Hotel Perks
When I think of desirable hotel amenities today, I think of things like a pool and hot tub, an exercise room (which I've never used), an iron and ironing board in each room, and complimentary breakfast that includes do-it-yourself waffles. Every room has a large screen TV with numerous channels, and perks like computers and internet access have become more important in recent years.
Neither the Oxnard nor the Mary-Etta had any of these amenities. In fact, most of the rooms didn't even have private bathrooms. Although every room had its own sink, many guests had to use the communal bathroom located down the hall. In the summer, hotel guests who wanted to swim could drive the short distance to the city pool, but hot tubs were unheard of. At the Mary-Etta, guests who wanted exercise could take the stairs instead of the elevator. Guests at the Oxnard had no choice--there was no elevator there. Guests could borrow an iron and ironing board, if needed, but they had to ask. Guests at the Oxnard could buy breakfast at one of several small cafes located within half a block in either direction, while Mary-Etta guests could eat at the cafe located just off the hotel lobby. Guests who wanted to watch TV watched the one in the hotel lobby. The closest thing to a computer was the ancient typewriter that my dad used occasionally to type business letters. Personal computers didn't even exist in people's dreams.
As a child growing up in hotels, I had access to many amenities that weren't available to most people. The telephone booths functioned as rather generous slot machines for Dan, Laura, and me; we checked them almost daily for forgotten change. Both hotels had pop machines and candy racks in their lobbies. The Oxnard also boasted a coffee machine that offered choices of hot chocolate or coffee, with or without cream and sugar. We were limited to not more than one bottle of pop or candy bar daily, and hot chocolate as often as we wanted. At the Mary-Etta, we often read comic books from the lobby magazine rack, putting them back when we were done. We all became proficient pool players because we had free access to the pool table in the Mary-Etta lobby.
The Bonham Theater in Fairbury posted a movie placard in the hotel lobby every week, advertising the current movie. In exchange for providing space for advertising, the hotel management (my family) received unlimited free admission to every movie. All we had to do was say "I'm from the Mary-Etta," and we got in free! We took full advantage of this, going to almost every movie that was shown. By the time Dan and I were both teenagers, though, the theater limited us to a certain number of free tickets each month. I was in a bit of a quandary during those few times when a boyfriend took me to the movie, because I knew I could get in free, but I always bit my tongue and let my date pay for our tickets.
I've already written about our extensive play spaces in the Mary-Etta basement and party rooms. In addition, the large Mary-Etta laundry room, which was located on the second floor, became the catch-all room for many of our toys. We played there often when Mom was doing the family laundry or ironing hotel linens on the old mangle, which was a hot, rotating cylinder that removed wrinkles from sheets and table cloths. The waste water from the laundry room poured down a drain spout, puddling in the outdoor space just off the alley, between the hotel and the next building. In the summer, we donned swimming suits to float homemade boats or wade in the water. In the winter, when the water froze, it became our private skating rink.
Dan's bedroom had a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcase that contained all of the family books. We walked to the public library, located only three blocks up the street, to check out additional books every week. In the summer, I rode my bike to the library almost daily. We watched cable TV in our living room, or sometimes in the hotel lobby when Mom and Dad were both working downstairs. Dan also had a small TV in his bedroom, where he and Laura watched Saturday morning cartoons so Mom and Dad could get a little more sleep without children parading through their bedroom first thing in the morning, on the way to the living room TV.
I loved climbing the ladder that rose up the outside of the elevator shaft just outside our apartment door, to the black rooftop above. Mom used the roof as her private tanning salon, and I often accompanied her as I got older. Acquiring a perfect suntan was never important to me, but I enjoyed the time spent alone with Mom on the roof, and I loved the view!
We always ate breakfast in our apartment. During the summer we usually had lunch in the cafe, choosing whatever the menu had to offer. A grilled cheese sandwich was my favorite choice. We considered ourselves fortunate when Mom was able to cook supper in the apartment, because those family suppers didn't happen every night. If there was an evening meeting or banquet in one of the party rooms, Mom usually had to supervise or help serve, so we ate party leftovers together in the big kitchen or ordered supper in the cafe. We usually had roast beef or chicken or wild game for Sunday dinner in our apartment after church, but we often cooked supper for ourselves in the cafe, which was closed on Sundays. I learned to cook hamburgers, grilled cheese sandwiches, and eggs on the big flat grill long before I learned more conventional cooking methods.
When my grandparents or other relatives came to stay, they slept in one of the hotel rooms located close to our apartment. Family guests always were given a room with a bath. As a teenager, I loved hosting my friends for slumber parties, because we also used one of the hotel rooms. Of course, my parties only included three or four friends at a time, because we had to be careful not to disturb the paying hotel guests.
Many years went by before I realized just how much I enjoyed so many hotel perks. My favorite amenity? Probably just the space. There was enough space for any large party or family gathering, but I could always find a nook or cranny somewhere to be alone or together with just one or two friends or family members. As the saying goes, "our home was our castle," and I imagine that living in a hotel was the closest thing to living in a real castle.
