A group of Lake Charles residents recently shared memories of their childhood homes revealing how quickly lifestyles can change from one generation to the next. They also told what makes a house a home for them today. 

Louise Mayo is 88. She grew up in a multi-generational home. 

“I was in a three-generation home and my grandmother and aunt helped with cooking and cleaning,” Mayo said. 

Her father had a garden and the family sat down to eat three meals a day together. At the time, she considered a loving family the thing that made a house a home, and she thinks the same is true today. Flora Wilson, age 90 and Madolyn Bowman, 90, agreed that family is what makes a house a home.

Sylvia Parsons’ dad had a big garden and the family butchered a pig every fall,” she said. Parson is 85. 

“We had cows, pigs, chickens, sheep and a horse,” she said.

In Sylvia’s household, everyone sat at the table for every meal. Parsons or her mother said grace. When she thinks of her childhood home, it brings back feelings of family love, comfort and security.

Sharon Hanchey, age 75, said her entire neighborhood interacted like one big happy family. 

“Everyone looked out for everybody’s kids,” she said. “They gave us parties and treats.”

“No one wanted to stay inside,” said Lloyd Stakes. “We didn’t have air conditioning. And we didn’t need cell phones. My mother could find out about something I did four houses down the block before I got back home.”

Eva Bourdier, 80, remembers childhood friends when she thinks about her childhood home. 

The group remembered games they played as children, including Red Rover and Drop the Handkerchief. 

Chores were part of the routine in those days. Lloyd Stakes’ family had chickens, and his job was to clean the roost and put the fertilizer in the compost pile. Later he would be responsible for tilling it into the garden with a push plow and hoe, he said. 

“Hanchey cooked and cleared as a girl. Boudier said kitchen duties were part of her routine, but she didn’t like it. Everett Hannum, 79, fed and watered the chickens and picked up the eggs daily. 

“I had to keep my room straight, my dirty clothes in the hamper and mow the grass with a push mower, “Hannum said.

“Yeah, it was harder back then, added Van Schumtz. “We used the reel type.”

Schumtz is 92. He remembers his mother’s wonderful cooking and the joy he, an only child, and his mother felt when his dad, a traveling salesman, was home.

Today, his pets help make his house a home. Lois Lueg, 93, says its her cat that makes her house feel like a home today. 

Connie Irving, 92, keeps pictures of her family out to make her house feel more like home. 

Marj Gustine moved recently, a change that causes stress at any age. 

She admits it was difficult. She had to get rid of her mother’s grand piano. However, she is now able to see the up-side, something she calls “miraculous.” 

“It allowed me to downsize and to make sure the people got the things they would most appreciate,” Gustine said. 

She lived in the “boonies,” growing up she said. 

“We had no electricity and no telephone, but I romanticized the pioneer life. We had a woodstove. My mother washed on a scrub board.” 

Abbie Fletcher grew up in an oil town, El Dorado, Arkansas. 

“It was a good city with a symphony orchestra and a building where teenagers could hang out after school,” Fletcher said. She remembers the 12-foot ceilings in the home of her childhood:

“It was an old house that had a certain warmth about it,” she recalled. “We loved to dance so daddy built us a second floor where we could. Any time we wanted to have friends over, our parents let us. Daddy liked to tease. He had a dry wit.”

Fletcher said she had four sisters and a brother. Her childhood home was full of warmth, love, good memories, and it was noisy, she said.

Dot Myers replied simply to the question, “What makes your house a home.” She said, “It is love.”  

Camille Stakes said home really is where the heart is. 

Eva Boudier, middle bottom row, shared this 1949-’50 eighth grade class photo from her days at Central School. 

Special to the American Press

Lloyd Stakes said the mothers in his neighborhood didn’t need cell phones to know what their children were doing. Communication was instant and punishment was swift. He is shown here with a homemade sling shot. 

Special to the American Press