Memory From:
Heather , USA, My First date
I don't know why this came in my head when reading the memories on your site but my memory is of my first boyfriend
I was 14 and he was much older ( 16 ) and the reason I wanted a boyfriend was to practice kissing , I had practiced on the mirror in my but wanted to try for real.
He was much taller than me so it was awkward and exhilarating at the same time , I quickly fell in love and told him we should run away and get married, I am glad one of us was sensible, we dated for 3 months until I realised as he was much older than me he wanted more than I was prepared to give , even though we broke up he continued to be a true friend for many years after that until he moved away, he would always be willing to make up as a couple if I needed to go out somewhere with a date . He was truly a great friend and I hope he is happy as he deserves to be.
Inaugural Day Storm of 1993.
Posted By
Winlock, Washington, Inaugural Day Storm of 1993.
As a child, the earliest memories I have are all of catastrophic events, horrible, debilitating calamities that may have cost any number of lives had they gone wrong. My first living memory is of myself choking on a piece of candy at the age of three, my mom still holding my newborn baby brother. My dad picked me up and hit my back hard enough to bruise to clear my throat. I still remember the feeling of utter helplessness and I didn’t eat another hard candy until I was almost ten.
When you’re a child though, memory tends to be shoddy. It will jump around on you, skipping from one era to the next, recalling the smallest details of a day 20 years ago without the larger details that make it matter. Such is the case of the Inaugural Day Storm of 1993.
I was in grade school at the time, having just recently moved to a new home in the backwater rural oasis that was Winlock, Washington. My father was given a well drilling business as a gift from his mom’s new fiancé and the result was a decently sized home and about five acres of property, the most space my family ever had growing up. We would live there for almost five years before moving back to Seattle and the city life in which we all grew up.
It was that first year though, with the largest storm I’ve ever experienced first hand that I remember most vividly. It wasn’t a hurricane or a tornado, and it surely wasn’t on par with some of the great natural disasters that strike our nation every year, but for an 8 year old it was almost impalpable how scary 100 mph gusts of wind can be when you’re all alone.
The storm struck while I was still at school, still a relatively new addition to the Mrs. Turner’s small 3rd grade class – the new kid, still with very few friends, and fewer notions of the town in which I now lived. Our home was in the hills, a good five miles from downtown where the school was located, and so when the word came that parents should pick up their children before noon, mine were too far to hear that that was the case. The storm struck and we were stranded in the classroom, at least 10 of us whose parents could not reach the school in time. As we sat under the brick roofed compound, wind howling though the gaps, scaring one girl to tears, I watched in wonderment as TV antennas, plastic kiddie pools, and pieces of fence flew by the school’s window.
From within that belly of our daily prison we watched as the town was torn apart, debris littered across the street, listening to the radio over the school’s intercom for a half hour until the power finally went out.
After two hours of the strongest winds, we were finally loaded onto a bus, given the emergency kits that our parents so carefully packed for us on the first day of class and toted home. My brother at the time was in kindergarten, only five years old and was entrusted to me by a school that could hardly keep itself together let alone its students. Our bus ride was often a trip of more than 45 minutes, the route taken winding in concentric circles outward until it finally reached the dirt road that led to our house, five miles away.
That day, as roads were closed, powerlines downed and trees blocking the bus’s path, it took almost 2 hours, and with the majority of radios not working, the bus driver had no way of telling the sheds that he was running so late.
When my brother and I were finally dropped off at the end of our half mile dirt road, the wind was blowing at almost the same strength as when I sat watching from my classroom. An eight and a five year old trudged along slowly and carefully, all the while staring up at the booming groves of evergreens on either side that swayed to and fro, bending precariously against the wind, promising to snap at the base at any second. Whenever the wind died down a bit we would run, as fast as we could until it was too hard once more to run.
Our house, at the very end of the road, on the back right corner and down a long dusty driveway was still intact, but when we arrived our parents were no where to be seen. They had gone looking for us, and at that very moment were at the elementary school yelling angrily at a principal whose sole job was to see to her students’ safety, something my mother let her know she’d failed at.
As we huddled into the darkened corridors of our house, waiting for our parents – this was before cell phones were such common fare – I wondered how long it would last. I wasn’t scared, but my brother was crying all along, and the house was bending inward from the force of the nature’s bad day. Fences were torn apart, our shed flipped into the neighbor’s yard, and three foot section of paneling torn from the roof of our barn, threatening to spread. At one point a pointed thud signaled the contact of a wheelbarrow with the side of our house.
For another hour we sat in that house and waited, until our parents finally arrived and assured us we would most likely survive.
The experience, however safely we came out of it, bred in me a solid respect for the power of nature and to generally fear and respect any storm of that magnitude. Since then, I’ve only witnessed one other such storm, sizably less dangerous with age on my side to counter it, and the raw destructiveness of other storms in New Orleans and Florida in recent years with which to compare it. But, I’ll still never forget those few hours in solitude, trying to calm down a five year and hoping my parents would be home soon.
REMEMBER THE 1960’S
Posted By
KATHERINE , Canada, REMEMBER THE 1960’S
What I remember about the 60’s was wearing bell bottom pants and belts with peace symbols on them. Psychedelic colors and tie dying were in style and I listened to Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sounds of Silence”, “Mrs. Robinson” and “I am a Rock, I am an Island”. Other music that I played was by Gordon Lightfoot, and Leonard Cohen. My father used to say that it was depressing stuff. I remember that it was popular back then to make crafts like collages and macramé plant hangers. A lot of the kids at school were experimenting with drugs like pot, speed, and LSD although I never did because I was scared of street drugs. Everyone back then seemed to be into the peace movement and there was more concern about a nuclear war then than there is today. Credence Clearwater Revival, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan were popular folk singers in the 60’s and articulated our generation’s social concerns. One particular song that was sung a lot then had the lyrics, “Don’t you believe we’re on the eve of destruction?”
