East Grand Plains

East Grand Plains is an area south of Roswell, NM. Of all the places we lived in New Mexico, this is the one clearest in my memory. I suppose that is because it was where we were living when the decision to move to Texas was made. I was nine years old when we went to Pharr. We lived in a couple of places in the area. Mother says we first lived in a shack belonging to some people named Barnes. I remember the Barnes son, Travis, mainly because he had his tonsils out in the same doctor's office we had ours taken out. Anyway, I think this shack was north of the EGP school, but I'm not sure. I remember one occasion when our cousin Eugene Thornton came to visit. He was older than we were, and I didn't like him much. Maybe this is why. He asked us if we wanted to see him make a match burn twice. Of course, ignorant girls that we were, we said sure. I may have been about 6 years old then. He then proceeded to strike the match, making it burn once. Then he blew the fire out, and pressed the hot match to my arm thus making it "burn twice". UGH!

We moved from the shack to a very nice house south of the school. This was a farm owned by Clyde Groceclose, a friend of Mother and Daddy's. Daddy became a share cropper. He farmed and harvested the crops for a portion of the profits. I remember that there was a line of cherry trees on the road running from our house to the neighbors to the east. There was also a resevoir between our houses. One day while going from one house to the other along the path by the reservoir, I saw a huge snake. Daddy said it was a King snake and wouldn't have hurt me. I didn't like it, anyway.

Daddy grew cantaloupes, tomatoes, and black-eyed peas, among other crops. I remember these because we would harvest them and then take them to the Farmer's Market on East Second Street in Roswell to sell. I remember riding on the disc behind the tractor when Daddy was plowing in order to make the furrows deep. I also remember picking the caterpillars off of the tomatoes and killing them with clods of dirt.

We had no indoor bathroom in this house, and we would get to take a bath once a week - usually on Saturday night to get ready for church the next day. Mother would bring in the big galvanized tub and fill it with warm water, then we would, one at a time, jump in the tub and get scrubbed.

One Christmas when we lived there Mother gave us dolls and clothes for them that she had made herself. Another Christmas we got clothes. I remember I got a pink skirt with turquoise figures in it, along with a turquoise sweater. I loved that outfit! Of course Mother had made the skirt herself. The sweater was probably the first store-bought article of clothing I ever had. Speaking of Christmas....at one time when we were small, the Boggs families drew names for gifts. The grownups would draw among themselves, then the kids. We had several cousins our age at that time. There were Jerry, Sherry, and Charlotte Gay (we called her Gay) who were the children of Mother's twin brother Louis. Then there were Larry and Barbara, daughters of Delbert, another of Mother's brothers. I think maybe Pam was born by then, the first daughter of Emaline, Mother's sister. Her other two brothers, Roy Lee and Vernie Ray were too young to be married at the time. I remember the one Christmas we drew names because Barbara got my name, and when we opened our gifts, mine was a pair of cotton panties. I guess I never liked my Aunt Elanor after that. I was so disappointed, because the other girls were getting pretty bracelets or combs, etc. I remember I hid my panties and wouldn't tell what I got! My worst Christmas!!

We were living at EGP during WWII, I know, because there was a prisoner of war camp at Dexter, just down the road from where we were. Daddy contracted to have some of the prisoners, who were Germans, come to the farm and work. I remember them arriving in the back of a big truck. One of the prisoners became friendly with Mother and Daddy. His name was Bruno Gatermann. After the war ended, Mother got a letter from Ann Marie Gatermann, Bruno's wife, in 1946. She was trapped in East Germany with their three children while Bruno was in West Germany. Eventually she and the children escaped to the West and were reunited as a family. In 1975 Bruno and Ann Marie came to the US with one of their sons who was a doctor. They visited with Mother and Daddy in Missouri where we had land at that time. Bruno was an artist and did watercolors. He gave each of us a picture he had painted. I don't remember what happend to mine.