Neither the Oxnard nor the Mary-Etta had any of these amenities. In fact, most of the rooms didn't even have private bathrooms. Although every room had its own sink, many guests had to use the communal bathroom located down the hall. In the summer, hotel guests who wanted to swim could drive the short distance to the city pool, but hot tubs were unheard of. At the Mary-Etta, guests who wanted exercise could take the stairs instead of the elevator. Guests at the Oxnard had no choice--there was no elevator there. Guests could borrow an iron and ironing board, if needed, but they had to ask. Guests at the Oxnard could buy breakfast at one of several small cafes located within half a block in either direction, while Mary-Etta guests could eat at the cafe located just off the hotel lobby. Guests who wanted to watch TV watched the one in the hotel lobby. The closest thing to a computer was the ancient typewriter that my dad used occasionally to type business letters. Personal computers didn't even exist in people's dreams.
As a child growing up in hotels, I had access to many amenities that weren't available to most people. The telephone booths functioned as rather generous slot machines for Dan, Laura, and me; we checked them almost daily for forgotten change. Both hotels had pop machines and candy racks in their lobbies. The Oxnard also boasted a coffee machine that offered choices of hot chocolate or coffee, with or without cream and sugar. We were limited to not more than one bottle of pop or candy bar daily, and hot chocolate as often as we wanted. At the Mary-Etta, we often read comic books from the lobby magazine rack, putting them back when we were done. We all became proficient pool players because we had free access to the pool table in the Mary-Etta lobby.
The Bonham Theater in Fairbury posted a movie placard in the hotel lobby every week, advertising the current movie. In exchange for providing space for advertising, the hotel management (my family) received unlimited free admission to every movie. All we had to do was say "I'm from the Mary-Etta," and we got in free! We took full advantage of this, going to almost every movie that was shown. By the time Dan and I were both teenagers, though, the theater limited us to a certain number of free tickets each month. I was in a bit of a quandary during those few times when a boyfriend took me to the movie, because I knew I could get in free, but I always bit my tongue and let my date pay for our tickets.
I've already written about our extensive play spaces in the Mary-Etta basement and party rooms. In addition, the large Mary-Etta laundry room, which was located on the second floor, became the catch-all room for many of our toys. We played there often when Mom was doing the family laundry or ironing hotel linens on the old mangle, which was a hot, rotating cylinder that removed wrinkles from sheets and table cloths. The waste water from the laundry room poured down a drain spout, puddling in the outdoor space just off the alley, between the hotel and the next building. In the summer, we donned swimming suits to float homemade boats or wade in the water. In the winter, when the water froze, it became our private skating rink.
Dan's bedroom had a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcase that contained all of the family books. We walked to the public library, located only three blocks up the street, to check out additional books every week. In the summer, I rode my bike to the library almost daily. We watched cable TV in our living room, or sometimes in the hotel lobby when Mom and Dad were both working downstairs. Dan also had a small TV in his bedroom, where he and Laura watched Saturday morning cartoons so Mom and Dad could get a little more sleep without children parading through their bedroom first thing in the morning, on the way to the living room TV.
I loved climbing the ladder that rose up the outside of the elevator shaft just outside our apartment door, to the black rooftop above. Mom used the roof as her private tanning salon, and I often accompanied her as I got older. Acquiring a perfect suntan was never important to me, but I enjoyed the time spent alone with Mom on the roof, and I loved the view!
We always ate breakfast in our apartment. During the summer we usually had lunch in the cafe, choosing whatever the menu had to offer. A grilled cheese sandwich was my favorite choice. We considered ourselves fortunate when Mom was able to cook supper in the apartment, because those family suppers didn't happen every night. If there was an evening meeting or banquet in one of the party rooms, Mom usually had to supervise or help serve, so we ate party leftovers together in the big kitchen or ordered supper in the cafe. We usually had roast beef or chicken or wild game for Sunday dinner in our apartment after church, but we often cooked supper for ourselves in the cafe, which was closed on Sundays. I learned to cook hamburgers, grilled cheese sandwiches, and eggs on the big flat grill long before I learned more conventional cooking methods.
When my grandparents or other relatives came to stay, they slept in one of the hotel rooms located close to our apartment. Family guests always were given a room with a bath. As a teenager, I loved hosting my friends for slumber parties, because we also used one of the hotel rooms. Of course, my parties only included three or four friends at a time, because we had to be careful not to disturb the paying hotel guests.
Many years went by before I realized just how much I enjoyed so many hotel perks. My favorite amenity? Probably just the space. There was enough space for any large party or family gathering, but I could always find a nook or cranny somewhere to be alone or together with just one or two friends or family members. As the saying goes, "our home was our castle," and I imagine that living in a hotel was the closest thing to living in a real castle.
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