Popcorn Wagon Update

Yesterday I posted the story of my grandmother's popcorn wagon in McMinnville, Oregon. When my sister and I were visiting as children, we'd often spend a few hours with her (Mom Jenkins), working in the popcorn wagon. Here are some recent photos of the beloved popcorn, all restored and residing in the McMinnville, Oregon fire department building:

When Grandma retired, the wagon was purchased by a museum in the capital city of Salem. But they eventually removed it from their collection and it was saved by the McMinnville Fire Department and has been displayed there ever since:

The door was at one end and the popcorn cooker at the other. You can see the cooker at the top of the photo. When the popcorn was done, that overhead "pot" dumped onto the steel tray beneath it. There, butter and salt were added. If I remember correctly, that tray was heated so the popcorn stayed hot until it was scooped up into bags:

This, I think, is a new sign, but it's an exact copy of the original. I know because I checked the old photos:

She also sold roasted peanuts. I can't remember if she roasted them right there in the wagon but I think so:

The popcorn wagon is now on permanent display in the McMinnville, Oregon fire station and brought out for field days and other special occasions:

My sister and I used to take turns accompanying our grandmother to the popcorn wagon when we were kids. There certainly wasn't much room inside, but there was a lot of love, both from Grandma and the customers, so it was a wonderful experience. And that's not to mention all the free popcorn, caramel corn, peanuts and Lifesavers:

Everything inside was shipshape, with a place for everything and everything in its place. Fresh popcorn was popped right there, but popcorn balls and caramel corn were made at home in the evenings:

The sign says "operated" by the McMinnville Volunteer Fire Department. Apparently they still use it to make popcorn for special events:

Our grandmother was a divorced woman with six children during rough economic times. She was an entrepreneur of the first order with her popcorn wagon and boarding house. She knew not only how to survive but to thrive. She lived to be 95. I come from sturdy roots:

The Popcorn Wagon

This is another post from the past, beginning with an old photo of the family's antique popcorn wagon:

Now, this is not just any old-time popcorn wagon. This is the one which was operated by my grandmother on a downtown street corner of McMinnville, Oregon for thirty years. This is the popcorn wagon from which my family received Christmas gifts every year of caramel corn and red and green popcorn balls. This is where my sister and I sometimes used to spend the day when we visited Oregon for the summer. This popcorn wagon has lots of memories for me and for my family. This photo was taken in 1955:

My grandmother, a divorced mother of six, supported her family by selling popcorn and by renting out apartments in her large, old Victorian home. It was a family business and in the evening, we might be expected to help out mixing up huge batches of caramel corn in the giant copper kettle (that's my sister on the stairway watching):

Because we only visited in the summertime, we never got to help make popcorn balls. But we certainly helped (well, we were young so perhaps I should say we watched, not helped) with the making of caramel corn. This is my mother in 1955, putting it into bags after it'd been spread out to cool:

My sister and I searched through all our old photo albums for photos and newspaper clippings. "Mom Jenkins Knows Her Corn" was a favorite sign in downtown McMinnville, Oregon for thirty years. This article was from the Oregon Journal in 1955:

And it became known widely across the state from human interest stories which appeared in many cities' newspapers. This was from the Oregon Statesman in 1964:

In 1966, my grandmother retired and sold her popcorn wagon:

It was loaded up and hauled to a museum in the State Capital of Salem, Oregon:

That's McMinnville's J.C. Penny store in the background. Just around the corner was the town's only movie theater. She made it a point to be making popcorn when the movie crowd was coming or going so that the aroma would draw them over to buy a bag of REAL popcorn (and she also roasted peanuts):

My mother, Viola, working the popcorn wagon somewhere in the 1938-1944 range:

I found this City Vendor's License from 1952 interesting, mostly because it cost forty dollars. That was a lot of money back then, especially for an elderly lady with a big family to support:

Eventually, the museum in Salem decided it no longer wanted to display the old popcorn wagon. Local civic groups in McMinnville rescued it and it is now displayed proudly in the City Fire Department Building. But I'll always remember it sitting next to J.C. Penny in downtown McMinnville, Oregon:

How About A Walk Down Memory Lane?

I recently scanned some old photos from my childhood and began passing them around. They were such a hit that I decided to put some of them into a blog post. Of course they remind me how very old I've gotten, but they also remind me of innocent times. I had Mrs. Justus for both first and third grades. My father thought she was beautiful and teased me about having a crush on her. She was beautiful, wasn't she?:

 Nothing is more fun than a big, empty box! My sister and I certainly enjoyed it. This was 1952, meaning that I was four and she was two:

 My father and me in front of our house in Brooklyn, Ohio. It was 1951, and I was three years old:

 My sister and me once again, this time in our mom's chair, about 1951:

 In footie pajamas once again, this time about 1958:

This photo of Christmas morning 1958 became one of our favorites, and my sister pointed out details I had missed. The box behind me which says "Water Tower" was a gift to me for my model railroad. My sister got the tin baby buggy she's playing with. The cardboard manger scene with plaster figures was used throughout our childhoods. Atop that table above my sister are bags of popcorn balls or caramel corn, sent to us from our grandmother's popcorn wagon in Oregon (see old posts here):

