The Dining Room Table
After WWII, the number and size of families exploded in America. The Baby Boom generation grew up around the the family dining room table, a tradition which dates back to the Victorian era in England. While kitchens had their place along side the very popular pantries, the dining room table held the most prominent place in the household.
During the early 1950’s, growing up in the Central West End of St. Louis, I experienced the power of the dining room table first hand. A strict protocol governed the use of the Table. If grandparents visited for dinner, no children attended. If my parents entertained guests for a social dinner, no children attended. In fact, an adage from the Great Depression nicely describes the hierarchy:”Children should be seen, not heard.”
As the eldest of six children, necessarily I spent only a short time at the kids table in the kitchen. There, the kids would eat with supervision from the family cook, while our parents ate at the big table in the dining room. As a good Catholic family, our numbers grew quickly placing intense pressure on the kids table. This development led to my, presumably early, escape from the kids table to the dining room table.
It is difficult to overstate the dramatic boost in my family status as a result of the dining table ascension. Jealousy reigned supreme throughout the ranks of my siblings who were reminded each evening that they ate in one place and the “adults” in another. Over time, however, my sister and a few brothers joined me at the big Table and by the mid-1960’s we had begun to serve ourselves from piping hot serving dishes placed strategically around the Table.
One evening, as we all stood at our respective places, my father began to say grace in the customary manner. Almost imperceptibly, several of the older children began to lower their hands toward the table in search of the serving utensils. Their goal was to get a jump on everyone else in order to capture the largest possible helping of food.
Regrettably, my father noticed these rows of descending hands and fingers headed towards the food. He stopped saying grace, eyeballed each of the offenders and remained still for an eternity. Finally, he finished grace as we all took our seats. No one required an explanation; this was how it worked at the dining room table.