On December 4th, I turned the ripe young age of 82. While I wouldn’t trade my family or other life successes for anything, at this age, my memories have become some of my most cherished treasures. This may be true for many vintage teenagers near my age.
I often think of my mother, who found joy in her collection of treasured memories. I remember how she’d sit with her iPad—her "fort"—reviewing memories in full color. Photos and moments were at her fingertips. She’d laugh and say she wished she’d had an iPad back in her high school days (the 1930s). For her, this iPad, was a place of comfort and pride, a little digital sanctuary.
My "fort" is a bit different, iPhone photos were 50 years later. My fort is a mental scrapbook of my teenage hangouts, a time when life was simpler and full of laughter, mischief, and friendship. Memories are ignited by a few black and white photos, but mostly by thoughts of lost friends and friends I have matured with. Those were days of pure fun. There were no worries about "what’s next." I was lucky. My friends were winners… even if we did some pretty dumb things. And we laughed our way through all of it.
One of our favorite hangouts was the Gontard’s house. Susan Gontard’s mom was probably one of the most influential people in my youth. Without a plan, without an invitation, we’d just show up. Susan’s breezeway was our unofficial clubhouse for our summer antics. Winter antics were in Susan's basement.
I remember at one time, Airy Lou, Susan’s dog, ended up on the roof of her house. How did she get there? Let’s just say our curiosity and creativity knew no bounds. Was it mischievous? Absolutely. Was it hilarious? You bet. Susan’s mom always seemed to know we would turn out all right, and somehow, we did.
After Susan's, we’d pile Jim’s ’51 4-door Chevy…when it ran… off to the drive-in movie. We would crunch in the trunk, sneak in, and catch whatever triple feature was playing—probably a sci-fi marathon. It was simple and sneaky but fun too.
Another nearby hangout was Jack’s Gas Station. A faded, dingy, 300-square-foot neighborhood clapboard building. Entering, we were greeted by a worn-painted concrete floor, bare in spots, orange peel grey walls, and two bare bulbs lighting the place. There was a one-hole bathroom that served its purpose. It definitely didn’t smell like roses. Jacks had no fancy garage or frills, Just two pumps out front: ethyl and regular. Jack's wasn’t picture-perfect, but it had everything we needed.
We’d toss quarters into the empty wooden Coke cases, trying to land them just right. The top right square won all quarters. It took skill, a steady hand, and a little luck. Checker games would stretch until 9 PM closing.
These hangouts were places where time slowed down. We laughed, joked, pranked, and felt free. Looking back, I wouldn’t trade those youthful memories for anything because, in those hangouts, surrounded by friends, we were already winning.
Fast forward 40 years: Friendships, Memories, and Susan's mom—who I appreciate now more than ever—all inspired the creation and vibe of Simple Pleasures. In 2002, Simple Pleasures came to life… As a vivid likeness of Susan's breezeway, basement, and Jack's Texaco. Neon signs, classic toys, grandma's Formica tables, vintage muscle cars, station wagons, and empty Coke cases set the scene. Guests enjoy modern celebrations and parties in a “A Vintage Teenager Hangout” style.
Simple Pleasures opened in 2002. It has evolved to include multiple building and landscape features that attract many group bus tour visitors to NW Arkansas
Now you know the inspiration. The design, engineering, and construction are fascinating too — but that’s a story for another day.
Hey Vintage Teenagers! What is your fort or hangout story?
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