Bob's Early Memories

EARLY MEMORIES - AGE 2

I arrived early in the morning on Tuesday, April 7, 1931 at Manchester Memorial Hospital in Manchester, Connecticut. Though I cannot vouch for this based upon memory, records at the Town Hall in Manchester indicate this to be true.Within a few days and for the next thirty years, my address was 28 East Middle Turnpike in Manchester.

During the first five years, I was the only child. Life was good. I had loving parents and wonderful next door neighbors, the Sonniksen's, who always welcomed me into their home. Though the country was in the midst of the Great Depression, my family pretty much escaped the trials and tribulations of that sad period in our nation's history. We lived in the house that my parents had purchased at the time of their marriage in 1928, my father continued be employed at a local bank, and we always had a car.

My earliest memory and this must have been when I was only two, was the homemade fence around our backyard which my kind and loving parents had constructed especially for me. This apparently failed in its purpose because very shortly after the construction of the fence I remember a harness being placed around my upper body with a rope attached. Neither of these lasted very long though both made good sense at the time considering what my parents were dealing with.

My next memory was a visit that I made to the gasoline station near the corner of our street. This was about a quarter of a mile from our house. I think I was still less than three at the time. My eyes soon spotted an unattended white container which probably had about a five gallon capacity filled to the brim with beautiful black oil. Most likely the oil had been removed from cars during oil changes. What happened next involved what was probably my greatest exertion of energy since the day I was born. The effort was successful. As I saw the oil spreading out on the ground in front of the station, I had the good sense to realize that, with the task completed, there was no need to dillydally. I was home in no time. At supper that evening, I resisted any temptation that I may have had to talk about my visit to the corner gasoline station.

Wasn't this a great read? Bob presented his story in a fashion that was easy to imagine. I wonder if he ever told his parents about his visit to the gas station?

Copyright © 2008 by The Write Workshop. All rights reserved.