Beginnings

The world did not exactly welcome my arrival. Mom swore that I had my foot stuck to her ribcage. After an exceptionally long labor, Mom's OB said that either I had to be "extracted" or mom would be at great risk to die trying to deliver (I was evidently wedged in the birth canal and a C-section was not thought possible). After an emergency call to a surgical specialist, the specialist (allegedly rushed to the hospital in a surgical gown from a previous delivery), performed a Dursian (sp?) cervical incision and delivered me with "blind" sharp forceps. Blind referring to the fact that he couldn't be sure where he placed the forceps. Speak about "primal scream"! I was so messed up that they wouldn't let my mother see me for ten days. We both survived, however, and all I have as evidence of the procedure are scars on my left cheek and under my right eye. I was to be an only child and I was certainly loved.

My first 10 months were spent in my birth city in New York, after which we moved to Iowa. My father's occupation (working for an envelope company) would see us transferred to Kansas in 1946 or 47 which became home for as long as I lived with my parents and several years thereafter.

Don't remember NY at all (even the Primal Scream episode) and my first memories were of our home in Iowa. I remember playing with blocks under the sewing table and watching my mother's feet work the pedals of the sewing machine. I remember playing "cowboys and indians" with my neighborhood friends; walking to kindergarten; chasing and catching butterflies and grasshoppers during recess; playing catch in the backyard with Dad (my first baseball glove - a black catcher's mit); swimming lessions; the ice man delivering ice for the ice box; the Manor Man delivering bread and pastries; the milk man delivering milk; the messy mulberry tree in the back yard which served as a starting post for my learning to ride my bike; leaf boats in the gutters; piano lessions as 4y/o; the Victory Garden and my prize winning tomatos; falling from a driveway wall and lacerating the skin above my right eye and the trip to the hospital; my tonsilectomy and the "stealing" of my favorite childhood companion (Dumbo the Elephant - they said it was too full of germs!) and my first attempt at golf (At 5 I followed my parents for two holes, using my wooden clubs and a rubber ball; got to the refreshment stand and stayed there drinking Orange Crush soda until my parents completed 9 holes). I also remember homemade bananna icecream; the trolley car which took us downtown and a very traumatic moment: my father made me confront a bully in the neighborhood, hit him in the nose and totally stopped his bullying - didn't want to fight and that, in fact, was the only serious fistfight I ever had except for boxing lessons.

Funny how memories build on one another. I now remember swimming lessons and graduation from the kiddie pool to the deep pool at 4 y/o; Halloween "trick or treat", not the usual trick however as the mothers in the neighborhood conspired to define "trick" as some performance for a treat. Sing a song, play a piece on the piano (my ususal trick) etc. Boy were we manipulated. I also remember fox and geese in the snow, making paths in the high grass in the empty lot (lots of good hiding places for secret clubs); the time I had to give a gift back to one of my birthday guests as he was asked to leave because of bad behavior and it would not have been "right" to take his gift to me (hmmmmm). I remember my maternal grandmother who lived with us and was never happy. Always a real grump. I remember many bike rides down our street, some of which stopped abruptly with resultant torn jeans and scrapes on knees and elbows. I remember the block being watched by the parents so we could sled down the steep hill at the end of the street. Lots of good snowball fights, snow forts; chickens in the chicken coup in the backyard (will always remember holding the feet of the chicken while Dad decapitated the bird - the feet kept wiggling and the headless bird's wings would flap if you didn't hold them tight - yuck!!). I remember pre-school, naps on the carpet, sharing toys with the other kids. I remember going to the big school in kindergarten, first and second grades. My favorite subject was recess followed closely by gym class. I remember the weekly reader and drilling on math flip cards. There are many Christmas memories: cutting real Christmas trees; throwing tinsel; leaving milk and cookies for Santa; church services with mom singing solos in the choir; carolers at the door. I am sure many more memories of these first years in Iowa will materialize and I promise to return to edit this post as they do.