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| Squirrel saved from a hurricane. |
When we were little kids and Dad had occasional work travel that took him away for a week, he would sometimes bring us a little something. Not ALWAYS, as that would become an expectation and ruin the magical moment of: he did it again! One time he came home with three tiny teddy bears with movable arm and legs. The ones for Judy and me were a honey brown. The one for Jim was a chocolate brown. And I STILL HAVE MINE AND I KNOW WHERE IT IS.
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| Less than 2" tall when seated |
Remember the Columbus Day storm in 1962? I was 11, Judy 10 and Jim 7 (Mom got that project over quickly) and it was on a Friday, which was the day our cleaning lady Emma came. She spent a full day (arriving by bus and going home by bus) cleaning a not very dirty house. Everyone of us was clean and neat by nature and nurture (except Judy who was messy when living with us to register her resistance). Emma was a black woman if indeterminate age (Mom had no idea) who lived in a part of Portland we never went to. We kids enjoyed startling her when the vacuum was running until we became aware how bad that was for her. She never let on. She gave me and Judy each a brown baby doll to play with. We loved those, but I failed to hold on to that piece of my history. Emma worked for us though at least my high school years. I wish I had known how to get to know her better.
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| Judy and little brown baby doll |
Just a bit more detail of our Columbus Day adventure. Our house was on a large lot in SW Portland which was fully forested when purchased. Dad bought it as half of the property owned by the family next door on the promise of clearing only what was required for house and driveway. The storm was making all our evergreens toss, whip, and fling branches - some quite large - including onto the long driveway. Mom decided that she needed to get Emma home, and needed to take all of us with her (I guess so she would a) not leave Dad three kids to raise alone or b) would be done mothering). We braved the driveway, heading east, through downtown where we passed car dealerships with all the showroom windows broken, and traffic signals almost doing loop-de-loops. We crossed a bridge, and got Emma home. I recall being horrified at the house we left her at. (Have I ever mentioned how much of a privileged bubble I was raised in?) When we returned home, of course there was no electricity, so Mom had us all in the family room, with only one large drape protected glass expanse - a door onto a patio - which was the largest buffer from trees we had. It was kinda scary, but not so much when Dad got home from the office. He always made me feel safe and loved. And here's another part I am embarrassed to admit: The next day Dad brought a large portable gas generator on a flat bed truck from the shop so we could save the food. Only one tree fell in our yard, well away from the house. Our house was intact (no flying roof as happened around us) and we had a fun time of it: Dad home, no school, temperate weather etc. Again, privileged.