Bean Boots

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story titled "Bean Boots" that I found in my "Good Old Days" Magazine that had been tucked away in one of my desk drawers.  Story when like this.... Lewis pulled the old Chevy van up to our house after school, and my brothers and I got out.  My feet were wet as they often were that fall, but it was with excitement and anticipation that I went running into the house.  "Did my boots come today, Mom?"  It was late in the fall of 1943.  The war had been going on for nearly two years.  I was nearly 12.  Footwear was rationed and very difficult to get, particularly rubber boots of any kind.  On dry days, I wore my shoes and on wet days a pair of rubber pacs that a neighbor had given to me.  They were hand-me-downs from one of his sons who was considerably older than I was.  The boots were at least two sizes too big for me.  Those rubber pacs had seen their day.  The sole was broken on both boots.  It was necessary to mend the breaks in the soles with a rubber composition material called Solo.  I would clean the breaks, apply rubber cement, and when properly tacky, force the gooey Solo into the breaks and then let it harden overnight.  The pair could last a couple of weeks and then would need to be done again.  Obviously, the boots would be wet and would require a couple of days drying time on top of the warming closet over the wood stove.  The old Solo would have to be pulled out, and then the area would have to be cleaned, cemented and patched all over again. In the meantime, I'd wear my regular shoes and hope it wouldn't rain or snow.  My parents cautioned me that there was no guarantee I'd get the boots at all.  A lot of people needed them.  There could be a six-week to two-month shipping delay.  The boots cost $4.65 a pair.  I had saved about $3 from my summer earnings from caddying at the golf course, and Mom and Dad agreed to pay the rest.  Bean's catalog didn't have children's sizes, only mens' sizes.  That meant the smallest size I could buy was a size 6.  My shoe size at the time was only 4.  We ordered the boots as soon as we could in hopes the I would stand a better chance of getting them.  Days went by!  Each school day I'd pick my way around puddles or trudge through the snow with whatever I had for shoes or boots that day.  In the afternoon we'd all climb out of the Chevy "carry-all" van that served as our school bus, and I would hurry into the house.  My question was always the same.  Poor Mom must have found it difficult to answer the question day after day with a no.  Christmas was rapidly approaching and with it came more snow and more frequent wet feet.  Needless to say my hopes were low that the boots would arrive at all.  After one particularly long day, we boarded the van to head home.  It stopped at our house, and I got out and trudged to the back door.  Mom met me with a package from Freeport, Maine.  I opened the package carefully.  The boots might not be the right size.  I might need the packing slip so we could return them.  I got the shoes off and hauled on the boots.  Bean Boots could be pulled on because they had a leather loop in the back just for that purpose.  My feet floated in them, as they were two sizes too large.  Well, I could always wear extra socks, and my feet would grow.  We did not return the boots!  I am sure L.L. Bean sold many boots before that day in late 1943 and many since.  I dare to say they never sold a pair any more beautiful or any more appreciated than mine!  Neat story that reminded me of one of the pair of boots that I had purchased at one time...years ago.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.