I remember that the 60’s were my when my family and I watched Neil Armstrong land on the moon. We were glued to the lunar landing for hours on our floor model black and white T.V. . Our old T.V. used to scare me because sparks would fly out from the side of it and I was scared it would burn the house down, even though my father said that the sparks were harmless. The 60’s was also the decade when President Kennedy was shot and the Beatles were popular. Also, A & W had their drive- in a few miles from our house and it used to be a treat to order onion rings, a burger, and root beer. The waitresses were on roller skates and you ate your fast food meal under a canopy. During that time period I wrote a lot of poetry, learned to play guitar, and did a lot of oil painting and drawing. It was a creative time for me.
KATHERINE , Canada, REMEMBER THE 1960’S
What I remember about the 60’s was wearing bell bottom pants and belts with peace symbols on them. Psychedelic colors and tie dying were in style and I listened to Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sounds of Silence”, “Mrs. Robinson” and “I am a Rock, I am an Island”. Other music that I played was by Gordon Lightfoot, and Leonard Cohen. My father used to say that it was depressing stuff. I remember that it was popular back then to make crafts like collages and macramé plant hangers. A lot of the kids at school were experimenting with drugs like pot, speed, and LSD although I never did because I was scared of street drugs. Everyone back then seemed to be into the peace movement and there was more concern about a nuclear war then than there is today. Credence Clearwater Revival, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan were popular folk singers in the 60’s and articulated our generation’s social concerns. One particular song that was sung a lot then had the lyrics, “Don’t you believe we’re on the eve of destruction?”
I remember that the 60’s were my when my family and I watched Neil Armstrong land on the moon. We were glued to the lunar landing for hours on our floor model black and white T.V. . Our old T.V. used to scare me because sparks would fly out from the side of it and I was scared it would burn the house down, even though my father said that the sparks were harmless. The 60’s was also the decade when President Kennedy was shot and the Beatles were popular. Also, A & W had their drive- in a few miles from our house and it used to be a treat to order onion rings, a burger, and root beer. The waitresses were on roller skates and you ate your fast food meal under a canopy. During that time period I wrote a lot of poetry, learned to play guitar, and did a lot of oil painting and drawing. It was a creative time for me.
Meeting my wife in chatroom
Posted By:
Chad A. Hagy, USA, Chatrooms
I must say that one my all-time favorite memories of the 1990s is the popularity of chat rooms. But there is a very good reason for that. This is how I met my wife. Now before you pass judgment on me for searching for love online, let me set the scene.
The year is 1998 – the month is February. Seinfeld was at the height of its popularity on television and the show’s catchphrases were on the tip of everybody’s tongue. I was a 21 year old college student at the University of Michigan and getting decent grades, I might add. I was quite unfamiliar with the internet as I had only been on the “net” a few times. It’s not that the internet was in its beginning stages at the time, but it wasn’t as prominent in the culture as it is today. It was a Tuesday night and my friend had some research to do at the school’s computer lab, so I tagged along with him. I was just goofing off on the computer next to him and decided to join the Seinfeld chat room which, by the way, no longer exists to my knowledge.
I was in the chat room just having some meaningless conversations with some people, but there was one girl that just attracted me by the way she spoke. She was different. She had a sarcastic attitude about her that was unique. If I had to compare it to a person to better illustrate my description, think of Janeane Garofolo in a chat room, but the girl that would become my wife was much hotter. We didn’t really start talking in the room until she announced that she was leaving, but I begged her to stay. She did. Then we sat there and chatted for the next few hours until the lab was getting ready to close down for the night. At the time, though, we had no idea that this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship.
Chad A. Hagy, USA, Chatrooms
I must say that one my all-time favorite memories of the 1990s is the popularity of chat rooms. But there is a very good reason for that. This is how I met my wife. Now before you pass judgment on me for searching for love online, let me set the scene.
The year is 1998 – the month is February. Seinfeld was at the height of its popularity on television and the show’s catchphrases were on the tip of everybody’s tongue. I was a 21 year old college student at the University of Michigan and getting decent grades, I might add. I was quite unfamiliar with the internet as I had only been on the “net” a few times. It’s not that the internet was in its beginning stages at the time, but it wasn’t as prominent in the culture as it is today. It was a Tuesday night and my friend had some research to do at the school’s computer lab, so I tagged along with him. I was just goofing off on the computer next to him and decided to join the Seinfeld chat room which, by the way, no longer exists to my knowledge.
I was in the chat room just having some meaningless conversations with some people, but there was one girl that just attracted me by the way she spoke. She was different. She had a sarcastic attitude about her that was unique. If I had to compare it to a person to better illustrate my description, think of Janeane Garofolo in a chat room, but the girl that would become my wife was much hotter. We didn’t really start talking in the room until she announced that she was leaving, but I begged her to stay. She did. Then we sat there and chatted for the next few hours until the lab was getting ready to close down for the night. At the time, though, we had no idea that this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship.
The Beauty of Hootie
Posted By:
Chad A. Hagy, USA, The Beauty of Hootie
The grunge phase was coming to a grinding halt in 1995. Everybody was getting tired of the depressing and angst-filled music that was flooding the mainstream radio waves and they were begging for something happier with a more positive message.
Enter Hootie and the Blowfish.
