Sneak Peek, "On Being a Southender, Vol. 1, 2009"

May Baskets and the Cold War

(This was the most popular blog of 2009)

It was the Cold War of the 50s. McCarthy was holding court in Washington. We saw Communists under every rock. In the USSR, Uncle Ivan was showing his muscles and threatening world war. Then along comes May 1 and in Russia they get all their big guns and tanks out and polish them to a bright shine so they’ll look good on T.V. Every soldier they had got out his boots and also gave them a good spit polish. Then all the tanks and guns and troops lined up and marched past the Kremlin so the big bosses of the Communist Party could give their approval and gloat at the rest of the world.

While all this folderol was going on in the land of the hammer and sickle, we celebrated May 1 or May Day in the South End, but in a very different way—with May baskets. Next to Halloween, it was one of my favorite days. Most of these baskets were handmade of crepe paper, tissue paper, ribbons and such. Some of the older women in the neighborhood with time on their hands made a cottage industry out of making May baskets. They were small enough to fit in a child’s hand, all were one-of-a-kind, and all were works of art.

So what did we do with these beautiful pastel May baskets? Well, we would fill them with a small amount of candy, usually some kind of dinner mints, and hang them on the doors of our friends, knock, and run. The fun part was getting away with it. They would come and hang one on your doorknob while you were sneaking around elsewhere. The excitement came afterward when you counted how many you had and how different each one was. The candy inside was a side attraction. I treasured my baskets and kept them long after May Day. They were delicate, however, and eventually they would fall apart or get all squashed up from overuse by the owner. Then we’d have to wait till the next May Day to get new ones.

I don’t imagine they still carry on this tradition in the South End. I would be thrilled if they did. Maine is the only place I have found that celebrated May Day in this fashion. When I went to school downeast, my landlady, Effie, was one of those ladies who made May baskets. I wish I had one of them now.

I don’t know what happened to all the ones I got over the years. If anyone has one or a picture of one, I’d love to see it. Remembering May baskets, I can’t help but think that perhaps our hippie flower children friends of the 60s weren’t far off when they stuck flowers in the barrels of guns. Guns and Roses and May baskets from Maine. My kind of world.

Thanks for listening.

(After this blog posted I heard from my sister, Sally, out in Arizona. She polled her women’s sewing club and discovered there were pockets of places in the U.S. that carried on this tradition too. Women from places as diverse as Michigan, California, and North Carolina said they had celebrated May Day this way.)