1960's Archives - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

When Guns Were Fun

There was a time when a kid could watch a Saturday morning ad and immediately know what he wanted next: a Dick Tracy gun set.

Mattel’s Dick Tracy line included the Snub-Nose .38 pistol with a holster and the Tommy Burst Machine Gun, both tied into the famous comic-strip detective. The ad was pure early-1960s kid fantasy: a young boy playing detective, saving the day, and turning the living room into a crime-fighting headquarters while Dad tried to read the paper.

The Snub-Nose .38 was the kind of toy that made a kid feel like an undercover detective. Add the shoulder holster, and suddenly you weren’t just playing cops and robbers — you were Dick Tracy. The Tommy Burst took it even further, giving kids the look of an old gangster-era machine gun, except now the kid was the good guy chasing the crooks. Collectors still identify the Tommy Burst as part of Mattel’s early-1960s Dick Tracy toy line.

Watching those ads now, it is almost shocking how casually toy guns were sold to children. No disclaimers, no bright orange tips, no nervous wording. It was just “here’s the cool detective gear,” and every kid understood the assignment. Back then, toy guns were part of cowboy shows, police shows, war toys, spy kits, detective sets, and neighborhood games that lasted until the streetlights came on.

Of course, times changed. Today an ad like that would probably cause a committee meeting before it ever made it to TV. But for kids of that era, the Dick Tracy Snub-Nose and Tommy Burst weren’t about violence. They were about imagination, sound effects, hiding behind the sofa, and yelling “I got ’em!” before your mother told you to take it outside.

Did you have one of these Dick Tracy guns — or was this the kind of toy you circled in the catalog and never got?

The Rifleman

If you grew up on TV westerns, The Rifleman was one of the shows that stood out right from the opening.

The series premiered on ABC on Tuesday, September 30, 1958, and ran until April 8, 1963. It aired for five seasons, with 168 black-and-white episodes, starring Chuck Connors as Lucas McCain and Johnny Crawford as his son, Mark.

The story was set in the fictional town of North Fork, New Mexico Territory, where Lucas McCain was a widowed rancher raising his son while also helping keep order when trouble came to town. He was not the sheriff, but with that specially modified Winchester rifle, he was usually the man everyone looked to when things got dangerous.

What made the show different was the father-and-son relationship. Yes, there were outlaws, gunfights, cattlemen, drifters, and plenty of western action, but at the center of it was Lucas trying to raise Mark with a strong sense of right and wrong. For a half-hour western, it often had a lot of heart.

And then there was that opening. Lucas McCain walking into the street and firing that rifle so fast it almost became the show’s signature before the story even began. If you watched it as a kid, that image stayed with you.

The Rifleman had the action kids wanted, but it also had a moral lesson built into many episodes. Lucas was tough, but he was also a father first. That gave the show something a little different from the usual shoot-’em-up western.

Did you watch The Rifleman when it first aired, or did you catch it later in reruns? And were you more interested in the fast rifle, or the way Lucas and Mark stuck together?

The Lone Ranger: “Hi-Yo, Silver!” and the TV Western That Started Early

Before TV westerns took over the 1950s, The Lone Ranger was already riding across the small screen.

The series premiered on ABC on Thursday, September 15, 1949, making it one of the early major television westerns. It ran until 1957, with 221 episodes over five seasons. Clayton Moore played the Lone Ranger for most of the series, with Jay Silverheels as Tonto. John Hart briefly took over the role of the Lone Ranger during part of the run.

The character had already been famous from radio, but television gave kids the mask, the white horse, the silver bullets, and that famous call: “Hi-Yo, Silver!” The setup was simple and memorable. A Texas Ranger survives an ambush, puts on a mask, and rides with Tonto to fight outlaws and help people in trouble.

Looking back, The Lone Ranger had everything a kid could want in a western: a hero with a secret identity, a loyal horse, a trusted partner, clear-cut villains, and a story where good usually won before the half hour was over. It wasn’t complicated, and that was part of the appeal.

For many viewers, Clayton Moore became the Lone Ranger. He carried the role so strongly that even decades later, people still pictured him when they heard the William Tell Overture or the words, “Who was that masked man?”

Did you watch The Lone Ranger when it first aired, or did you catch it later in reruns? And when you heard “Hi-Yo, Silver, away!” did you want a mask and a horse of your own?

Did you have Shark Pack?

I felt that changing the discs to make it do different maneuvers meant you might as well have pushed it by hand. Was I wrong?

Shark Pack was a 1970s toy boat line from Ideal, and the big feature was its interchangeable program discs. Instead of radio control, you put in a disc, set the boat loose, and it would follow a preset pattern, turning or circling depending on which disc you used.

For the time, that was a pretty clever idea. It gave kids a way to “program” the boat before home computers and remote-control toys became common. The commercial made it look exciting, with the boats cutting through the water and changing direction on command.

Like a lot of toys from that era, the real fun probably depended on where you used it and what you expected from it. If you had a pool, pond, or enough room to let it run, Shark Pack may have been a lot of fun. If you were expecting total control, the disc-changing part may have felt a little less magical.

That’s why I’m curious. Did Shark Pack really live up to the ad, or was it one of those toys that looked better on TV?

