by Donna Swagerty Shreve
In 1954 Floyd and Melva Swagerty finally had saved enough money to afford a down payment for their first new house. Moving up the job ladder, Floyd had started out in Linden and then on to Escalon. The next promotion landed the family of five in Stockton. The young couple bought a newly constructed home in Lincoln Village which was north of Stockton and considered in the county instead of the city. The family was currently a nine year-old girl, Donna, a six year-old boy, Brian and a three year-old girl, Jane. Melva was soon pregnant with the fourth child, Grant.
The house came with a good-neighbor perimeter fence. The home owner was responsible for the front gates on each side of the house and yards. Floyd had a plan for our backyard and our mother’s brother, Uncle Ronnie, was his helper. Ronnie lived on-and-off with us throughout our childhood and he was currently Brian’s roommate.
First, a huge pile of dirt was delivered to be used as top soil. The land was adobe that was not easy to work with and Floyd was convinced we needed Manteca loam for its rich qualities for growing a sturdy lawn. He also had the handicap of having to plant a lawn during the summer as he worked starting in the fall when it is much better for planting success.
The dirt was spread throughout the backyard area as best shoveling could get it. Then the art work came into play. Dad bought or found a long 2” by 4” piece of lumber that he attached rope to either end. Sometimes he asked for our help to stand or sit on either end to obtain more weight. He then evened out the loam and work very hard to set up proper drainage. He wanted any run-off water to travel to the west side of the yard out to the front yard where he had a row of special roses lined up as a border with our neighbors. Dad had carefully chosen each rose from the Port of Stockton nursery that was known for its selection of roses. Mom and Dad would dead head them so the roses would bloom longer each season. The back lawn was seeded because using sod was so much more expensive. Watering became an issue as there was no automatic sprinkler system but a sprinkler head attached to a hose that was moved to various sections. In the beginning however, I remember both parents hand watering most of the lawn area. Dad had built planter boxes so one could water without touching the new seedlings.
Our backyard was not unusual from the many others in the neighborhood but somehow it became magic to us. Frequently neighborhood kids gathered in our yard as we did have a few special features. Dad had sectioned off the west end of the yard for a huge sand box that was next to our swing set, most likely purchased on credit from Sears. As the years passed, various items were added to the yard as needs arose. Also near this end of the yard were a few fruit trees. There was a lot of farmer in both Dad and Mom’s family background. One apple tree had been grafted with five varieties. That tree became just one variety after Dad pruned a bit too vigorously one year. We also had a peach tree. Our neighbors the Wallaces had a fig tree and nectarine tree. Brian discovered he could have fun figs and a fire cracker. A small stick inserted into a fig made a huge display of pulp in the air.
One feature of all of our yards was the fencing. Due to the cheap wood used, there would be several knot holes for peeking into the neighbors’ yards. We shared our back fence with two neighbors in a staggered fashion so one only shared half of their back fence with another neighbor. It took a year or so for us even to have back neighbors as houses were still being built behind us.
One neighbor stands out from all of the others. They were nudists. They were a young couple in their late twenties with two little kids. They had installed in their back yard an above ground Doughboy plastic pool. It seemed large to us and had a slide with an outside ladder to access it. Their pool was tantalizing as the neighborhood pool was not built yet and we had to invent sprinkler games to stay cool during those hot triple-digit days in Stockton summers. Splashing, laughing and various other sounds lured us to peek. The word soon spread and we carefully invited in certain neighborhood kids to share our backyard show. We could have charged admission!
We tried to be quiet so we would not give ourselves away but I really don’t think the neighbors minded. Looking out our living room bank of windows, our father noticed a crowd of us glued to the fence. He stretched up to see and then called us in. Our neighbors’ kids were sent home and we were to’s two kids kept certain neighborhood mothers busy covering them up with extra underwear. The family only stayed a few years and then moved to San Francisco. The new climate in their new neighborhood might have slowed down their lifestyle.
