Tag Archives: childhood memories

My Occasional River

Our yard flooded regularly. Whenever there was a particularly big rain storm, all the water from the fields that surrounded our house would drain through our yard to the little brook just past the weeping willow on the Drolls’ side of the fence. Our house, garage, and barn were all on hills with a valley between the house and the barn. It was this valley where the water flowed. If it rained enough we’d get a fast flowing stream with water as high as our waist in some places. It was always exciting to see how high or fast the water was flowing. I’m sure my mom was much less excited because when the river stopped and the water dried up, we’d find a path of gravel and debris in the yard. My parents tried to build a small wall to stop some of the debris from crossing the gravel driveway into the yard, but I think they were disappointed by the results.

flood 1
The day I held my high school graduation party, it was raining and the yard was starting to flood. The party was held in a room in my dad’s warehouse (in the former barn). We had to build a bridge for my friends to cross out of pallets and scraps of wood. I know my family has pictures somewhere of some of the deeper and more severe floods, but all I have is a few of the flood from my graduation party (an example of one of our milder and smaller floods).
flood 2

Our Home on State Route 18

I should apologize in advance for the woeful supply of pictures I have of my old home. I was able to get some images from Google, but they’re from very far away and show several things not present in my childhood.

Sometime after my brother Lee was born, but while I was still 2 we moved from Marion to Tiffin. Tiffin is located about 40 minutes North of Marion. We moved into a two story house with a flat roof. We used to say it looked like a lunchbox without a handle. It was about three miles to the edge of town, technically located in Clinton Township.

We were mostly isolated from neighbors with cornfields partially surrounding our house  and a small forest and a farm across the street. Satalight image of my house in Ohio
We had one neighbor, the Drolls, who lived next door to our property. Our houses were separated by a worn out old wire fence and a line of trees. It was roughly about 100 yards from our front door to the fence and then maybe the same distance from the fence to the Droll’s house. The Fence ran almost the entire length of the yard.  It ended just a few yards before the street.  Where it ended, there was a small patch of trees with a little brook. The brook had a small bridge over it on the Drolls’ side of the fence. Considering the fact that we lived next to the Drolls for most of my life, I hardly knew them. They were elderly with no children living at home. They had a dog that used to come into our yard and take our toys. We would get in trouble for leaving toys out where the dog could get them and every so often we would go to the Drolls house to see if any of our toys had been dragged over. I think I was inside their house one or two times, but I can’t say that I remember anything about it. I picture him wearing dirty old jeans and her with dark hair done up “old lady style.” I’m not sure I’d recognize them if I ran into them on the street—that’s how little we saw of them. I can remember him bringing over things from their garden a few times. The only other thing I can say about the Drolls is that in later years they put a sign out that said “Droll’s Hair Fashion” and they outlined the sign in reflectors so that you could see it from a distance. The sign eventually became my landmark to slow down so I could turn into our driveway.

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My earliest Memories

I feel like my memory is Swiss cheese. I have all of these disjointed memories with no order to them, so hopefully writing them down will help me make sense of them all.

image1I was born at Marion General Hospital in Marion, Ohio. I have only three memories and one story from the time we lived in Marion. My very  earliest memory is rather morbid and comes to me now almost as a memory of a memory instead of an authentic memory. I was in the back yard of our home in Marion and my mother was holding me. We were looking at a dead dear slung across a ladder in the back yard. That’s it. Isn’t that a wonderful first memory? My dad has never been a hunter, he’s way too soft hearted for that so I’m sure he hit the dear with his car and then brought it home to be cooked and eaten, as this was the case on a few other occasions when we ate deer.