An earlier Christmas, this one about  1952:

 Now for some real early photos. This young lad was me at one year old, 1949, already showing a love for animals - stuffed or otherwise:

 Me in front of our home in Brooklyn, Ohio. It was 1953 and I was four years old:

 One year old, 1949:

We used to drive across the country every other summer to visit our relatives in Oregon. When we got home from this trip, we collected our souvenirs into what we called our "Museum." The wooden rocking horse head, the cow bone, the skull, the Civil War military training manual and the double whippletree were from our mother's family's abandoned farm home in the dry lands of eastern Oregon:

 Playing cowboy again, this time in our basement, about 1956:

With our beloved and very patient Scottie dog, Whiskers, about 1954. Our old black and white Zenith TV behind us, the set to which we rushed so we could kiss the screen when the face of Howdy Doody or Mickey Mouse came on:

Popcorn Wagon Update

Way back in September, 2010 I posted the story of my Grandmother's popcorn wagon in McMinnville, Oregon. You can find it here. When my sister and I were visiting, we'd often spend a few hours with my grandmother (Mom Jenkins) working in the popcorn wagon. Well, a friend recently passed through McMinnville and stopped to take new photos of the historic popcorn wagon:

When Grandma retired, the wagon was restored and purchased by a museum in the capital city of Salem. But they eventually removed it from their collection and it was saved by the McMinnville Fire Department and has been displayed there ever since:

The door was at one end and the popcorn cooker at the other. You can see it at the top of the photo. When the popcorn was done, that overhead "pot" dumped onto the steel tray beneath it. There, butter and salt were added. If I remember correctly, that tray was heated so the popcorn stayed hot until it was scooped up into bags:

This is a new sign, but it's certainly of the original type. The sign I remember said "Mom Jenkins Knows Her Corn:"

Yes, she also sold roasted peanuts. I can't remember if she roasted them right there in the wagon but I think so:

The popcorn wagon is now on permanent display in the McMinnville, Oregon fire station:

My sister and I used to take turns accompanying our grandmother to the popcorn wagon when we were young. There certainly wasn't much room inside, but there was a lot of love, both from Grandma and the customers, so it was a wonderful experience. And that's not to mention all the free popcorn, caramel corn, peanuts and Lifesavers:

Everything inside was shipshape, with a place for everything and everything in its place. Fresh popcorn was popped right there, but popcorn balls and caramel corn were made at home in the evenings:

The sign says "operated" by the McMinnville Volunteer Fire Department. I wonder if popcorn is ever made there anymore:

Our grandmother was a single woman with six children during rough economic times. She was an entrepreneur of the first order with her popcorn wagon and boarding house. She knew not only how to survive but to thrive:

A Bit Of Popcorn Flavored History

I recently received an email from a cousin in Oregon with this old photo of an antique popcorn wagon:

Now, this is not just any old-time popcorn wagon. This is the one which was operated by my grandmother on a downtown street corner of McMinnville, Oregon for thirty years. This is the popcorn wagon from which my family received Christmas gifts every year of caramel corn and red and green popcorn balls. This is where my sister and I sometimes used to spend the day when we visited Oregon for the summer. This popcorn wagon has lots of memories for me and for my family:

My grandmother, a divorced mother of six, supported her family by selling popcorn and by renting out apartments in her large, old Victorian home. It was a family business and in the evening, we might be expected to help out mixing up huge batches of caramel corn in the giant copper kettle (that's my sister on the stairway watching):

Because we only visited in the summertime, we never got to help make popcorn balls. But we certainly helped (well, we were young so perhaps I should say we watched, not helped) with the making of caramel corn. This is my mother sometime in the 1950s putting it into bags after it'd been spread out to cool:

My sister and I searched through all our old photo albums for photos and newspaper clippings. "Mom Jenkins Knows Her Corn" was a favorite sign in downtown McMinnville, Oregon for thirty years:

And it became known widely across the state from human interest stories which appeared in many cities' newspapers:

In January of 1966, my grandmother retired and sold her popcorn wagon:

It was loaded up and hauled to a museum in the State Capital of Salem, Oregon:

That's McMinnville's J.C. Penny store in the background. Just around the corner is the city's only movie theater. She made it a point to be making popcorn when the movie crowd let out so that the aroma would draw them over to buy a bag of REAL popcorn (and she also roasted peanuts):

These are only a few of the many newspaper clippings from around the state, but you can see that it became a beloved symbol of old time goodness, honest dealing and wholesome food:

I found this City Vendor's License from 1952 interesting, mostly because it cost forty dollars. That was a lot of money back then, especially for an elderly lady with a big family to support:

Eventually, the museum in Salem decided it no longer wanted to display the old popcorn wagon. Local civic groups in McMinnville rescued it and the last I knew, it was displayed proudly in the City Fire Department Building. But I'll always remember it sitting next to J.C. Penny in downtown McMinnville: