Throwback Time: The Convertible High Chair, and a Family Story

How many of you remember a high chair like this from your childhood?

We had one for my younger brothers and sisters, which would place it in the late 1950's-early 60's, but it was already well-used when we got it. My research indicates that it was probably new in the mid-1940's.

These chairs were pretty clever; they folded over to become a child's play table with attached chair,

and had rollers too. So theoretically, I suppose, if the footrest was removed this could function as a very cumbersome walker for the child with legs stout enough to push it around. The table still had milk dried on it, in the shape and size of the bottom of a baby's bottle, when we got it.

There are latches to hold it in the upright position.

Hinges in the front allow the chair to fold up, so the bottom flips to become the table.

We found it in a thrift shop; it needed lots of cleaning and a minor repair, and now it's just as cute as can be.

The label says "Honeysuckle" and Sears, Roebuck and Co. Remember when that was the full name for the company? It had a tray at one point but apparently some past owner thought it wasn't needed and removed both the tray and the hardware to secure it.

This will go to a booth when the weather improves, and I don't expect it to sell quickly as it will require just the right buyer, but it sure will bring back memories for many shoppers.

This chair reminds me of something that happened when my brother Stephen was a baby. He was in a walker, one of those metal-framed with a red and white striped seat, that folded easily. The legs of the walker were supposed to lock in place when the walker unfolded but weren't very trustworthy.

Anyway Stephen, who was about two years old, I think, was wheeling around in the kitchen, near the door to the basement. We usually kept one of those folding child safety gates across the entrance to the basement steps, and the door was usually closed and locked to prevent any accidents because the steps were very steep, and ended almost right up against the big sandstone blocks that formed the foundation of the house and the  basement wall.

It was near dinnertime, so the kitchen was a-bustle. Mom was cooking, some of us were setting the table, others were washing dishes. Dad wasn't home from work yet, I'm sure, because we would not have been allowed in the kitchen if he was home. He would have been in there, having his after-work tea and reading the paper while he and Mom chatted about their day. That was their time, and we weren't allowed in there.

So on this evening I'm talking about, Dad had not yet come home. I remember Mom being hot from the stove and a little cross,not surprising with all the general uproar. Then she looked up and shouted something and we all looked--and saw the walker fold up and pitch Stephen down the basement steps.

The noise was terrible--the clatter-clatter-clatter of that walker as it too fell down the oak steps, the sound of Stephen's little body thunking down ahead of it--and then the silence when they both landed in a pile on the concrete floor below. Then we were all yelling and running for the stairs, and I remember looking down from the top of the steps while someone (can't remember who) ran down. Then we heard Stephen, laughing!

He was fine. We could not believe it. The tension broke and everyone was laughing and crying and trying to hug Stephen when he was carried back upstairs.

Mom tossed that walker in the trash that very evening. I think we were all glad to see it go.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.