We were all attending the East Grand Plains school during this time - Norma, Carole, and I. I remember the school very well. I remember Norma's teacher, Mrs. Klauntz. There were two teacher who were twins and I thought they were very pretty. I think one was named "JIM", which was a funny name for a woman! I think this was when I picked up my love of the mystery genre. I know I had read every Nancy Drew, Judy Bolton, and Hardy Boys book in the school library before I was nine years old. I had also read the Elsie Dinsmore books, which made me cry! Poor Elsie, the poor little rich orphan! I only remember the names of two of my classmates: Linda Heine and Yvonne or Yvette Whitehead. They were richer than we were as their fathers own their farms while our father was simply a tenant farmer, but they were nice. Kathy is working now in a law office in Roswell with Linda Heine's son, Eric Coll. Kathy says Linda remembers me, too. The school had the only concrete sidewalks in the area, so everyone would go to the school on weekends to skate. There was a big auditorium on a little rise to the west of the school building, and we could coast down the sidewalk slanting from the auditorium to the school. There was a little store across the street to the east from the school that sold school supplies, candy, etc. I remember most the licorice whips we could get - I think two for a penny. A penny was about all we had to spend in those days! I really loved those licorice sticks!

There were swings in the playground at the school, and I remember once I was swinging and someone - probably some mean boy - came up behind me and pushed me so hard I fell out of the swing. I still have a small scar on my forehead from that incident. One day we were outside the house playing on the car. We would climb up to the roof, then slide down the windshield to the hood. We were't supposed to do it, of course, but being kids, we did it anyway. On this particular day the car must have been really slippery because Carole came sliding down to the hood and kept on going to the ground. She broke her collar bone! Poor Carole, I think, was accident prone. She always had something wrong.

We would "go to town" to Roswell every Saturday night to go shopping and maybe see a movie, or to visit Mama and Grandaddy Boggs or Grandma Bagwell. One night when we were returning home, I saw a ghost!! We had to cross a railroad track as we turned off the Dexter/Roswell highway to get to our house. I looked down the railroad track and saw something white floating along the tracks. Everyone said it was just some paper blowing in the wind or some such, but I KNOW it was a ghost!!

During this period I also remember Aunt Pearl and Uncle Babe Goad. Aunt Pearl was Mama Boggs' sister. They lived between EGP and Roswell, off the Dexter/Roswell highway in a pretty house surrounded by grass and trees. It was a very pretty spot. Uncle Babe was a big man and Aunt Pearl was very tiny. She had red hair. They had just one child, a son named Robert. I always enjoyed visiting with them. One of Daddy's sisters, Aunt Leoder, also lived in the area. She and Uncle Luther Thornton and the detestable Eugene lived in a large old house with a porch that ran all around the house. I remember Aunt Leoder had one of those wind-up phonographs that played big thick records. We would wind and wind, and listen to the music. Aunt Leoder would always give us hot tea for breakfast.

We were members of the Calvary Baptist Church in Roswell. Mama Boggs was the Young People's teacher. I remember so many of those young people who were a little younger than Mother and Daddy. There was Helen Naron, the Groceclose girls who were very pretty, Willis Savage, who married Helen Naron, Dorothy Martin who became our aunt when she married Daddy's brother Raymond, Aunt Ruth, Ray Martin who became Uncle Ray when he married Daddy's sister Ruth (no relation to Dorothy Martin), and Vernie Ray and Roy Lee, Mother's brothers. We have a picture of that class, along with the pastor, Brother Brister. I thought his wife was one of the prettiest ladies I ever knew. She had blond hair and was very sweet. Several times the Bristers would come out to our house for Sunday dinner, and I always looked forward to that. We would usually have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetables of some kind, and the crowning glory - HOME MADE ROLLS! Oh, they smelled and tasted so good. They were not that easy to make, so we had them only on special occasions.