This was a band of just normal guys that entered the mainstream music scene with their first commercial success – “Cracked Rear View.” From the moment I heard “Hold My Hand” on the radio for the first time, I was intrigued. When I saw the video on VH1 for the first time, I was hooked. I was impressed at the makeup of the band. The lead singer didn’t look like the typical lead singer of a pop band. He was a little chubby, which is what I think appealed to me the most because I was chubby at the time, too. I was just happy to see normal guys in a band who weren’t whining about what their parents did to them or how “the man” has screwed their lives up so bad. It was a refreshing change.
That was also the summer I went to my first concert. It was – you guessed it – Hootie and the Blowfish. I lived in Michigan at the time, but both Michigan dates were sold out by the time I went to get tickets. My only option was to buy tickets for their show in Ohio – a five hour drive. In order to get my friends to go with me, I had to buy tickets for them, too. They weren’t Hootie fans, so I bought their tickets just so I would have somebody to go with. But it ended up being one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. Since then, Hootie and the Blowfish have somehow been involved in many of my major life events, which I’m sure will show up in my future writings somewhere.
Chad A. Hagy, USA, The Beauty of Hootie
The grunge phase was coming to a grinding halt in 1995. Everybody was getting tired of the depressing and angst-filled music that was flooding the mainstream radio waves and they were begging for something happier with a more positive message.
Enter Hootie and the Blowfish.
This was a band of just normal guys that entered the mainstream music scene with their first commercial success – “Cracked Rear View.” From the moment I heard “Hold My Hand” on the radio for the first time, I was intrigued. When I saw the video on VH1 for the first time, I was hooked. I was impressed at the makeup of the band. The lead singer didn’t look like the typical lead singer of a pop band. He was a little chubby, which is what I think appealed to me the most because I was chubby at the time, too. I was just happy to see normal guys in a band who weren’t whining about what their parents did to them or how “the man” has screwed their lives up so bad. It was a refreshing change.
That was also the summer I went to my first concert. It was – you guessed it – Hootie and the Blowfish. I lived in Michigan at the time, but both Michigan dates were sold out by the time I went to get tickets. My only option was to buy tickets for their show in Ohio – a five hour drive. In order to get my friends to go with me, I had to buy tickets for them, too. They weren’t Hootie fans, so I bought their tickets just so I would have somebody to go with. But it ended up being one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. Since then, Hootie and the Blowfish have somehow been involved in many of my major life events, which I’m sure will show up in my future writings somewhere.
Millennium Disco Jan 2000
Memory From:
Tom , UK, Millenium Party
Having Dj'ed on new years eve in the millenium, The atmosphere could not have been better, I have been DJ'ing for close to 8 years now and can honestly say i have never had such a good night.
I was doing a disco in a hotel called the Sandringham Hotel in southsea, the hotel was due to be knocked down and turned into flats in the year 2000, the building was very old and was cool to explore, downstairs were loads of hidden passages taking you all around the hotel.
Anyway all the people who attended the party were regulars at this hotel and everyone knew it was being knocked down so this would be the last year you could celebrate the new year in the hotel.
The party was huge with a champagne pyramid, wonderfull food and 500 people partying their hearts out.
At around 11:00 we decided to play the conga with the manager in the front, everyone was given a candle and we were led downstairs through the secret passages, even i was in the conga!!!!
Everybody had a great night and i thimk it was the best way possible to celebrate the year 2000. The hotel was unfortunatley knocked down that yer but the memory will stay with me forever
Tom , UK, Millenium Party
Having Dj'ed on new years eve in the millenium, The atmosphere could not have been better, I have been DJ'ing for close to 8 years now and can honestly say i have never had such a good night.
I was doing a disco in a hotel called the Sandringham Hotel in southsea, the hotel was due to be knocked down and turned into flats in the year 2000, the building was very old and was cool to explore, downstairs were loads of hidden passages taking you all around the hotel.
Anyway all the people who attended the party were regulars at this hotel and everyone knew it was being knocked down so this would be the last year you could celebrate the new year in the hotel.
The party was huge with a champagne pyramid, wonderfull food and 500 people partying their hearts out.
At around 11:00 we decided to play the conga with the manager in the front, everyone was given a candle and we were led downstairs through the secret passages, even i was in the conga!!!!
Everybody had a great night and i thimk it was the best way possible to celebrate the year 2000. The hotel was unfortunatley knocked down that yer but the memory will stay with me forever
Posted By My Son TOM from Disco Genie The UK Resource for DJ's
Kim's Kia her Worst Car
Memory From:
Kim , USA, Kia Sportage My Worst Car
My worst car was a Kia Sportage 4X4 I bought in 1997 , The list of stuff that went wrong in the first year could fill a book rather than a memory here is a list of just a few from 2 years.
Check Engine light always on ( they said not to worry about it at the dealership ) then whats it for
Air Con stopped working
Air bag control went wrong ( not under warrenty )
Driver seat belt unfasten
Clutch blew at 40,000 miles
Engine needed replacing
In two years it was back to the shop 26 times and much was not covered under warranty
I bought it because I wanted an SUV and couldnt afford any other it was much cheaper and I had not learnt you get what you pay for , When I part exchanged it for a Honda CRV ( Payed a lot to do it as no dealer wanted to touch it ) that was same age I couldn't believe the difference in quality
I learnt a valuable lesson in life from that heap of Crap YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR
Kim , USA, Kia Sportage My Worst Car
My worst car was a Kia Sportage 4X4 I bought in 1997 , The list of stuff that went wrong in the first year could fill a book rather than a memory here is a list of just a few from 2 years.
