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My Earliest Childhood Memory

 My Earliest Childhood Memory

My earliest childhood memory is of my dad teaching me the bedtime prayer "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take." That part of the prayer is followed by, "God bless mommy, God bless daddy, God bless Ricky" ... and whoever else I could think of to name... "Amen" 

I don't know how old I was when he taught me that prayer, but he said it with me, or listened to me say it, every night when he put me to bed. I guess I was probably about 2 years old when he started doing that.

He also told me bedtime stories. One of the stories he liked to tell was about "Horse-and-a-Half". (Who rode down the road about a mile-and-a-half, and ate a steak-and-a-half for supper... etc.) Those were my favorite stories. 

Years later I found out that those stories grew out of an episode of the Andy Griffith Show on TV where Andy and Opie have a discussion about a "half a boy" named Horatio.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6L70BwsjUk 

The Proposal

The Proposal

In the fall of my junior year in college I met Keith Carrigan. The first time I saw him was in the music building where I was sitting in the student lounge with some of my classmates. This boy walked past the doorway of the lounge. He was wearing a white t-shirt, cutoff denim shorts, and he was barefoot. Now, you have to understand that this was a conservative Christian college in the 1970s. The dress code was pretty stringent. Girls were not allowed to wear pants to classes, and skirts had to come within 2 inches of the knee. Nobody was allowed to wear jeans to classes, and no one was allowed to wear short shorts at any time. And, needless to say, no one was allowed to go barefoot on campus. So that day in the student lounge of the music building there was some conversation about the appearance of this young man who breezed through our line of vision in such an unorthodox getup.

Scooch forward a few weeks in time… Turns out my friend Nancy was dating this beach bum. They were both from Alabama and had gone to Alabama Christian College, then transferred to Harding to complete their degrees. The boy’s name was Keith, and he was from a small town on the Gulf Coast of Alabama – so he actually was a beach bum, from a culture whose dress code was nothing like Harding’s.

Every fall the social clubs at Harding had “pledge week” when new students were recruited for membership. (Other colleges call these fraternities and sororities.) During pledge week the club Keith was joining instructed the new recruits to have a date with a different girl every night that week. It was not a romantic thing, but a way for new students to meet, mix and mingle with their classmates. So Keith asked me to go to a movie with him on Thursday, and I did. All well and good. But, a few days later, my friend Nancy came crying to me. Seems Keith had broken off their relationship. She was heartbroken. She had thought they were practically engaged, but apparently he didn’t think so.

Nancy wasn’t bothered about the ‘date’ I had had with Keith. It was just part of pledge week activities. But then pretty soon after that Keith asked me out again. For real this time. Now, if I’d had any integrity at all I would have said no thanks, for Nancy’s sake. Apparently, I had no such integrity. And Keith and I started dating regularly.

Six months later, Keith took me home to meet his mother. I was completely enchanted with the little beach town he was from. Even before we got there, we drove the last stretch of the trip on a causeway where we were just on top of the water of Mobile Bay – in one spot there was actually water lapping up on the side of the road. I was immediately smitten with this place. His mother seemed very nice, her little house out in the country was adorable. There was an arts & crafts festival going on in the middle of town. The azaleas were all in full bloom...

Keith proposed to me sitting on a driftwood log at sunset, on the shores of the bay, with our feet in the sand. I mean, come on – I’m pretty sure I would have said yes to anyone who proposed under those circumstances, just so I could make this enchanting place my new hometown. 

Uncle Morris and the Christmas Tree

My mother liked flocked Christmas trees for several years. She usually decorated them sparingly, and usually with a single color scheme – one year it was red ornaments, one year it was blue…

We always spent Christmas Eve with my dad’s family, either at our house or my grandparents’ house or Uncle Bernarde (my dad’s brother) and Aunt Eileen’s house. One year when we went to celebrate Christmas Eve with them, we didn’t have a Christmas tree yet. I’m not sure why we hadn’t got one yet, but I remember Ricky and I were upset because we were afraid Santa wouldn’t bring us any presents if we had no tree to put them under.