It was due to the produce Daddy raised on the farm that we eventually moved to Texas. Most of the produce, especially the cantaloupes, grown on the farms were sold to a packer and shipper named Mr. Post. He had packing sheds all over, and had one in the Rio Grande Valley. I think Daddy wanted more for us than being the daughters of a share-cropper, so he decided to follow Mr. Post's advice and try for a better life in Texas. Incidentally, the twin sister of Great-Grandmother Boggs (Grandaddy Boggs' mother) lived in Mission, Texas at the time. I remember visiting her at one time after we moved to the Valley. The story of our life in the Valley is another long one, which will be told.

Back to the Very Beginning

I have done quite a bit of research, mainly on the internet, into the family trees of the Bagwells and the Boggses. I found that we don’t know a lot about our Bagwell family, but through inference we can piece together an ancestry. I found on one site an “Order of Descendants of Ancient Planters” with references to Bagwells in America around 1616. Two Bagwells, Henry and Thomas, are listed, who survived the Jamestown Massacre of 1622. The survivors of the massacre received the first patents of land in the new world as authorized by Sir Thomas Dale in 1618. A contribution from Sherry Gritzbaugh, researcher, states that the Bagwells of English descent first appeared in the American colonies in Virginia as early as 1608. Two of them, the above mentioned Henry and Thomas, served in the House of Burgess for their respective areas. Bagwells were in the state of North Carolina by the 1760’s.
I have no information which connects Henry and Thomas to the Bagwells in North Carolina, but thought it was interesting that the Bagwell name is associated with the early history of our country. Three or four of the North Carolina Bagwells served in the American Revolution and settled in the Donalds-Honea Path-Princeton area of North Caroline after the war. These were listed as William, Frederick, John, and James Bagwell. Our Bagwell family is attributed to be descendants of James Bagwell (ca1764 – ca 1810). (ca means about and is used when specific dates are not verified by birth or death certificates, etc.) There were at least six Bagwells from this area who served in the war of 1812, including Flurney (Furney), Redmond, William, and John.

Though he has not been actually connected to James Bagwell through documentation, it is believed that Flurney (Furney) Bagwell was his son. Flurney, which henceforth will be known as Furney, was born August 29, 1797, in South Carolina. This information came from the Bible of Parthenia “Parthy” Bayless. Parthy married Furney Bagwell on October 18, 1818. Among their children was George Washington Bagwell, born ca 1833. George married Sara M.J. Lewis in 1855. She died in 1856. Our great-grandfather, Elbert Franklin Bagwell, was born in 1856. The reason I have connected these two is because our Aunt Leoder (Bagwell) Thornton, told me at one time that she rememberd her father (E.F. Bagwell) telling her that his mother was a Lewis. Also, if Sara died in 1856, and E.F. was born in 1856, it is logical to assume that Sara died in childbirth or soon after. This accounts for Daddy having no knowledge of aunts or uncles on his father’s side, as E.F. was the only child of that union. George Washington Bagwell married a second time to Margaret Ann Feazel and had about twelve children with her. I have a communication from Christie Bagwell Stewart, a descendant of Furney and Parthy, which states that in talking with a cousin of hers, she got the information that Elbert Franklin was raised by his grandparents, Furney and Parthy Bagwell. They also agree that Sara M.J. Lewis was Elbert Franklin’s mother.

Concerning the inferences I spoke of earlier, one of Furney and Parthy’s daughters was named Cynthia, and our Aunt Leoder’s full name was Cynthia Leoder. Could it be that Elbert Franklin remembered an aunt called Cynthia, and named one of his daughters for her? The name “Furney” also seems to be carried down in the family. It is known that Elbert Franklin was married at least three times and had children with each wife. Daddy knew two of his half-brothers, Knox and Furney Bagwell, who were from E.F.’s family before he married our Grandmother Ruth (Townsend) Bagwell.

