There are certain things we grew up knowing without being told directly by anyone. We were reminded frequently that children should be seen but not heard. Seems just by listening to our elders was education enough back in the day.
I don’t remember ever not knowing that black diamond watermelons were the best or that nothing could compare to the Pecos cantaloupe’s taste. It was obvious that yellow meated watermelons were never going to catch on as I heard that often enough from the oldtimers.
My granddaddy Clark had a fruit and vegetable stand and I often accompanied him to the markets and fields for stocking up on the latest seasonal products so I was well informed on such things. Going with him to market square in San Antonio was quite an adventure back then when producers from all parts of South Texas gathered with their produce.
Watermelons were a regular part of our summertime days spent at Dripping Springs on the river. My mom usually had a truckload of her kids along with some of our neighbors when we left the house. Often we would pick up more along the way. The watermelon would be placed among the roots of a cypress tree when we arrived where it was held for cooling in the water while we did our never ending routine of climbing up on the big rock and then diving off over and over again.
The thought of that watermelon was always in the back of our minds. I think the boys were more excited about the prospect of seed spitting and rind chunking than the girls although I don’t recall them ever backing down once the action started. It’s sad when I think about those times and how they are impossible to duplicate today with my young family members for many reasons.
No driving with a truckload of kids hanging on in the back hollering and waving towels at loose running dogs along the way. No driving down by the water’s edge. Watermelons with no seeds for spittin’!!! What’s that about?
There is an old oak tree on Main Street by the newly installed Arkey Blue’s Silver Dollar Highway sign where I spent many summer hours sitting on a trailer load of watermelons I had helped my granddaddy pick out of the fields around Pearsall. The regular melons were fifty cents each or three for a dollar. Black Diamonds were one dollar each. The current location of Gail Stone’s real estate office is where Pop-O’s vegetable and fruit stand was located. He sold bbq there at times too.
Here in my current Growing Up In Bandera days I find it almost impossible to find a watermelon on the market that has the taste of those from the past. Don’t judge me when I say even the Pecos cantaloupe’s flavor doesn’t compare to those of my younger days. Something has changed. Seems we keep losing our way in this thing we are calling progress.
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