The Laundromat
Back in the day, not many families had their own washer and dryer. I remember a few had a wringer washer and the laundry was hung out to dry, summer and winter. Winter laundry would freeze and I was always fascinated by the shapes it took like paper doll clothes. Reeling it in and placing it in the basket was an art on to itself. Once the clothing sat indoors for a few minutes it would soften and take the shape it was meant to be. Best of all was the lovely fresh smell that filled the room.
My mother believed in pre-treating. The night before our trip to the Laundromat meant that Mom would put all the whites to soak in the bathtub. Early the next morning, she would wring out each and every item and throw it in a forest green garbage bag. I would then help her to literally drag it through the back lane to the Laundromat. We would choose two machines and divide the wet laundry into each and then add a small cup of detergent through the dispenser at the top. Next Mom would put in a few coins (perhaps two quarters?) and slide it in. We always held our breath at this moment because sometimes the machine ate the money. It was always disappointing when we didn't hear the familiar swooshing sound of the water coming in. This meant a trip to the front office and a possible confrontation. The caretaker, most often than not, would lead the way grumbling about how people misuse the machines. No sooner would we get back to the machine than we would hear the jingle of his keys as he pulled them from his pocket and proceeded to open up the coin box, take out two quarters, place them back onto the coin slide and start the machine. We quickly sat in the closest chairs and watched as he strode off grumbling under his breath. The industrial washers were front loading with a window. I would sit there for half an hour and watch the soap make patterns on the glass and then watch the clean water wash them away. Some of the older machines would develop leaks and soapy water would squeeze onto the floor. I would run for the mop and quickly wipe it up. Many Finnish people had what we called 'rag' mats. These were long household mats woven on a loom from strips of cloth laboriously cut from old clothing. Big signs, on the machines, warned customers to not wash rag mats because they were too heavy and most often than not, the machine would break.
When the weather was very cold Mom did not hang laundry out to freeze. Instead we would go towards the back of the Laundromat and throw it all into one of the huge drum dryers. Since we had two wash loads, it meant we had two dryer loads. Sometimes people would load their dryers full to the top hoping to save that extra 25 cents. However the clothing did not dry and either they had to put in more money or the dryer would come to a grinding halt because of overload. This was something you did not want to see especially if the person went and complained to the caretaker. Once again he would stride to the back grumbling louder than ever and lecture the person as he pulled the wet clothing from the broken down dryer and threw it into one that was not in use. He divided the laundry into two batches and refused to put in a quarter from his own pocket. This left two disgruntled individuals and a choice for the customer to either put in his money or take the wet clothing and walk out disgusted. I would just sit on the bench facing the line of dryers and quietly watch the events unfold. The owner never backed down and offended parties would return the next week because this was the only Laundromat in close proximity to the Bay/Algoma area.
The Laundromat was a meeting place and frankly a source of entertainment. Often we would run into someone from our neighbourhood and the time would pass quickly with conversation.