I hope all this is not too confusing. I do have our Family Tree in my computer. Anyone who might be interested, let me know, and I can make you a copy of it.

Alan & Charlotte's Wedding

The wedding took place in Uvalde, TX. They were both going to college there. The main thing I remember about that time is that on the way to Uvalde from Pharr, (or maybe it was on the way home?) Daddy ran into a deer!

I sang at the wedding. I had never really been affected at a wedding before, but for some reason when I saw Alan standing there waiting for Charlotte, and when she came down the aisle (she was so pretty!) I felt like I was going to cry!!

Norma's Visit to the Principal's Office

Funny, I never knew you had visited with Mr. Jones, Too! Actually, I don't remember his name. But I do remember my visit. I was in the fifth grade by the time I had my one and only experience of visiting the principal.

My Teacher was Mrs Klontz. She was very stern and spoke with a heavy European accent. I always think of her as being German. But I did like her and she was an excellent teacher.

We had Language Arts Workbooks in which she assigned our homework. I got to school one morning without my assignment being done and decided to fake it. We always did a self check and she would then call our names and we would give her our scores. I hardly ever missed an answer, so decided to just make up my grade. I was planning on doing the page later, so I deducted about three "wrong" answers. After she had finished calling the student's names and recording their scores, she got us busy on whatever our next assignment was and headed for my desk. I was ready to faint! She asked to see my book. When she saw the blank page, she just picked up the book and went back to her desk. In a few minutes, she came by my desk and asked me to come with her.

I very reluctantly followed her out of the room and to the principal's office. She explained what had happened and I discovered she had come to my desk to see what it was I didn't understand about the lesson. I outsmarted myself!

I didn't get a paddling. She just collected the library book I was currently reading, (a Hardy Boys Mystery) and took away my library privileges for two whole weeks. Much more effective than a paddle!

Norma

Alan & Charlotte's Anniversary

I remember the wedding. I also seem to remember something about limberger cheese being put in the car somewhere that was hard to find. hehe

Alan and Charlotte Wedding Anniversary

June 25,2009

Charlotte and I have been married for 43 years today. After our wedding, we headed for New Mexico. We spent the night in Ft. Stockton, Tx. We got up early and drove to Roswell just in time for church at Mountain View. The look on Grandmama's face was priceless When we walked in. She just beamed and then bent over and punched Granddaddy. They were in the Choir loft. We will never forget that look.

Alan

Memories Are Funny Things

Yes, memories are funny things. There is so much that I was told, that I really have no memory of. I have heard Mother and Mama discussing the early days. Mama told of how she and Grandaddy Boggs courted. He saw her at church, and decided she was the one for him. They were all very poor and the only transportation available were the work horses, which could not be used for pleasure, and "shank's mare" - walking. She told how Grandaddy walked miles between his home and hers, and finally was rewarded when she accepted his proposal.

I know that we lived in many places after I was born. Mother told of going to Bakersfield, California, in the late '30s looking for work. I don't know the year for sure. I don't know if Carole had been born yet. I was born in April, 1937, and Carole was born in June, 1938. The country was slow recovering from the Depression which started in 1929. I think they also lived in tents while there. Maybe that is where Norma's memory of the grass fire comes in. Of course, of great interest to me, was the story of my contracting pneumonia while there. Mother said I couldn't breathe, and they took me to the hospital. The doctors there told her I needed to be in a higher elevation and if they didn't get there soon, I wouldn't survive. So, they packed everything up in the car (no idea of how the obtained a car, but must have had one to get to California in the first place) and started for Roswell, NM. She said they didn't stop for anything except potty breaks and gassing up the car. Mama and Grandaddy were living on the hill in Roswell where Grandaddy was farming, and when they arrived, she carried me in to Grandaddy and put me in his arms. Evidently, I survived, as I am here writing this in the year 2009!

