents, disrespect and instant gratification, the message of the story speaks volumes.
