My earliest memories are random and incomplete. We lived on Princeton Street in a brick and grey painted home next to the Walters family, adjacent to Vassar Street with Easterwood’s on the corner and my cousins, Rae Ann and David, next door to them. Behind our home was the Anthony Wayne Trail, a four lane highway (busy for back then) that used to be part of the Erie Canal (my grandfather swam in it during his adolescence).
I recall being stung by a bee while playing on a swing set in my back yard. I stepped on it while climbing. It really hurt. My Mom told me later that this was the only time I ever took a nap. I vaguely remember waking up from that nap. The house was very quiet; I think Mom and Dad were taking a nap too. Now, after being a father, I know that they took a nap since parents seize these opportunities. I was walking around the quiet house feeling very peaceful and well rested. It is one of my most peaceful memories in life.
I remember watching astronauts live on TV. It must have been a big deal because of how many people were watching and the intensity in which it was watched. I remember snapshot images: my pet hamster named Melvin, the Allman Brothers album cover Eat a Peach with the trucks on it. I remember Santana, our Irish setter, as a puppy and how he got his name; Santana (after Carlos) Redbone (some other 60’s band) Barber. I recall my parent’s room had a window box you could sit on and our garage had a basketball hoop and a loft. We had a carport over the driveway next to the house side-door entrance so you wouldn’t get wet. We had a white Beetle, an orange Chevy van, and a white milk truck at one time. I recall accidentally hitting the gear shift on the bug and rolling out into the street in it. A toggle switch in that car that I was never supposed to operate or the car would explode.
Uncle Raymie used to babysit while my mom and dad went out. I think he was there when Matt Walters threw the pipe that cracked my head open and gave me five stitches and my first scar. His sister Amy told him to do it. I also remember later I threw a rock at him and gave him a black eye (his Dad told me I could have put his eye out. I responded that he could have killed me with the pipe -An eye for an eye. I think I was born a smart-ass. My cousin Rae Ann told me to throw the rock at him. Ironic.
I have fuzzy memories of being in the hospital (getting my tonsils out) and being in a crib-or bed with rails- to imprison me. It was in a large room with many other beds. It was dark except for the light from the nurse’s station. I was thirsty and wanted some orange juice. I was crying for some orange juice but no one helped me. That hospital had shitty nurses. I found out later from my parents that it was Toledo Hospital, the same one I was born in. It was also the same one my son was born in.
If I would have remembered how shitty the nursing staff was, he may have been born somewhere else.