Seventy years ago! It is said that the memories of older people hark back to their younger days. My most vivid memories start when I was six or seven, and we live at East Grand Plains south of Roswell. That's where I started to school, I think. One incident which has stayed with me happened in school. I saw a peanut on the floor of the classroom, and, naturally, picked it up and put it in my mouth. The teacher, I think she was a large older lady named Mrs. Davis, asked me what I had in my mouth. I was ashamed to tell her I had put something from the floor into my mouth (my mother had taught me that was not a good thing to do), so I just didn't answer her, or else said "nothing". Whatever the response, Mrs. Davis was not happy with me. She sent me to the principal's office to get "the board of education". Well, I knew what that meant. A paddling!! So, I left the room, but did not proceed directly to the Principal's office. I went behind some bushes that were growing by the side of the building and sat down and cried. I think it was mostly shame that possessed me at the time. I would have to pass by the windows of some of the other classrooms on the way, and knew that on the way back, they would know what was in store for me. I finally completed the journey, got my whipping, and, sure enough, had to TAKE THE BOARD OF EDUCATION BACK TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!! Not only that, I knew someone would carry the tale, and I would get another whipping when I got home. Needless to say, I NEVER picked up something from the floor and put it in my mouth again - at least not at school. And I made a special effort never again to do anything that would culminate in a visit to THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!

Dot

Same Family, Different Memories

It's amazing how we could all be at the same place and time and have such different memories. I do remember the little trailer. But I don't remember where we were when we lived in it. What I do remember most about Los Alamos was the tent city. There were wood floors with a half wall about 3 feet high built all around leaving an entry way. The tents were all square with a vent built in the center for a stovepipe and were all heated with small wood burning heaters. I can remember playing out on the creek where there were rocks that were piled up to make a little cave. A couple of the bully boys in the camp teased me one time and wouldn't let me out of the cubbyhole.. Fortunately, they couldn't get in either. When they finally found someone else to aggravate, I took off and ran to Grandmama and Grandaddy's tent and it was so warm and snug and safe!

Do you remember the trip down to Los Alamos from the Base or Laboratory sites? It was that long and scary drive you recall. On one of those trips, we just coasted down the mountain a ways with the engine not running. When we got to a level spot and needed to climb, the car wouldn't start. Daddy got out to check and the battery had fallen out of the car. He had to hike back up the road to get the battery.

We also had to have Identification badges to get back inside the camp. I wish I knew what happened to those badges. We all had our pictures on them. Everyone had to have a badge, even the babies! Amazing what was going on up that mountain now that we look back at it!

Norma

Back in Time

I think my earliest memory must be around 1942 or so, when I was five years old. We were living in Los Alamos where Daddy was helping build buildings during WW2. I seem to recall that we were living in a little trailer that Daddy had built. There were just the three of us girls then, Norma, Carole and me. Our bed was like a drawer that was built in under Mother and Daddy's bed. I think Norma was already in school, as she would be six years old in 1942.

My brightest memory is the snow, and driving down the road from where we lived to Santa Fe. We needed snow boots, and we probably went to J.C. Penney or some such store to buy them. I remember the road was very scary. Maybe that is where I developed my fear of mountain heights. I still have trouble to this day with very tall mountains.

I also remember that on one of those trips, we girls were in the back seat of the car reading comic books. I remember that Mother asked Norma if I was reading the words or just repeating what she had already read to me. Norma assured her that I was reading the words. So I guess I learned to read before I went to school. I think maybe the three of us accomplished that. Mother was a great reader, and Daddy read when he had the time (which wasn't very often) . We all read voraciously, except Kathy. Occasionally she will pick up a book, but I think she is happier "doing" than reading about doing.


Dot

Little Brother's Memories

I remember one night when we lived on McColl Rd. The coyotes were howling and I remember Daddy running out the back door with his old double barrel shot gun and shooting at them. I also remember wanting a tricycle that was at the old Western Auto store in Pharr. Daddy brought it home to me and I escaped from Mother who was trying to give me a bath and I was outside without any clothes riding my new tricyle. I also remember Daddy's old Ford PU that whistled when he drove it. I could hear hime coming from a mile away. All this took place when we lived on South McColl Rd.

