Butch and Gary … bath time 1953

By John ‘Butch’ Dale
Guest Columnist

John ‘Butch’ Dale

Well, I have to admit it. I had planned on writing a column about good ol’ Joe and his White House directives, shenanigans, and gaffes, but I think just about everyone is tired of thinking about him … and, in fact, all the politicians who have screwed up our beloved country. But along those thoughts, a similar topic popped into my head: our old farm outhouse!

Yes, I know it sounds like I’m ancient, but when I was born way back in 1948, we had no indoor plumbing, no hot water, no bathroom, no toilet. Like many other farmers, Dad farmed the ground for “halves” and was provided a house by the landlord.

We had a pitcher pump in the kitchen, with a well just outside. Mom heated up the cold water on a small coal stove, and I bathed in a square metal washtub. Since we had no indoor toilet, my parents used a “potty chair’ when I was a small fry. As I got older, I was expected to use the outhouse, which was located about 50 feet east of the house.

Many people in those days, even a few in town, had these little outhouses, with most placed east of a residence for obvious reasons: because of westerly winds. The outhouse was moved every few years and a new pit was shoveled by hand. The old pit was covered up, and the grass was sure green in that area!

Dad told me that when he was a youngster, pages of the Sears catalog and newspapers were used for toilet paper. Thank the Lord we had regular toilet paper by the time I came into this world!

When my brother Gary came along in March of 1952, we still had no indoor plumbing. The metal washtub was a little crowded now. But our landlord finally forked over the money so our farmhouse could be modernized with a new fuel oil stove, electric water pump, water heater and bathroom — with a sink, bathtub, shower and toilet.

The new bathroom was not very big, as one of the bedrooms was partitioned off to make room for it. But it was INDOORS … no need to bundle up and traipse down the dirt path to the outhouse on cold winter days!

Mom no longer had to heat water on the stove for our bath. There was a large bathroom mirror above the sink. We no longer had to brush our teeth at the kitchen sink. Mom could do her hair and makeup and Dad could shave in there. I kept my Brylcreem hair tonic nearby, too. “A little dab’ll do ya!”

I think Dad appreciated the new bathroom more than anyone else in the family, especially since he had served in the Army during WWII without the benefit of indoor toilets and hot water. When he had to do this thing, he often stayed in there, with the door locked, for what seemed like an eternity, biding his time, reading magazines, a king on the throne!

Well, we kept the old outhouse for a few more years, mostly as a backup in case the water pipes froze, which happened on more than one occasion, as our house sat up on a windy hill and had no insulation.

By the time I reached high school age, there were only a handful of outhouses still used in the country and in town. A few teenage boys thought it was fun to tip over these outhouses on Halloween. Not very nice, especially if someone happened to be inside at the time!

Nowadays the few old outhouses that remain are sometimes kept as antiques, a reminder of life in the good ol’ days.

Well, I have many good memories of growing up on the farm, but I can’t say the outdoor toilet is one of those.

And ol’ Joe, if you had been smarter, you would have been better off sitting in your outhouse instead of the White House.

John “Butch” Dale retired as a teacher after 15 years and then became a deputy sheriff for 12 years. He was elected Montgomery County Sheriff in 1994 and served for three years until his father-in-law died and he took over the farm.  He has also been the Darlington Library Director since 1990, where he has served for the past 33 years. Dale is a well-known artist and author of local history.