rymrytr: RymRytr means rhyme writer (Default)
[personal profile] rymrytr
For those that remember me from LJ, I know it's been a while... the reason is that I retired a few years back and, for the first time in my life, I had to face responsibility.

To clarify, I've spent most of my life being "foot loose". From my most earliest memories, we traveled. By the time I graduated from High School, I had changed schools, 17 times. My record was four schools in the fourth grade. I didn't attend a full year in one school, until the ninth grade... near Fort Walton Beach, FLA.

I first recall a porch in Bartlesville OK. I was about to be 6 years old that December, 1950. It was October I know, because I remember my Dad walking me along and then pointing up to the second floor windows where my Mom waived at me. It was the hospital, and on the 22nd, she gave birth to my Sister.

My next memory is a one-room school house in Dee, Oregon. It was a place for the children of the transient/migrant workers. More of a "day care" than a school. My Mom told me that there were a dozen or so kids, of various ages.

While she picked Pears, (that makes it about August of 1951 because the harvest is: Cherries in July; Pears in August; Apples in September) - my dad worked on the new "highway". Then it was Hiway 30 = now US 84. It runs east along the Columbia River from Portland, past Hood River, (where we and my Grandparents lived), until it separates from the Columbia near Boardman, and runs sort of Southwest to Pendleton and all points beyond.

My Dad had worked for Top Hand Dairy in B'ville, Okla, as an Ice Man. This never set well with my Mom, as he was a Marine, just a few years separated from the US Marine Corp and WWII. A good-looking guy, physically fit, handsome and naively, overly friendly.

He would pull out a 40 lb block, swing it up onto his leather shoulder apron, and go into each and every kitchen on his route. There he would chip off the right-sized chunk to fit into the top of the "Ice Box". Refrigerators were new and expensive and most people couldn't afford them anyway. My Mom was always a jealous lady! >grin<

That fall, they let me start the First Grade at the Coe Street Primary in Hood River. We had found an apartment in an area called "The Heights". Life was different in those days. At 6 yrs old I walked alone, the mile or so to school, and again, back home.

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I started this, inspired by reading WCG, who posted about his career, wife, and daughter, back when I had a Live Journal Account! Thanks Bill!
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