Check Engine light always on ( they said not to worry about it at the dealership ) then whats it for
Air Con stopped working
Air bag control went wrong ( not under warrenty )
Driver seat belt unfasten
Clutch blew at 40,000 miles
Engine needed replacing
In two years it was back to the shop 26 times and much was not covered under warranty
I bought it because I wanted an SUV and couldnt afford any other it was much cheaper and I had not learnt you get what you pay for , When I part exchanged it for a Honda CRV ( Payed a lot to do it as no dealer wanted to touch it ) that was same age I couldn't believe the difference in quality
I learnt a valuable lesson in life from that heap of Crap YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR
Home in Italy 60s
Memory From:
Melandre, Italy, Home In Italy
E' la meta' d'Agosto: nell'orto le zucchine sono rigogliose e nella vigna l'uva e' ancora verde. Un filo d'acqua scroscia monotono nella fontana davanti casa e da lontano sento la voce di mio nonno.
Translated Best we can to
E' the meta' of August: in the garden the zucchine are rigogliose and in the vine the still green grape e'. A trickle of water scroscia monotone in Fontana house and from far away I feel the voice of my grandfather.
Melandre, Italy, Home In Italy
E' la meta' d'Agosto: nell'orto le zucchine sono rigogliose e nella vigna l'uva e' ancora verde. Un filo d'acqua scroscia monotono nella fontana davanti casa e da lontano sento la voce di mio nonno.
Translated Best we can to
E' the meta' of August: in the garden the zucchine are rigogliose and in the vine the still green grape e'. A trickle of water scroscia monotone in Fontana house and from far away I feel the voice of my grandfather.
63 Pony Trek Wales
Memory From:
Robin , Mexico, 1963 Pony Trek in Wales
In about 1963 I went on a super pony treking holiday in Wales with a pal of mine. We were staying at a pub and had good big breakfasts and packed lunches as we went out in a group all day with a guide. We treked all over the beautiful Welsh hills around Rhyader.
I was young and met a super girl who I fell head over heels in love with (in one week!). We talked and laughed, kissed and embraced, but that was all.
After one week she returned to her studies and I returned home to my parents in another part of England.
I pined and sighed over my lost love but the years rolled on, I finished my studies, went to live in London, met a Mexican girl, finally we got married then we emigrated to Mexico and I made my life here.
42 years passed before I discovered the wonders of the Internet.
I used the net and finally found my long lost love--a grandmother now and working as a Planning Officer on her local county council in England.
The county council has a website which I looked up and there she was! A photo of her!
But where was that lithe, sexy, chestnut brown haired young beauty that I kissed and caressed so many years ago?
She is now a silver haired, double chinned, plump lady, prim and proper in her neck high white blouse.
And the moral to the story?
Don't look for old flames after so many years, just remember them as they were and enjoy your memories.
Robin , Mexico, 1963 Pony Trek in Wales
In about 1963 I went on a super pony treking holiday in Wales with a pal of mine. We were staying at a pub and had good big breakfasts and packed lunches as we went out in a group all day with a guide. We treked all over the beautiful Welsh hills around Rhyader.
I was young and met a super girl who I fell head over heels in love with (in one week!). We talked and laughed, kissed and embraced, but that was all.
After one week she returned to her studies and I returned home to my parents in another part of England.
I pined and sighed over my lost love but the years rolled on, I finished my studies, went to live in London, met a Mexican girl, finally we got married then we emigrated to Mexico and I made my life here.
42 years passed before I discovered the wonders of the Internet.
I used the net and finally found my long lost love--a grandmother now and working as a Planning Officer on her local county council in England.
The county council has a website which I looked up and there she was! A photo of her!
But where was that lithe, sexy, chestnut brown haired young beauty that I kissed and caressed so many years ago?
She is now a silver haired, double chinned, plump lady, prim and proper in her neck high white blouse.
And the moral to the story?
Don't look for old flames after so many years, just remember them as they were and enjoy your memories.
Hurricane Katrina
Memory From:
Anonymous, United States, Hurricane Katrina
We were warned about what Katrina may do just before the storm but thought it would not happen to us. First the winds and rain which were so loud we had trouble hearing each other followed by the flooding caused by the levees breaking left my familt and myself on the top of our home hoping someone would find us , at that point we were all scared as we were not even sure if the water would keep rising and we would just drown, we were some of the lucky ones and were picked up by a small boat from our rooftop , it was complete panic at that point with nobody knowing what they should do with us or where to take us and we were put with thousands of others with no food or water , and people were angry at everything , the hurricane, the officials, the governement, we were cold and hungry and for 8 hours nobody seemed to care . There were no sanitary facilities and it was 3 days before any sort of government help or organisation happened.
If we had been rich and living in Florida everything was organised before any hurricane came but because we were poor and from New Orleans we were left to starve and fend for ourselves.
We were a lucky family many of our friends didn't make it or were robbed as in some areas gang violence took over , how sad when the same people who were your neighbours are those who were now willing to rob you.
Because of Katrina my faith in people, government and religeon has been lost forever.
It has been years since Katrina hit our family and we were moved from New Orleans to Texas, how quickly everybody forgets , our lives have not improved our home is gone and we live on others handouts, thank you for allowing me to tell my story.
Anonymous, United States, Hurricane Katrina
We were warned about what Katrina may do just before the storm but thought it would not happen to us. First the winds and rain which were so loud we had trouble hearing each other followed by the flooding caused by the levees breaking left my familt and myself on the top of our home hoping someone would find us , at that point we were all scared as we were not even sure if the water would keep rising and we would just drown, we were some of the lucky ones and were picked up by a small boat from our rooftop , it was complete panic at that point with nobody knowing what they should do with us or where to take us and we were put with thousands of others with no food or water , and people were angry at everything , the hurricane, the officials, the governement, we were cold and hungry and for 8 hours nobody seemed to care . There were no sanitary facilities and it was 3 days before any sort of government help or organisation happened.