Alan

Before We Moved to Texas

I'm still thinking in terms of my very earliest memories. I'm not exactly sure of the time sequence, but I remember when we lived up on the "hill" in Roswell just behind the New Mexico Military Institute. I remember the house being just a little cottage. Dot, Carole and myself all shared not only a room, but we all had to share the same bed. I know I was a pre-schooler, because I actually started to school in a boxcar school building near Las Cruces, New Mexico. More about that later.

One of the main things I recall is going around the corner to the parade ground at NMMI and watching the cadets do their military marching drills. They were so neat and in perfect lines and movement. I could never get enough of watching. It was actually a neighborhood pastime. We were pretty easily entertained! I have often wondered if people still sit on the bleachers and watch the drills. There were no fences back then. I noticed that much of the NMMI campus is now secured with a high chain link fence. Such a sad commentary on today's dangers.

Another memory that stands out from the time we lived up the hill is Cod Liver Oil! Yuck...Back during those days, measles, mumps, chicken pox, whooping cough and even scarlet fever were lurking to attack small children everywhere. I remember getting my first smallpox vaccination and how painful it was until the scab finally dried up and the itching quit. Because the vaccines which we use today were not yet a reality, parents did the best they could to insure good health. I'm not exactly sure what health benefit Cod Liver Oil is, but Mother made sure us three girls got a regular dose! I hated the stuff. There is no way to disguise the taste. And Mother tried to pour a spoonful of the stuff down our throats. But that was one thing I was not going to do; willingly take a spoonful of Cod Liver Oil! I know this is why I loved my Mama Boggs so much; One day she was at the house and Mother was trying to give me a dose of the stuff. I was kicking and crying and heaving and really fighting. Grandmama stood there for a few minutes and then interrpted Mother. "Lois", she said, "Don't give her any more of that stuff. And If I catch you trying, I'll give you a dose!" So far as I can recall, I never had to face that disgusting spoonful of medicine again!

We must have been there about the time World War II started. Daddy was gone a lot during that time and I found out later that he had gone up into Northern New Mexico to build an extension on a dam that makes a small reservoir on a huge ranch. That ranch is presently owned by John Yates who is now married to my cousin Charlotte Boggs. She is the daughter of my mother's twin brother, Louis. I am sometimes so amazed at the things life puts together!

I'm not sure just where we went next, but I do have more memories of those very early days. I'll have to let the memory cells float a while and organize my thoughts for another story...

Norma

Why it started

The idea for this blog started with email from me to Norma. I sent her the information about Bobbi's passing. Bobbi was a Black Lab cross with who knows what. She was a puppy from a litter produced by Alan's Black Lab, Samantha. Mother and Daddy had been on their annual summer trip in 1993 in the motorhome, camping in the mountains and visiting family. They picked up Bobbi at Bastrop when they were on their way home. She was the second puppy they had with them, as Baby, a Cocker cross, had been born at the farm on Taylor Road in November 0f 1992.

Bobbi was not really my dog. She was always Mother's. Mother and I moved to Capitan in 2003 on the "orders" of the rest of the family, as they thought we lived too far away from everyone, living in Pharr. Norma and Jeff were in Indiana, Kathy and Mike were in Roswell, Alan was in Capitan, and Carole was in Austin. Kat (Penni to me) and Kristi, Steve, and Avery Lea were the only members of the family left in the Valley. After Mother passed away, Carole came from Austin to live with me here in Capitan.

