Tag: memories

Family memories #MFRWauthor

Navy was my dad's lifeI have a very small family. I’m an only child. In Jack’s family, his parents had his brother and him, and neither Jack nor his brother aspired to having children. So if I want to ask about memories, I have few choices.

Of those few people, there are some interesting experiences. My grandfather came from Lithuania when he was a baby, and through Ellis Island. My grandmother spoke nothing but German until she went to school and grew up in the farming communities of South Dakota. On my dad’s side, his parents grew up and married deep in the mountains around Asheville, North Carolina, when horses and wagons were the mode of transportation for getting farm products to town. But I think the person I’d like to talk to again, given the chance, is my dad.

He got his sister to sign enlistment papers so he could join the Navy before he was 18, and he stayed in for more than 20 years. That’s what I’d like to ask him about. Growing up, I rarely heard him talk about anything Navy related. He really much for talking at all, really. But I would like to know what standing watch was like, how did it feel in the middle of the ocean, knowing there was nothing but water for hundreds of miles, in any direction. How did it feel in a storm? What did he feel when he rose in the morning to a sunrise over the sea, or think about the adage “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning”? Is that true?

Dad worked as a boiler tender, deep in the bowels of the both destroyers Destroyerand aircraft carriers and far below the water line. Did he ever have any harrowing experiences? What was it like working in those conditions? How did he sleep in an area filled with other guys, and did he get homesick?

Dad was on ships that cruised both the Atlantic and the Pacific. I wonder what was different about them, and how it felt visiting ports of call all over the world. There’s so much I’d like to know now. Why didn’t I ever ask him about his life and memories? I guess because as a child I wasn’t interested, and as an adult I figured there would always be time.

So, whose memories would you like to probe (or wish you had probed)? If you still have the chance to ask questions, don’t let the opportunity pass!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

5 Top Childhood Memories #MFRWauthor

My childhood is somewhat different than most of y’all’s in that I had polio as a baby. Most people nowadays don’t know what polio is—or was, since Shrinersit’s mostly been eradicated here in the U.S. I was lucky. One leg and my back were affected, and even luckier, my godfather was a Shriner, so as soon as I stabilized and reached the age the Shrine Hospitals would take me, he got me in. The Shriners were like my fairy godmothers throughout my life. I can’t think of a finer organization! So thank you Shriners! I mention all that because having polio is part of my childhood and my memories. So here goes…

  1. Going from Iowa (home) to see the doctors at the Shrine Hospital in Minneapolis. My great uncle Richard lived in Minneapolis, so Mom and I would stay with him when we went up, and we always went by train since it was a heck of a long drive and Mom only had a couple of days off work. Uncle Richard was a giant of a man who cussed worse than any sailor I knew but who but soft as a marshmallow inside. I loved him. He changed girlfriends often, and frequently we stayed in one of their apartments instead of with him (maybe why he changed girlfriends so often?). I remember staying in his place once and he told mom that he’d left fish in the refrigerator for dinner. When she opened the door there was a WHOLE fish, uncleaned in the fridge! Going up to see him was such an adventure, it made going to the hospital almost fun.
  2. Spending time with my grandparents. In Sioux City, we lived just across town from my grandparents—Mom’s mom and dad. My grandmother backed the best pies in the world, especially tart cherry from cherries picked in her backyard. But my grandfather—Papa—Papawas my favorite person in the world. He was my mom’s stepfather and I guess he’d always wanted children, and then he got me. I rode him around the living room like a horse, danced while standing on his feet, and watched TV with him while sitting on his stomach. Nothing I did was wrong or bad as far as he was concerned. I loved that man with all my heart!
  3. Moving to Philadelphia. When Mom married my stepfather, we moved to Philly where he took a training course for a few months. Having lived in Iowa, I’d never seen a black person before. I walked into my new classroom in the first grade and there were only three white kids in the class. Quite a shock. But such fun. I learned how to double Dutch jump rope in that class (even in a brace up to my thigh), and one of the girls introduced me to soft pretzels from a vendor who came by the schoolyard at recess. When my mom walked me to school, we met a boy in my class whose grandmother walked him to school. He was always dressed so well, with a beautiful coat and matching cap. We met up at one corner and he took my hand and walked me the last two blocks while Mom and his grandmother watched. The reverse happened after school. His name was William. I never knew his last name but I’ve never forgotten him and his kindness.
  4. Learning how to ride a bike. After Philly, we moved to Alameda, California. Dad’s duty took him to Asia on his sea tours, and on his last he brought back a beautiful blue bike. He was on the Midway and had First bikealready flattened the tired once by riding the bike all over the flight deck when he could. I was so excited over that bicycle I couldn’t see straight Soooo…he taught me to ride but not to stop. I used to run into things—fences, trees, etc.—in order to stop instead of using the brakes. Don’t judge. I’m a slow learner. We took that bike with us to Virginia, our next duty station, and I rode it for years.
  5. Going home. I had many stays in hospitals, going from hospital visits in Minneapolis to surgery in San Francisco and a stay for more than two months to several surgeries in Greenville, SC with stays more than two months for each. Once, when the stay was for more like three and a half, I had had surgery and therapy and was wondering when I might go home. We were coming back from the schoolroom when we rounded a corner and there were my parents! I dropped my crutches and started crying. They hugged me, helped me pack up and said I was going home right then, that day. It was the greatest feeling. I don’t think I stopped smiling all the way back to Virginia Beach.

These aren’t all the childhood memories of course, just the ones that jumped out at me. Except for polio, I had a somewhat charmed childhood—no broken bones or broken hearts. I had people who loved me and people to love. It was a good time and I’ve been blessed.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!