If we had been rich and living in Florida everything was organised before any hurricane came but because we were poor and from New Orleans we were left to starve and fend for ourselves.
We were a lucky family many of our friends didn't make it or were robbed as in some areas gang violence took over , how sad when the same people who were your neighbours are those who were now willing to rob you.
Because of Katrina my faith in people, government and religeon has been lost forever.
It has been years since Katrina hit our family and we were moved from New Orleans to Texas, how quickly everybody forgets , our lives have not improved our home is gone and we live on others handouts, thank you for allowing me to tell my story.
I Quit Smoking
Memory From:
Carol , United States, Quit Smoking 15 yrs ago
15 years ago today I stopped smoking the easy way, when I got pregnant. As soon as I learned I was pregnant quitting was the easiest thing I ever did. I had no more desire or urge for them, even though I had smoked for 13 years and tried 6 or 7 times before to quit unsuccessfully.
oh, and my son is now 15 years old and I hope he doesn't smoke and I never started again.
Carol , United States, Quit Smoking 15 yrs ago
15 years ago today I stopped smoking the easy way, when I got pregnant. As soon as I learned I was pregnant quitting was the easiest thing I ever did. I had no more desire or urge for them, even though I had smoked for 13 years and tried 6 or 7 times before to quit unsuccessfully.
oh, and my son is now 15 years old and I hope he doesn't smoke and I never started again.
College memories
Memory From:
Cris , United States, College memories
When I went of to college I had my own car but finding somewhere to park on campus was a big problem so my parents bought me a Peugeot 3-speed road bike that I still ride today.
When I started to gain weight after having children I was determinned to lose weight and got it back out of the shed, during good weather I ride it almost every day for errands around town. It's fitted with collapsible wire baskets that I used to carry my college books but now are used for bags of groceries.
My sons thought it was hopelessly uncool to start with, and adding those baskets was the kiss of death. But over the years their opinion has gone up, as we ride together to the local shops for groceries.
Cris , United States, College memories
When I went of to college I had my own car but finding somewhere to park on campus was a big problem so my parents bought me a Peugeot 3-speed road bike that I still ride today.
When I started to gain weight after having children I was determinned to lose weight and got it back out of the shed, during good weather I ride it almost every day for errands around town. It's fitted with collapsible wire baskets that I used to carry my college books but now are used for bags of groceries.
My sons thought it was hopelessly uncool to start with, and adding those baskets was the kiss of death. But over the years their opinion has gone up, as we ride together to the local shops for groceries.
Farm Pigs come and Visit
Memory From:
Andy, United States, Farm Pigs come and Visit
We live in a farming community and close by is a pig farm , the pigs are kept in barns so we never see them normally but can often hear when they are being slaughtered, but the biggest shock has to be the day I look out at my horses who are going mad and all the dogs are barking, I assumed it was a pack of coyotes near by and went to investigate , no coyotes could be seen or any other reason for the animals to be in the state they were , but as walking round the property one of the dogs was barking up a storm at a tree so i went to investigate, lo and behold it was the biggest fattest pig I have ever seen in my life who had escaped from the pig farm, I contacted the pig farmer who promptly came an rounded up the Pig and took it back , I reckon he would have made a good pig roast and fed us for a month
Andy, United States, Farm Pigs come and Visit
We live in a farming community and close by is a pig farm , the pigs are kept in barns so we never see them normally but can often hear when they are being slaughtered, but the biggest shock has to be the day I look out at my horses who are going mad and all the dogs are barking, I assumed it was a pack of coyotes near by and went to investigate , no coyotes could be seen or any other reason for the animals to be in the state they were , but as walking round the property one of the dogs was barking up a storm at a tree so i went to investigate, lo and behold it was the biggest fattest pig I have ever seen in my life who had escaped from the pig farm, I contacted the pig farmer who promptly came an rounded up the Pig and took it back , I reckon he would have made a good pig roast and fed us for a month
History It’s the story that makes us remember.
Posted By
Joeymichelle To The People History as a reflection on what history is
History, it is what it exactly states: His-story or “her”-story as the case may be. It is always someone’s version of what happened so many years ago that we rely on to tell us how our world or our lives have been shaped into the way we perceive them today. The art of colorful and whimsical story telling is how structured religion came to be or how our history books came to fill our heads with knowledge day in and day out of our tormented youth. We rely on each other to learn what happened to ourselves and to each other to get to the next step in our quest for truth or self-preservation. Our families, our communities are all based on happenings so long ago that have been preserved in the minds of our elders or on a tempered parchment that we must handle with kid gloves for if that is lost, so are we. For it seems as if we are a nation of followers, not leaders. We cannot survive on will alone, we must have that bond between the past and the future to survive the day to day struggle of life.
The beauty in our history is that not all our versions of life are the same. We are so unique in our diversity that our experiences throughout time in all our regions make us so special. We are like a finely woven tapestry of many different color and textures. None of them meant to be placed together, but when mixed create the most glorious of pieces. To remember these stories in our history is magical. Some of our legacy is bitter, some sweet. However, all of it combined make this great nation one of dreams and hope, a nation where all of our “Stories” shape tomorrow and build a brighter future.
This Writers Own Blog Words From Amelia
Joeymichelle To The People History as a reflection on what history is
History, it is what it exactly states: His-story or “her”-story as the case may be. It is always someone’s version of what happened so many years ago that we rely on to tell us how our world or our lives have been shaped into the way we perceive them today. The art of colorful and whimsical story telling is how structured religion came to be or how our history books came to fill our heads with knowledge day in and day out of our tormented youth. We rely on each other to learn what happened to ourselves and to each other to get to the next step in our quest for truth or self-preservation. Our families, our communities are all based on happenings so long ago that have been preserved in the minds of our elders or on a tempered parchment that we must handle with kid gloves for if that is lost, so are we. For it seems as if we are a nation of followers, not leaders. We cannot survive on will alone, we must have that bond between the past and the future to survive the day to day struggle of life.