Mighty Mouse: Here He Comes To Save The Day

Mighty Mouse Playhouse first aired on CBS Saturday mornings, beginning December 10, 1955. That date is important because the show helped put the idea of Saturday morning cartoons on the map.

Mighty Mouse had actually started earlier in theatrical cartoons from Terrytoons, debuting in the 1942 short The Mouse of Tomorrow. But TV is what made him a household name. CBS repackaged the older Mighty Mouse cartoons for television, and suddenly kids could see him right at home instead of at the movie theater.

The show had everything kids loved: a tiny hero with super strength, flying rescues, villains, danger, and that unforgettable theme line: “Here I come to save the day!” Mighty Mouse usually showed up just in time to save the helpless and defeat the bad guys.

Looking back, Mighty Mouse Playhouse feels simple now, but it was a big deal. It helped prove that Saturday morning could belong to kids, cereal bowls, pajamas, and cartoons.

The Time Tunnel: Friday Night Time Travel in 1966

If you were watching ABC on Friday nights in 1966, you might remember The Time Tunnel, one of those big-concept science fiction shows that seemed made for kids and adults who liked a little adventure with their history.

The series premiered on Friday, September 9, 1966, and ran for one season. It came from producer Irwin Allen, the same name behind shows like Lost in Space and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, so you knew there would be danger, dramatic music, flashing control rooms, and cliffhangers.

The story followed two scientists, Dr. Tony Newman, played by James Darren, and Dr. Doug Phillips, played by Robert Colbert. They become trapped in time after entering a secret government time-travel project. Back at the Time Tunnel control center, the scientists could see where they were, but could not always bring them home.

That was the hook. Each week, Tony and Doug landed in a different moment in history. Sometimes it was the distant past, sometimes a famous disaster, sometimes a war, and sometimes a future setting. For a young viewer, it felt like history class had been turned into an adventure serial.

The show only lasted 30 episodes, ending in April 1967, but it had the kind of idea that stayed with people. Two men lost in time, jumping from one crisis to another, while everyone back at the tunnel tried to save them.

Looking back, The Time Tunnel had that unmistakable 1960s TV sci-fi feel: colorful sets, serious scientists, dramatic countdowns, and a sense that anything could happen once the tunnel started glowing.

Did you watch The Time Tunnel when it first aired, or did you find it later in reruns? And did you ever think Tony and Doug were actually going to make it home?

Before Snoopy Was Shaving Ice, There Was Ice Bird

Before the Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine became the one everyone remembers, Kenner had Ice Bird, a 1974 toy that promised kids they could make their own icy treats at home.

The idea was simple and very 1970s: put in the ice, shave it down, pack it into little balls, and pour on the flavored syrup. Suddenly, you weren’t just eating a frozen treat. You were running your own little snowball stand from the kitchen table.

The commercial made it look easy, clean, and exciting, which is exactly what a good toy commercial was supposed to do. But like a lot of food-making toys from that era, the big question is whether it worked as well in real life as it did on TV. Did the ice shave smoothly? Did the syrup go everywhere? Did you end up with a perfect treat, or just a sticky mess?

Still, Ice Bird had that great kid-powered appeal. It took something ordinary, ice from the freezer, and turned it into something that felt special. And for a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons, “make your own ice balls” sounded like a pretty big deal.

Did you have Ice Bird? And did it live up to the commercial?

It’s Thursday night in 1966/67. What’s on ABC?

It’s Thursday night in 1966/67. What’s on ABC? Bewitch at 8:30, Love on a Rooftop at 9:00 and That Girl at 9:30.

When Even Toilet Paper Had Style

Today, designers tell us how to fluff a couch, karate chop a throw pillow, stack coffee table books, and make a room look “curated.”

But somehow, we lost designer toilet paper.

Back in the 60s and 70s, bathrooms had personality. Pink sinks, blue tubs, avocado tile, fuzzy toilet lid covers, and yes, toilet paper that matched. You could buy pastel rolls and even printed patterns to go with the bathroom decor.

Nobody needed a TV designer to explain it. Mom knew. Grandma knew. The toilet paper matched the room.

Then colored toilet paper faded away. Concerns over dyes, perfumes, septic systems, the environment, and cost helped make plain white the standard.

Now everything in the house can be designer, except the one thing that used to quietly tie the whole bathroom together.

Maybe the 70s had it right after all.

Who had a Secret Sam?

With all it could do, there were still many other toys I wanted more. I remember seeing the commercials and thinking it looked impressive, but I wasn’t sure it would live up to the way it looked on TV.

Secret Sam was a Topper Toys spy set from the mid-1960s, right when James Bond, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and secret-agent gadgets were everywhere. The big item was the Secret Sam Attaché Case, a black briefcase that hid a toy gun setup inside. It could be used as a pistol, converted into a rifle, fitted with a silencer, and even fired from inside the case. Some versions also had a message missile and a small working camera.

So did it live up to expectations? Probably yes if you were deep into spy play and had a good imagination. But if you expected it to work exactly like a TV spy gadget, maybe not. Like a lot of toys from that era, the commercial did most of the heavy lifting.

Looking back, Secret Sam was the kind of toy that looked incredible under the Christmas tree, but the real fun depended on how much secret-agent adventure you could create around it.