My other two memories surround the time we moved when I was about two. I faintly  me3remember staring into a big box and seeing my teddy bear inside. The other memory is of my friend Matthew giving me a strawberry shortcake doll just before we moved. I can almost picture us in a room with our parents and I’m too shy to properly accept the gift. It seems like I’m standing between one of my parents knees. I do remember the doll had a big hat with oranges on it that smelled like oranges. I know from my parents that Matthew and I were good friends and that I couldn’t say his name so I called him “muffroom.” Years later we visited his family and he told me what he remembered of me as a girl. He was a little older than me and must have had a good memory, because I couldn’t remember a single thing about him. The sad thing is that I can’t even remember what he said that he remembered about me.

meI know we used to walk home from church sometimes when we lived in Marion. I think it was about two miles away. I have this image in my mind of skipping along next to a large hill, but I’m not sure where that comes from. My dad made up songs for each of his children. My song originated on one of these walks home. It went something like this “yippee-kai-ay-kai-ee galloping all the way, here comes Kathy Alicia (sung like A-LEEEEE-sha).

I have a very limited selection of pictures from when I was little here in Utah.

When I was a child. . .

My mom describes me as a very happy smiling baby. She says I was a very easy baby, Mom and Iwhich was good because my older sister (Barbara) was not well pleased when I was born. My sister was 10 days away from turning 2 when I as born and I am told that when my mother brought me home, my sister took one look at me and “promptly peed her pants.” According to my mother Barbara was already potty trained at this point.

At some point Barbara become intrigued by the way I was fed (nursing on mother’s milk) and tried feeding me in the same manner, which  didn’t work. She also tried feeding a doll and feeding herself.

Barb and IShe was jealous of the attention that I got as a baby and would try to hide me from my mother. I’m told that one day she tried to bury me in toys and clothes, but that when my mother found me I was just laughing and cooing. At least once when I was walking to my mother in my walker, Barbara pushed me out of the room and shut the door.

Of all of my siblings I nursed the longest, making it an entire year. Sometime before my  first birthday, my mother was in a car accident and spent a few days in the hospital pregnant with a dollexpressing bottles of milk for my dad to feed me at home. Mom says she’s not sure what my father did, but when she came home she was frustrated to find several full bottles of expressed milk in the fridge.

Mom says I enjoyed pretending to be a mom and that I’d stuff dolls in my shirt and pretend to have babies.

For some reason, I always had a very short haircut as a young child. You can recognize me in all our old pictures as the one with very short strait brown hair. I also had very long eyelashes and apparently when asked about them I would say “Heavenly Father gave me my eyelashes, he also gave me my bottom.”
short hair

My Parents

My friend Erin has been writing about her childhood and as I’ve enjoyed reading her blog post, I’ve thought I ought to write my own.

Maybe the best place to start is with a short description of my parents.  (I copied the pictures from a little book my mother made me, so they’re not ideal)

In many ways my parent’s upbringing couldn’t have been more different.

My dad was an only child. All four of his grandparents me and Dadwere Lithuanian immigrants. His father, Leo Joseph Bird, was a heavy drinker and smoker who died of lung cancer when my dad was only 7. So for most of his life he was raised by his widowed mother. He recalls living above a bar as a child and watching the drunken men stumble out and deciding that he would never drink alcohol. His father’s death was traumatic. He said he saw his father coughing up blood and running from room to room trying to hide what was happening from his son. My dad grew up in PA. He became interested in agriculture at a young age, through 4-H I think. In his twenties he started to investigate a variety of churches. As he learned about each sect of religion, he would study the Bible to find passages that conflicted with the beliefs of each church. While trying to disprove the teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, he had a spiritual experience which changed his direction and he stopped trying to disprove it and started learning the doctrine of the church. He was later baptized. None of his family joined and I think my grandmother was unhappy about his decision.  <<Don’t you just love the suit?!  My mom now helps him with his wardrobe>>

My mother on the other hand was a descendant of Mormon Pioneers and raised in aOBryant 0658  big family with both of her  parents. She was the second oldest of 7 Children (3rd of 8 if you count the sister who died before she was born). My grandpa worked for the military and they moved around a lot. Mom was born in Idaho Falls and graduated from High School in Idaho Falls, but her family moved several times between her birth and graduation. Being raised in a big religious family like I was, I suspect our upbringing was fairly similar in several important ways.

The details are all from my memory, so if I’m off a little or not as descriptive, now you know why!

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