06/21/09 - posted by Jo Anne Q.
Like Sitton, I too recall the Market Street People and the guy who took photographs. Still have a clear mental picture of the legless man on his little wheeled platform (I remember him mostly sitting in front of the Emporium) and a blind man with a seeing-eye dog.

My mother would give me a nickle or dime to put in their cups, along with an admonition not to accept the pencil offered because it "wasn't the right thing to do." The blind man would let me pat his German Shepard, which was a huge thrill for a kid who didn't own a dog.

She would also routinely walk me down the back alley behind the Emporium and Hales. There were always one or two down-and-out guys, curled up and sleeping in doorways with the inevitable empty bottle next to them. Mom's walk would be accompanied by a lecture to say a prayer for these "poor souls" and to thank the Lord that I had a good life. Today, peoople would consider that walk to be a dangerous thing for a parent to do, but for me, it was a Lesson Learned.

And yes, Sitton, my Mom also dressed me up for our downtown excursious - matching hat and coat, white gloves, lace-edged white socks, and the requisite black patent Mary Janes (for winter) or white dress shoes (for summer). Proper little ladies we were, eh?

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