The beauty in our history is that not all our versions of life are the same. We are so unique in our diversity that our experiences throughout time in all our regions make us so special. We are like a finely woven tapestry of many different color and textures. None of them meant to be placed together, but when mixed create the most glorious of pieces. To remember these stories in our history is magical. Some of our legacy is bitter, some sweet. However, all of it combined make this great nation one of dreams and hope, a nation where all of our “Stories” shape tomorrow and build a brighter future.
This Writers Own Blog Words From Amelia
married in 1973
Memory From:
Sandy Kern,USA, Married to My Husband 1970's
We got married in 1973. He was in the army and looked so good in his uniform. I would take him to work at 5:00 am and go park at a closed gas station to wait in line to put gas in our car. I would bring a pillow, blanket and alarm clock to wake me up at 8:oo am when the station opened. I did this twice a week for months. By the time our first child was born the shortages were waning but we still worried about having enough gas to get to the hospital, so we carried a five gallon gas can in our trunk. The gas station attendants only let us put gas in a container because I was pregnant.
We're still married and he's still handsome.
Sandy Kern,USA, Married to My Husband 1970's
We got married in 1973. He was in the army and looked so good in his uniform. I would take him to work at 5:00 am and go park at a closed gas station to wait in line to put gas in our car. I would bring a pillow, blanket and alarm clock to wake me up at 8:oo am when the station opened. I did this twice a week for months. By the time our first child was born the shortages were waning but we still worried about having enough gas to get to the hospital, so we carried a five gallon gas can in our trunk. The gas station attendants only let us put gas in a container because I was pregnant.
We're still married and he's still handsome.
fruit picker australia
Memory From:
Adrian, UK, Worst Job Fruit Picker in Aus
I went backpacking to Aus for 1 year with a mate and the hardest job was fruit picking in an Orchard, but we managed 2 months of it which allowed us to just chill and travel for a further 6 months
While Back Packing in Australia the best paid job I had was picking fruit working for an orchard , The money was not bad and because we had our own van and a tent for accommodation was free so we managed to save a good portion of what we earnt, The work is pretty hard as it's about 8 hours solid of picking which is bad on the back but the money we earnt in 2 months allowed us to go travelling for another 6 months ( we earnt about $8,000 each in 2 months )
I have included it on the worst job only because it is bloody hard work , but to be fair was the best work we found in Aus.
Adrian, UK, Worst Job Fruit Picker in Aus
I went backpacking to Aus for 1 year with a mate and the hardest job was fruit picking in an Orchard, but we managed 2 months of it which allowed us to just chill and travel for a further 6 months
While Back Packing in Australia the best paid job I had was picking fruit working for an orchard , The money was not bad and because we had our own van and a tent for accommodation was free so we managed to save a good portion of what we earnt, The work is pretty hard as it's about 8 hours solid of picking which is bad on the back but the money we earnt in 2 months allowed us to go travelling for another 6 months ( we earnt about $8,000 each in 2 months )
I have included it on the worst job only because it is bloody hard work , but to be fair was the best work we found in Aus.
The day President Kennedy shot
Memory From:
Isabel , United States, 1963 The day President Kennedy shot
A life changing moment for me and my family was November 22, 1963. When I heard that President Kennedy had been shot, I was a seventh grade student at Booker T. Washington Jr. High, on 108th Street and Columbus Avenue in Manhattan. We were waiting to be let out for the day when a girl who had been listening to her transistor radio burst into the classroom, shouting that the "president was shot".
All of us were incredulous, including the teacher. I'm sure my classmates ran home as fast as I did to check the news on the radio and TV stations. Sadly, the girl was right. From that moment, throughout that week end and for the rest of the sixties, our world was never the same. We were sure more than ever before that terrible things were about to happen in our country and the rest of the world.
Label Memory From The Sixties
Isabel , United States, 1963 The day President Kennedy shot
A life changing moment for me and my family was November 22, 1963. When I heard that President Kennedy had been shot, I was a seventh grade student at Booker T. Washington Jr. High, on 108th Street and Columbus Avenue in Manhattan. We were waiting to be let out for the day when a girl who had been listening to her transistor radio burst into the classroom, shouting that the "president was shot".
All of us were incredulous, including the teacher. I'm sure my classmates ran home as fast as I did to check the news on the radio and TV stations. Sadly, the girl was right. From that moment, throughout that week end and for the rest of the sixties, our world was never the same. We were sure more than ever before that terrible things were about to happen in our country and the rest of the world.
Label Memory From The Sixties
My Renault Fuego
Memory From:
Adrian,UK, My Renault Fuego
My favourite car was a Renault Fuego which I owned from 1981 - 1994 it was 2 years old when I bought it, and gave me trouble free driving for nearly 10 years, in the end it was the rust that got it on the floor, door panels and wings and became just about impossible to keep up with the growing rust ( plus rust colour does not look good on a bright yellow car ) .
I do regret not spending the money to keep it going but I only had 1 parking space at my flat so it had to go , maybe when I get some money together and somewhere to restore one I will get an old one and restore it just for fun.
Adrian,UK, My Renault Fuego
My favourite car was a Renault Fuego which I owned from 1981 - 1994 it was 2 years old when I bought it, and gave me trouble free driving for nearly 10 years, in the end it was the rust that got it on the floor, door panels and wings and became just about impossible to keep up with the growing rust ( plus rust colour does not look good on a bright yellow car ) .
