Nocona Athletic Goods Lament

By Bill Spencer

Driving by the flaming Nokona Athletic Goods on the way to work was heart wrenching.  From Clay Street, one can look west down West Pine and see the north side of the building with great ease.  The flames were boiling out of the structure, and black smoke was drifting with the prevailing wind off to the north.  As I headed to my office, I noticed a small traffic jam on Clay as on-lookers tried to get close enough to watch the event.  Pulling into my parking place at work, I had the sudden realization that this was one of the worst things that I have ever seen (felt).  Then for several minutes I reflected on the factory, the employees, and the family who owns it.  Especially vivid were memories (and feelings) of growing up next door to the factory during the fifties.

For kids growing up in the neighborhood near West Pine and Young Streets, the “Leather Goods,” as we called it then, was a great place to play.  The building was surrounded by a cedar hedge that could be a good place to hide if one did not mind the itchy feeling that the foliage left on your skin.

Then we rode our bicycles and pushed skateboards on the sidewalks surrounding the factory and used the loading dock to ramp off of.  Looking back, it is strange to think that not one time did any factory official try to run us kids away.  In fact the members of the Storey Family who we grew to recognize would usually speak to us with a soft spoken “hello.”  The owners and workers were just mild mannered adults with the skill to turn leather into valuable, utilitarian, and long lasting athletic equipment. Nevertheless neighborhood kids thought the employees and especially the owners were VIPs.

We all knew the daily schedule of Leather Goods employees coming to work, going to lunch and then going home because bicyclists had to avoid the streets around the Leather Goods at these times.  Mini-traffic jams saw dozens of cars lined up along West Pine, waiting to enter Clay Street during these transition periods.  The Nocona style “rush hour” was only a few minutes long, but impatient kids always have a different concept of time.

The Leather Goods always had a unique smell, a smell that was not unpleasing, arguably pleasant.  Just like the taste of an unusual food that tends to grow on the consumer until he or she develops a strong preference for the cuisine over time.  That is what the smell of the Leather Goods was like: a mild, musty odor from leather mixed with a few other unknown chemicals.  Of course the smell of leather is quite refreshing after one gets use to the odor.  It is like holding your old baseball mitt up to your face and taking a strong whiff of it. The leather’s odor becomes associated with doing fun things; consequently, a person becomes conditioned to think that leather fragrance is a good thing.  That is exactly what happened to kids who lived near the factory. The leather smell equals sports, and sports equal fun.  Of course, adults might be thinking: “The Leather Goods equals good jobs and good jobs equal good pay.”  Either train of thought created positive mental associations with the smell of leather.

Kids like me all had their own Nokona baseball glove or mitt by the time they were old enough to play Little League.  If one ever owned another brand, then bought a Nokona glove, one would know how much better the later was.  Nokona mitts were simply made to last forever.  There was an unspoken rule among boys that one simply did not show up for ball practice with anything but a Nokona glove. Without that certain brand on your glove, you were thought to be not very serious about playing ball.

Young boys practiced summer baseball in white T-shirts, Levis with holes in the knees, and worn out high-topped sneakers.  Nonetheless, everyone seemed to have a fairly new Nokona baseball glove.  Summer baseball was a right of passage for boys and most parents were willing to invest money in this important and rewarding learning experience.

Circa 1960, The Leather Goods Little League Team was one of eight other local teams including the Boot Company, Rotary Club, Lions Club, Montague, Spanish Fort, Ringgold, and Mercer’s.  Leather Goods players wore blue caps and blue trim on their uniforms prior to the time that they became the Nokona Athletic Goods.  The other teams marveled at their superior equipment which was for the most part all made right here in Nocona.  A rather large, beautifully handcrafted catcher’s mitt caught my eye once when my team played the Leather Goods.  The mitt seemed to be bigger than the 10 year old catcher holding it; consequently, the strike zone for Leather Goods pitchers was made to appear bigger than home plate because of this monster-glove.

The big factory was within one-half a block of my boyhood home.  I could look out any door or window on the east side of the house and count every car in the parking lot.  The factory always symbolized stability and certainty in my mind.  After one rides his bicycle around a place enough times, it actually becomes part of one’s psyche.  Looking out the screen door to see the Leather Goods was like sitting on our comfortable, old divan, while drinking a 6 ounce Dr. Pepper and eating a snickers bar.  The big building was comfort food for the eyes.

On week days, I marveled at all the cars that parked on three sides of the structure.  That many cars could mean that there were more than a hundred employees inside, an unimaginably large number to a young kid.  Then on Saturdays and Sundays I wandered the lonely parking lots or climbed on the loading docks of the factory if there was nothing else to do.  The empty building on week ends was still a friend, an entity, and a presence.

Psychologists talk about one’s inner child that continues to exist, even as one becomes an adult.  This persona carries the memories, feelings, and strong emotions from our youth.  All the residents who grew up with the Nokona Athletic Goods as part of their lives must have felt a strong emptiness after the structure burned.  A collective grief, a vague feeling of loss and a blow to each one’s inner child must have staggered citizens and ex-citizens alike where ever they are in the world today.

However, the inner child is a survivor, and it can handle the truth, even if it is painful.  The burning of the Nocona Athletic Goods could not incinerate the fond memories (feelings) that we had growing up next door to the factory.  These thoughts still sweep in and bring with them the nostalgic sights, sounds, and even the smells associated with the old cinder block building.

The factory will surely be reborn and a new Nokona Athletic Goods will continue the traditions of exquisite leather crafting. However, vivid memories of the old building will stay alive as well, in articles like this one, or in remembrances passed by word of mouth.  Also, those who grew up in Nocona will always have the indelible feelings from their own inner child.  Feelings are always stronger than memories, and these feelings will live on.

Bill.Spencer@noconaisd.net