When we got home late that night, lo and behold, there was a fully decorated Christmas tree in the living room! And Uncle Morris (my mother’s brother) asleep on the couch.

I think this might be the tree that Uncle Morris brought us, but I'm not sure.

This house was WAY out in the country, between Bangor and Hartford. We only lived there one year, but it happened to be one of the worst winters we had. I know that one time during the winter we lived in this house Uncle Morris was on his way to our house and got stuck in a snowbank. As his car sank in the snow a road sign came right up through the floorboard of the car. It was nighttime, so he decided to just stay in the car instead of trying to get out and walk. When it got near daylight he was afraid he would be hit by a snowplow (the car was completely covered with snow), so he managed to get out and walk to the nearest farm house to use the phone and call us. (NO CELL PHONES BACK THEN!) Seems like I remember that the farmer used his tractor to pull the car out of the snowbank.

PHOTO L-R: Wathada, Morris, Ron, Dianne (me)

The Bumblebee and the Snake

When I was about 3 or maybe 4 years old I was going out of the house and there was a big bumblebee sitting on the floor right between me and the door. I remember being terrified and paralyzed with fear. I just stood there staring at the bee, hoping it would move – and that when it moved it wouldn’t fly toward me. I honestly don’t remember what happened, whether the bee flew away, or maybe one of my parents came through the door, or whatever. I just remember the moments of standing there terrified of that bumblebee.

Another time, when I was 8 ears old, I was walking from our house to the country store, about a half-mile or so away. We lived on a country road, not far from a lake. When I got about halfway to the store I saw a ‘blue racer’ snake coiled up on the side of the road. Again, just like with the bumblebee, I stood stock still for what seemed like forever, waiting for the snake to move, and hoping it moved away from me and not toward me. The snake eventually slithered across the road in front of me, and I went on to the store. I was afraid my mother would ask me what took me so long, but she didn't. So I'm sure my confrontation with the snake only lasted a minute or so -- but it sure felt a lot longer than that.

PHOTO: This is the house we lived in when I crossed paths with the snake. This picture was taken in 1992. When we lived here in 1962-63 the house consisted of only the middle part. Since then it has had the porch added on the left and another room or two on the right side of the house.

Mustard Seed Necklace

When I was very young someone gave me a necklace that had a clear lucite ball or cube that had a little mustard seed in the center. Whoever it was that gave it to me explained the Bible teaching about the mustard seed. 

Luke 13:18-20

18 Then said he, Unto what is the kingdom of God like? and whereunto shall I resemble it? 19 It is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and cast into his garden; and it grew, and waxed a great tree; and the fowls of the air lodged in the branches of it.

I remember another necklace I had when I was very young. It was heart-shaped with a pink rose on a blue background. I kept that necklace for years. I have a picture of me wearing it (the heart on a velveteen choker) at homecoming my senior year of high school.

Our Purple Stump

PHOTO: Ronnie Burford, age 15

The funniest person in my family was Uncle Ron. He was my mother's baby brother. Born the day before my mom's 8th birthday, she was told he was her birthday present, and she took that seriously. They were very close all through their lives. He was only 10 years old when I was born, and he practically lived with us while school was out every summer. 

Uncle Ron could find some way to make everything fun and funny. He came to our house one time and when he got there we weren't home. He hung around for a while to see if we would be home soon, and while he was waiting he wandered into the garage (behind the house -- we lived out in the country). There he found a can of purple paint. (I can't imagine why we had a can of purple paint, but we did.) So he took that can of paint and a paintbrush around to the front of the house where there was a big tree stump in the yard close to the front door. And he painted that tree stump purple. We still weren't home by then, so he left. 

When we got home, there was that purple tree stump, with no explanation whatsoever as to how it had turned purple while we were gone. Well, we knew right away who to suspect -- because that was just exactly the kind of thing Uncle Ron would do. A fun and funny calling card. Here are a few more pictures of Uncle Ron.

PHOTO: Ron and his cousin Beverly Jones blowing bubbles

PHOTO: Morris, Ron, Bob. Ron's the one playing the radio.