Mother passed away in December of 2004, and Baby and Bobbi became my dogs. Baby died about a year later, and so Bobbi and I were alone. Mike put in a doggie door in the back door so Bobbi could come and go as she pleased. Before Baby's death, the dogs were definitely outside dogs, but when Bobbi was left alone I allowed her to become an inside dog. She and Baby had been inseperable and I was afraid she would be too lonely to be left outside to sleep alone, etc. Bobby was a very good inside dog most of the time. As she got older, she had a few accidents in the family room, so we set up a child's gate in the hall which prevented her from going into the living area of the house, but which allowed her access to the doggie door. After that, there were no more accidents.

Bobbi was diagnosed with a heart problem about two years ago, and the vet prescribed medication. Every thing was fine until about two weeks ago when I noticed signs of her failing. She would not eat. I ended up cutting up a hot dog for her each evening, but , at the last, she would not even eat that. The fact that made me decide it was better for her to go as peacefully as possible was that she had gone outside, and when she came back in she seemed to collapse before she could get to the office where I am always sitting. I worried about it all night, and finally concluded that the best thing for her was to join Mother and Daddy and Buttons and Baby. I called the vet the next morning and made arrangements. David and Carole took her to the vet's office that morning and left her. They returned in the afternoon, brought Bobbi home, and buried her close to Baby in the back yard. I could not bring myself to go with them to the vet, nor to go to the grave. I watched from the porch. I miss Bobbi very much right now (she wasn't there to slip the last bite of ham from my breakfast to), but I know this will pass.

My joyful memories of Bobbi and Baby include their walking with Mother in the mountains. Mother would get up every morning and walk from the campsite to the corrals and back, about a mile. Bobbi and Baby would go along with her, running up and down the sides of the mountains, back and forth along the trail, never getting out of sight of Mother. I think the exercise was probably one thing that prolonged their lives. Bobbi was born the same year as Baby, 1992, but I don't know the month. This made her at least 17 years old.

We have had many beloved dogs in our family, and probably these will be written about later. This is my story of my beloved dog.

Dot

My Earliest Memories

I was sitting the other day trying to think of the earliest thoughts or events I can remember. I know some very early happenings, like Uncle Vernie pulling me out of the horse trough when I nearly drowned. But I was told about that and have no memory of the event. My own personal recollection is hard to pin down. I'm thinking it might have been an event that happened when I was around 4 or 5 years old. Mother and Daddy went to California and Carole was still just an infant. I remember having a fire that burned all the grass in the yard around our house and finding my rubber doll burned beyond any salvage in the yard. I did ask Mother about that, but she doesn't remember my dolly being burned in a yard fire...But that always comes to my mind when I try to go to my earliest recollections.

I do remember a trip to somewhere that was in a very hot car...at least the weather was so hot that we were all crying and fretting and Mother kept dampening down a diaper (real cloth in those days) and hanging in the windows so the wind blowing by the windows would provide evaporative cooling. Anyway that had to be long before Alan was born as there were only the three of us girls. And Carole was still just a toddler..(she was so cute). But no one had or even imagined an air-conditioned car.

Now that the memory cells have been activated, another early memory I have is of Daddy when he would get the shaving brush and soap and his razor and do his shaving. We would all stand around and giggle while he made silly jokes. No fancy throw away razors, but we did have safety razors by that time. He shaved in the kitchen because we had no bathroom. He had a little stand-up mirror that he used and a white enamel wash basin. He would poke his shaving brush at us and get lather on our noses.

I also remember sitting around, either before bedtime or before dinner and daddy would come in from the fields or the job he was on and freshen up. Then he would sit down, take Dorothy or Carole on his knee and make up funny songs. I was much too big by that time to bounce on daddy's knee.

I think those very good times must have come to an abrupt end as we entered into World War II. Daddy helped build army bases and so forth and was gone a lot of the time. He was a bit older than most of the guys who went into the military and had a large family and was in work essential to the war effort. But that is getting into a whole other time of which I do have many memories. More of those later.

Those very earliest times are very hazy in my mind. But I associate a very contented and happy family life with them.

Norma