Mother loved sweet peas and planted them in an old wagon wheel the i north east corner of the yard. The irony was Mother was quite allergic to the colorful flowers but she grew them and even brought them into the house. Sweet peas attracted bees and this created a new game for the youngest sibling, Grant. He would gather water from the convenient water fountain and spit at the bees. As far as we can remember he never got stung.
The small garden near the fruit trees had tomatoes, spinach and zucchini. Rhubarb was grown under the kitchen window on the east side of the house. Our first crop from that plant went into a pie. After that first experience with rhubarb pie, I have never had another piece. I am guessing Mom had a bad recipe or left some of the sugar out.
We had a peach tree and our neighbors to the west had a nectarine tree. Brian played with our neighbor Bruce Wallace, whenever possible. Brian would throw Bruce a peach from our tree and Bruce would return the favor with a nectarine. One of Brian and my dreaded chores was helping with canning the peaches. Brian and I had the job of removing the skin from the peach after Dad had bathed them in a lye bath. Brian and I were convinced we were going to lose our finger prints after a while. The peaches from our backyard tree were more for eating and did not have the same connotation to us as the ones Dad brought home in big lug boxes.
Brian got inspired by the 1960 Olympics and decided to create a Decathlon course in our backyard playground. This idea and course morphed later into an obstacle course for future Cub Scout events. Mom was the den leader and the boys were certainly sent through many a fun activity. At birthday parties guests were divided into teams and participated in a dress up relay races. Some of Dad and Mom’s old clothes were put into large containers at the far end of the yard. The kids were to run down the length of the yard, stop, dress up in oversized clothes and then return to tag the first person in line. The relay person then ran back to the box, they undressed and returned to the next person to continue the process until all of the kids have had the experience. The winning team got some kind of prize.
One birthday our father received a birthday present of a magnolia tree. Dad got the honor of planting it and we were amused that the tree was the same size as our 6’5” father. That tree lasted through several subsequent owners but eventually someone took it down. That tree offered shade and beautiful blossoms and leaves for decorations for special occasions. The drinking fountain was installed right next to that tree. We certainly drank out of a hose when we were out front.
Brian decided to be a bug collector. The garden offered many possibilities. His collection included tiny green worms plus the big fat ones that loved tomato plants. Brian became quite upset when he realized his jars had become killing jars when the insects had not received air, water or food. A few years later Grant befriended a praying mantis. The garbage cans were stored alongside of the garage on the east side of the house. Flies were in abundance. Grant would go to the garbage cans with a plastic bag and easily catch flies. He would then take them over to a praying mantis he found in the planter box by our patio. That insect pet grew quite fast that summer and rarely was found far from the original spot where Grant had found him. That guy would wait for his daily meal from his human friend.
We played games during our weekends or summers. Marbles were popular and there are the official rules for marbles but somehow we came up with our own. Mom told us to play using the official rules that, I am guessing, would keep down the fighting. Of course, left to our own devices we did our own thing. I remember cherishing my special beauties and only using certain marbles I could bear to lose to my opponent.
Dad put up a net and many a badminton game was played but it could be too windy for that game to be any fun. Our parents had purchased powdered milk in a large 55 gallon cardboard cylinder complete with a metal rimmed lid. After we had finally finished off the pathetic excuse for milk, Jane and a neighbor girl named Gail made a variety of games for this container. One of them involved hiding in that barrel waiting for the other to knock on the lid. There was then some sort of a routine where the person in the barrel would pop up and say something. My mother noticed their game and tried to film it once. They became shy and were reluctant to continue without awkwardness.
Several times during the summer we were allowed to sleep outside in the backyard in a big camping tent. It was set up for a day and night for new games. It could never be left up too long because it ruined the lawn underneath. I remember waking up itchy and uncomfortable. I suppose a good air mattress would have helped.
Looking back on those wonderful ten years, I marvel at how creative we became with our little plot of backyard. We always had a variety of activities and I never remember being bored. Of course if any one of us had mentioned boredom, we would have been given a chore to do. Mom never even pretended to be our “tour director”
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5/8/20
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