We Are Our Memories

It has been suggested that I take each five years from my life and write about my most vivid memories from that time. Sounds good to me. I can use old photos to jolt my memory and take excerpts from an autobiographical story that I wrote nearly thirty years ago.

Attached is my baby picture. I was born at Plainville, IN a little over 90 years ago. Dad worked at a machine shop there. Of course I can’t remember the event, but the photo indicates the very beginning of my life.

A short time later we moved to Westphalia, IN where Dad worked as a mechanic at a Chevrolet dealership. My kid brother, Chuck, was born there in January. 1923. I don’t remember that that event either.

My very first memory is of my baby sister’s (Lavon) birth in March, 1925. We lived on the main street in the tiny town of Sandborn, IN. Dad was working as a mechanic for the J.W. Shanks garage and machine shop at that time.

My Aunt Audrey came to assist Mom with Lavon’s birth.  Her husband and three children came with her. My three cousins, my brother, Chuck, and I were instructed to stay outside.  Mischievously, we tried to push Uncle Roy’s Model T. We managed to move it and one of the rear wheels ran over my foot. I wasn’t really hurt, but let out yell as if I were. One of my cousins ran into the house screaming that I had been ran over. Mom was certain that I had been killed. And I’m certain Lavon entered this world, before the doctor could get there to help with her arrival .