I do regret not spending the money to keep it going but I only had 1 parking space at my flat so it had to go , maybe when I get some money together and somewhere to restore one I will get an old one and restore it just for fun.
my holiday memories of Disney
Memory From:
Becs, UK, My Holiday Memory from Disney at 10 years old
When I was about 10, Christmas was coming and my parents told me that we were going to Majorca for Christmas for the holidays. We got to the airport and it was still the middle of the night and we got in the queue to check in. I looked up and the screen said Florida. I said to my Mum and Dad, 'we are in the wrong queue'. They said no we're not. Eventually I clicked. We were going to Disneyland! It was such an amazing time. It was the best Christmas ever. We went to the Magic Kingdom for Christmas day and watched the parade. We saw all of the characters from all my favourite cartoons. My favourite of course was Mickey Mouse. I was starstruck!
Now I am 22, I can't wait for the day when I have two young children and take them to Disney Land. Hopefully they will feel as lucky as I did when I was thier age.
Thanks to my Mum and Dad for that fantastic memory.
Becs, UK, My Holiday Memory from Disney at 10 years old
When I was about 10, Christmas was coming and my parents told me that we were going to Majorca for Christmas for the holidays. We got to the airport and it was still the middle of the night and we got in the queue to check in. I looked up and the screen said Florida. I said to my Mum and Dad, 'we are in the wrong queue'. They said no we're not. Eventually I clicked. We were going to Disneyland! It was such an amazing time. It was the best Christmas ever. We went to the Magic Kingdom for Christmas day and watched the parade. We saw all of the characters from all my favourite cartoons. My favourite of course was Mickey Mouse. I was starstruck!
Now I am 22, I can't wait for the day when I have two young children and take them to Disney Land. Hopefully they will feel as lucky as I did when I was thier age.
Thanks to my Mum and Dad for that fantastic memory.
My Dad 50s
Memory From:
Steve, UK, My Dad 50s
When I think back to my childhood I remember my dad with fond memories, It was my dad who taught me to swim while we lived in Malta ( dad was in the Navy ), it was my dad who taught me to ride a bike.
He was my hero who seemed to be 10 feet tall and could do no wrong, of the many memories from my childhood the funniest has to be when my mum ( who was quite strict ) told my dad to take me to my room and give me a good smack for something I had done wrong, so off we went to my bedroom where my dad told me to sit on the bed and signaled that when he hit the bed with a slipper I was to make crying noises so my mum thought I was being smacked, to this day I still remember trying to make crying noises between laughing and my dad with a big broad smile on his face. The other funny thing was after my dad left me in my room still making crying noises and went down to see my mum he told me afterwards she said " I hope you didn't smack him to hard ".
Steve, UK, My Dad 50s
When I think back to my childhood I remember my dad with fond memories, It was my dad who taught me to swim while we lived in Malta ( dad was in the Navy ), it was my dad who taught me to ride a bike.
He was my hero who seemed to be 10 feet tall and could do no wrong, of the many memories from my childhood the funniest has to be when my mum ( who was quite strict ) told my dad to take me to my room and give me a good smack for something I had done wrong, so off we went to my bedroom where my dad told me to sit on the bed and signaled that when he hit the bed with a slipper I was to make crying noises so my mum thought I was being smacked, to this day I still remember trying to make crying noises between laughing and my dad with a big broad smile on his face. The other funny thing was after my dad left me in my room still making crying noises and went down to see my mum he told me afterwards she said " I hope you didn't smack him to hard ".
Braves Win 91 / 92
Posted By
Braves Win!, United States, Atlanta Braves. Worst to First in 1991,
I remember baseball and the Atlanta Braves. Worst to First in 1991, and boy did I get hooked on the excitement. 1992 brought it to a peak for me: Braves fever, tommahawk chops, war chants. I went to games and watched many more on TV. Crowed into bars with as many friends as could be gathered to watch the playoffs. The Braves made it to the NCLS again in 92, and again got to play Pittsburg. It was the seventh game of that series that forever stands out in my mind as most nerve-wracking moment of my life. Taking the game to the bottom of the ninth-the last game of the series, series tied 3-3, score 2-1 Pittsburg, Braves get bases loaded, two outs, and the runner at second was arguably the slowest runner in baseball at the time, Sid Bream. I remember the batter hit a single to left field, worst possible place for a slow runner at second. The runner at third scored easily, and they waved Bream home. I was screaming- everyone was screaming. The throw came in, Bream galloping towards home, lumbering towards home more like it, some kind of crazy, slow-motion trot. No way he could make it. I nearly pass out---but the throw is to the first base side of the plate. Bream comes sliding in, catcher tries to tag, and umpire calls him safe! Braves announcer Skip Carey is screaming over and over, Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! That is what I remember about 1992.
Braves Win!, United States, Atlanta Braves. Worst to First in 1991,
I remember baseball and the Atlanta Braves. Worst to First in 1991, and boy did I get hooked on the excitement. 1992 brought it to a peak for me: Braves fever, tommahawk chops, war chants. I went to games and watched many more on TV. Crowed into bars with as many friends as could be gathered to watch the playoffs. The Braves made it to the NCLS again in 92, and again got to play Pittsburg. It was the seventh game of that series that forever stands out in my mind as most nerve-wracking moment of my life. Taking the game to the bottom of the ninth-the last game of the series, series tied 3-3, score 2-1 Pittsburg, Braves get bases loaded, two outs, and the runner at second was arguably the slowest runner in baseball at the time, Sid Bream. I remember the batter hit a single to left field, worst possible place for a slow runner at second. The runner at third scored easily, and they waved Bream home. I was screaming- everyone was screaming. The throw came in, Bream galloping towards home, lumbering towards home more like it, some kind of crazy, slow-motion trot. No way he could make it. I nearly pass out---but the throw is to the first base side of the plate. Bream comes sliding in, catcher tries to tag, and umpire calls him safe! Braves announcer Skip Carey is screaming over and over, Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! That is what I remember about 1992.
