My Mother Had a Mangle

Back in the mid-50's my dad inherited a house from our old maid Aunt Mary. It was a beautiful house as I remember it, but that's not the story. In the laundry room there was a machine that would arouse the curiosity of any ten year old boy...a mangle. I had never seen one before. My mother, on the other hand, had supported herself through college by being line-in housekeeper for a "well-off" family and they had one. There was a sparkle in her eye when she realized that she was now a proud owner. Let me set the scene for those of you who are a bit younger.

Back then, if you can believe it, following wash day there was ironing day. No one had thought of permanent press yet or gentle cycles in washing machines. Dryers were just arriving on the household scene and clotheslines were much more common. The clothes came out of the laundry very wrinkled and the solution was...they had to be ironed. Now, I'm guessing you're thinking about the shirts and shorts and pants, ah ha, but what about the sheets. Yes, the height of luxury was ironed sheets. Smooth, sometimes starched, and ready to slither into.

Well you can imagine how long it took to iron a sheet with an iron. Not to mention that, in our house, there were five beds. That meant ten sheets...an almost exasperating job. Unless...you had a mangle.

A mangle is a set of motorized rollers one of which is heated like an iron. You feed the wrinkled item in one side and it comes out the other side smooth. Ten sheets? You could knock that off in a couple hours. It was a miracle. It left enough time in the day to watch "In Search of Tomorrow."

I remember great times "helping" my mom mangle the sheets. Of course I couldn't do it myself because it might crush my arm if it got caught. (Safety is a topic for another day.) I think my two year older sister might have operated it before she left home but why would my mom want to give up running it? It was here touch of luxury.

For most young moms today this would have been the days of their great-grandma. It's a forgotten time, a different time. Ask you grandma about it. Ask her about all the things that made up the work of a mom back then. You'll be amazed. You'll also want to give her an extra hug.