My earliest memory is sitting on top of my father's shoulders along side of the park, I must have been very small as I could hardly see over his thick black hair and my brother Galen, a year older, was being lead below by my mother. The next memory was standing beside a rocking horse on the back porch. To me it was huge, taller than me. I was fussing to have my turn. When they removed my brother Galen I was placed on it. I was on top of the world. Another memory was of popcorn. I could hear corn popping in a pan high above on the stove. I was puzzled how food could jump up and down. My last memory of my bottle was of a neighbor kid taking it and heading down the ally where they had dug a huge whole, to me it was big enough to disappear into.
We were very poor. Christmas was an unbelievable time. I remember a loud knock on the door. Dad announced that Santa Claus had left something on the porch for Galen and I. To me that must have been some stranger. We opened up the door and two life size dolls were there, a bit bigger than me. I have no other memory of them. But Christmas for me and Galen was often provided by my bother Wally. He had a paper route very early. The next year he bought me a baby doll. It was my treasure until it dissolved when I was an adult. He also bought me a doll house that occupied my time for years.
Wally made model airplanes from balsa wood and tissue paper that he flew in the park. That was fascinating. His biggest challenge in life was his two small siblings. They would get into his room and destroy his planes. I could not understand that because all we did was play with them.
One winter it snowed several feet. That alone was miraculous but Wally built an igloo that I could crawl inside of. To me Wally could build anything. I can see now why he became an engineer. What ever he did he excelled. Even with his handicap of not being able to write fluently he excelled in school. He was built like a wrestler and strong. All the boys would want to fight him. He never lost a fight. He was not only my inspiration he was my protectorate.
I started school at four. My birthday was late but I could tie my shoes. I was independent and confident. The first day of Kindergarden I told my mother I was going alone and did not need her to tag along. To get me to allow her to come she said papers needed to be signed and since I could not yet write she needed to go with me. Kindergarden to me was heaven, so many toys I never even seen before. I excelled and went on to the first grade. It was a breeze, that is until I got sick. Everything would change.
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