How I Learned About Santa Claus

This is the only picture I have of Darlene. This was a few years after we moved away from Bangor.

This is the empty corner lot where our house was. The little white house on the left edge of the picture is the house where Darlene's family lived. (This picture was taken in 1992. Our house had been torn down.)

My closest friend in early childhood was a neighbor who lived in the house behind us in Bangor, Michigan -- Darlene Hensley. She was my age. We were best friends, in spite of the fact that we argued a lot. She had two older sisters, Jimmie Nell and Frances. Her parents were transplants from down South. I remember us walking to town to buy penny candy at the smoke shop, and putting the water hose in the dirt and snaking a tunnel through the ground -- expecting to "dig to China". One of the arguments I had with Darlene was about whether or not Santa Claus was real. I marched her into my house, to get my mom to answer the question once and for all -- and, of course, my mom chose that moment to tell me the truth. Well, what else could she do? I was crushed, and more than that, upset about losing the argument! 

To compensate for my disappointment, the next Christmas my parents let me stay up late and help them put the Santa presents under the Christmas tree after my brother went to sleep. That made me feel better about Santa Claus not being real. That year for Christmas I got a doll (of course). It was the first “newborn” (stuffed cloth) baby doll I had had. I also got my first diary and my first chapter books – The Five Little Peppers and Heidi. I also got a toy gun and holster set. What more could a girl want?

Trip to Washington D.C.

In the summer of 1969 I went on a car trip with my Uncle Ron and his wife Maxine to Washington D.C. I remember seeing John F. Kennedy’s grave with the eternal flame, 

and Bobby Kennedy’s grave. It didn’t even have a gravestone yet, just a simple bouquet of flowers. 

We saw Mount Vernon, and a wax museum (don't know which one). I don’t really remember those places, but I have pictures that I took when we were there. I think we saw the Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument and the National Mall, but I’m not sure, because if we had it seems like I would have taken pictures. I have pictures that I took at the Iwo Jima statue. 

What I remember the most is the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It was fascinating, the precision of that ceremony. I just clicked my little Instamatic camera constantly, to capture the whole sequence.

Great American Family Vacation 1971

In the summer before my senior year in high school my family embarked on the Great American Family Vacation. We drove from Michigan to California and back. We took the southern route there and a more northern/midwestern route back. My dad told us we could each take a duffel bag with 3 changes of clothes -- and we stopped at a laundromat every few days to wash our clothes. That way we could each carry our own luggage easily. 

I don't remember where all we went on the first part of the trip. I know we went through St. Louis and stopped at the St. Louis arch, which was pretty new at the time. I think we visited Carlsbad Caverns, too. We went through the painted desert, and the petrified forest. And we stopped at the Grand Canyon, of course. 

In California we visited with my mom's aunt Juanita in L.A. We went to Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm while we were there. Then we headed north. We went to Marine World. My uncle Bob and Aunt Jackie lived in Pacifica -- just outside of San Francisco -- and we visited them. We saw the streetcars, and drove on Lombard Street. We went to see the Golden Gate Bridge, but there was so much fog we could only see the tops of the suspension poles. Bob and Jackie went with us to Las Vegas. This was back when "the Strip" was still on Freemont street and all the old original casinos were still in business.

This is me at Knott's Berry Farm

My brother John at Disneyland

Marine World

This is all we ever saw of the Golden Gate Bridge

Me and Dad and John at Rockaway Beach (Pacific Ocean) near San Francisco

While we were in Las Vegas we went to see Elvis Presley's show

Uncle Bob and Aunt Jackie, Mark and Lori

On the route back to Michigan we stopped in Salt Lake City, Utah, and saw the Mormon Tabernacle. We also stopped at the Great Salt Lake. We didn't go far enough north to see Mt. Rushmore. The whole trip took three weeks, and it really was a lot of fun -- even with three kids who normally didn't get along with one another very well. My dad made 8mm movies of the trip and they are fun to watch (he had them converted to VHS videos somewhere along the way, and I still have a copy of one of those).