Illinois Baum's Bakery
Posted By:
Shar Carlyle, USA, The Old Fashioned Bakers
In Highland Park, Illinois Baum's Bakery on Central Avenue had a dazzling array of colorful cookies and cakes, baked fresh that morning. My favorite was a shortbread dipped in pastel green chocolate with ground pistachios! The bakery lady wore a pink apron!
Shar Carlyle, USA, The Old Fashioned Bakers
In Highland Park, Illinois Baum's Bakery on Central Avenue had a dazzling array of colorful cookies and cakes, baked fresh that morning. My favorite was a shortbread dipped in pastel green chocolate with ground pistachios! The bakery lady wore a pink apron!
U2 Concert 1981
Memory From:
Sharon Campbell,UK, U2 Concert 1981
U2 played at Gateshead International Stadium in 1981 when I was 15 they were supporting Ian Drury and the Blockheads ( I think) and so my love of music and concerts began.
Sharon Campbell,UK, U2 Concert 1981
U2 played at Gateshead International Stadium in 1981 when I was 15 they were supporting Ian Drury and the Blockheads ( I think) and so my love of music and concerts began.
My early Motorbikes from 1967
Memory From:
Mick, UK, My early Motorbikes
All I have seen on this site is peoples memories of cars doesn't anybody remember the old motorbikes
I started of with an NSU Quickly ( I should never admit that ) back in 1967,
From there went to a James 125
then an old Ariel ( cant remember the model but it used more oil than petrol )
Then an old BSA Bantam
And my favourite was Honda 250 Dream which just was awesome compared with anything else, we used to do 12 miles timetrials from Berts Cafe in Portchester to Cosham roundabout and back and it was unbeatable ( needless to say one day I pushed it to far and wrecked the bike and that was the end of my biking days for a few years
OH I DO MISS THOSE DAYS OF NO FEAR
Mick, UK, My early Motorbikes
All I have seen on this site is peoples memories of cars doesn't anybody remember the old motorbikes
I started of with an NSU Quickly ( I should never admit that ) back in 1967,
From there went to a James 125
then an old Ariel ( cant remember the model but it used more oil than petrol )
Then an old BSA Bantam
And my favourite was Honda 250 Dream which just was awesome compared with anything else, we used to do 12 miles timetrials from Berts Cafe in Portchester to Cosham roundabout and back and it was unbeatable ( needless to say one day I pushed it to far and wrecked the bike and that was the end of my biking days for a few years
OH I DO MISS THOSE DAYS OF NO FEAR
Unforgetable Boyfriends
Memory From:
S. Dobbie , United States of America Unforgetable Boyfriends
My father died when I was 17; it was unexpected and quick. I flew to Albany, NY for the funeral. When I returned from a week of awful sadness and feeling lost, a guy I knew from the high school bus stop approached me and asked if he could sit with me.
He told me how sorry he was to hear about my father. He was known to be and was one of the nicest people around and I liked him for his kindness and concern. We started dating a little while later. The next year and a half were the most precious cherished time of my life.
He went away and things were pretty rocky in my home; I couldn't take it anymore and again, feeling lost, I decided I had to leave. It was a hard and lonely road with no one to guide me. He wrote letters, I answered, but I didn't want to dump my troubles on his family and he could not help out from college.
Another guy came along one day and pursued me. I married him; it did not work out. Through years of dating and never remarrying, I have wished I cou
ld explain to my old boyfriend that it was nothing he did and nothing I could have wanted of him; it was just bad times in my life and a young woman who made bad choices without enough knowledge to do the "right" thing. I still miss him, still remember how unforgettable he and our memories are to me.
I also hope he found happiness with someone who was more stable than my own life was back then. I am pushing 59 and only now can I say that the wrinkles of life are things I handle better now. Sweet youth is so tender.
All I have to hear is a song from back then, and I can see those great days of us together, see his beautiful eyes, like it was just yesterday. I will always have that and I am grateful
S. Dobbie , United States of America Unforgetable Boyfriends
My father died when I was 17; it was unexpected and quick. I flew to Albany, NY for the funeral. When I returned from a week of awful sadness and feeling lost, a guy I knew from the high school bus stop approached me and asked if he could sit with me.
He told me how sorry he was to hear about my father. He was known to be and was one of the nicest people around and I liked him for his kindness and concern. We started dating a little while later. The next year and a half were the most precious cherished time of my life.
He went away and things were pretty rocky in my home; I couldn't take it anymore and again, feeling lost, I decided I had to leave. It was a hard and lonely road with no one to guide me. He wrote letters, I answered, but I didn't want to dump my troubles on his family and he could not help out from college.
Another guy came along one day and pursued me. I married him; it did not work out. Through years of dating and never remarrying, I have wished I cou
ld explain to my old boyfriend that it was nothing he did and nothing I could have wanted of him; it was just bad times in my life and a young woman who made bad choices without enough knowledge to do the "right" thing. I still miss him, still remember how unforgettable he and our memories are to me.
I also hope he found happiness with someone who was more stable than my own life was back then. I am pushing 59 and only now can I say that the wrinkles of life are things I handle better now. Sweet youth is so tender.
All I have to hear is a song from back then, and I can see those great days of us together, see his beautiful eyes, like it was just yesterday. I will always have that and I am grateful
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