Posted By
C. Cramer, United States , My Father Who Built A Special Car in 1954
In 1954 my father built a car he called the "Comet". The engine was a Ellison" airplane engine. It could go 175 mph. With a few minor changes in the gear ratio it could go 275 mph. The horse power was about 1,550. The general at the time at SAC Air Base was General LeMay. He was a car buff & invited all the major auto makers to Bellevue, NE to view the car. My dad was offered $45,000.00 for the car. At the time of the showing, Gen. LaMay told my dad to patten the inventions on the car [ one was the new supension system], but my father built it out of need to create not for the money. So he chose to let them use whatever new inventions he developed, & they took them all. Mercury came out with the Comet, the weight distrubution, radiator in the back, elelctric windows etc. As a 10 year old, my dad was pretty much out of our lives for 10 months. My mother would take us on Sundays to his place of business so we could spend some time around him. "Hot Rod" & "Popular Mechanics" wrote an article in their magazines in 1954 &1955 on the "Comet". My dad didn't sell it for years. Not to many years before he died, he finally sold it. I have no idea who purchased it or what happened to it. Hope they know how much pleasure it brought my father to build it.
The Coolest Decade To Grow Up 1960's
Posted By
Jane, The Coolest Decade To Grow Up 1960's
I grew up in the Sixties, and for music and TV there was nothing like it.
The Flintstones, "Lassie".
The Archies "Sugar, Sugar",
The Beatles with "Hey Jude",
The Monkees with "I'm a Believer"
The Grateful Dead.
Jefferson Airplane
The Byrds
The Rolling Stones
The Beachboys
Jus some of the clothes I wore
Fir boots
Towering Hair Do
mini skirts
The list goes on
I was 12 when the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan show and turned my young world upside down.
I'm so happy that I lived in that era of "A Hard Day's Night," and "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band"
Then seeing 2 of the most charismatic leaders we have ever seen with Martin Luther King and John F Kennedy
Watching anti war demonstrations, and at the end of the decade watching and listening to the first man to land on the moon .
If anyone can think of a cooler time in history to be growing up and in your teens I would be suprised
Jane, The Coolest Decade To Grow Up 1960's
I grew up in the Sixties, and for music and TV there was nothing like it.
The Flintstones, "Lassie".
The Archies "Sugar, Sugar",
The Beatles with "Hey Jude",
The Monkees with "I'm a Believer"
The Grateful Dead.
Jefferson Airplane
The Byrds
The Rolling Stones
The Beachboys
Jus some of the clothes I wore
Fir boots
Towering Hair Do
mini skirts
The list goes on
I was 12 when the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan show and turned my young world upside down.
I'm so happy that I lived in that era of "A Hard Day's Night," and "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band"
Then seeing 2 of the most charismatic leaders we have ever seen with Martin Luther King and John F Kennedy
Watching anti war demonstrations, and at the end of the decade watching and listening to the first man to land on the moon .
If anyone can think of a cooler time in history to be growing up and in your teens I would be suprised
Once in a Lifetime Afternoon Tea At The Ritz
Posted By
Steve, UK, Afternoon Tea At The Ritz
Just Once in a lifetime you do something you have never done before and will possibly never do again.
As a very special treat for all my family we went to London for a weekend and the two highlights for the weekend were
1 Afternoon Tea at the Ritz ( booked 6 weeks in Advance ) as there is long waiting list for those thinking about it
2 To watch The Phantom of The Opera in the Londons West End in the evening.
Now all sounds great but never went quite according to plan.
We spent the morning getting ready but one little problem occurred when my son decided to check the new instant blue hair dye ( he had bought in Portabello Market the day before ) after he had his white shirt on and 10 minutes before the Taxi was due to arrive and it went up his nose in his mouth all over his white shirt and he looked like some kind of freak ( now my wife has more of a sense of humour than me and just started laughing and couldn't stop which started up the other kids and her sister , ( the only non smiling face was me ) but even I couldn't not laugh so just joined in.
The family then spent the next 20 minutes doing the best we could to make him respectable ( while keeping Taxi waiting ) London Taxis are bloody expensive by the way.
The Ritz is truly awesome with fantastic architecture and chandaliers that could be considered works of art and a sense of days gone by , the cost is fairly expensive but the ambiance is worth it as a once in a lifetime special treat the sandwiches and the cakes are superb ( you will also more than likely see a couple or so famous people as well which can be a bonus. I thought my family had done enough to keep me worried when suddenly from one of my family after they had dropped a fork was the OH F@#@ Word and it sounded like the offending member shouted it but as nobody else looked round I guessed it was just me being over sensitive.
My advice to anyone wanting to do something very special in London is book afternoon tea at the Ritz
Steve, UK, Afternoon Tea At The Ritz
Just Once in a lifetime you do something you have never done before and will possibly never do again.
As a very special treat for all my family we went to London for a weekend and the two highlights for the weekend were
1 Afternoon Tea at the Ritz ( booked 6 weeks in Advance ) as there is long waiting list for those thinking about it
2 To watch The Phantom of The Opera in the Londons West End in the evening.
Now all sounds great but never went quite according to plan.
We spent the morning getting ready but one little problem occurred when my son decided to check the new instant blue hair dye ( he had bought in Portabello Market the day before ) after he had his white shirt on and 10 minutes before the Taxi was due to arrive and it went up his nose in his mouth all over his white shirt and he looked like some kind of freak ( now my wife has more of a sense of humour than me and just started laughing and couldn't stop which started up the other kids and her sister , ( the only non smiling face was me ) but even I couldn't not laugh so just joined in.
The family then spent the next 20 minutes doing the best we could to make him respectable ( while keeping Taxi waiting ) London Taxis are bloody expensive by the way.
The Ritz is truly awesome with fantastic architecture and chandaliers that could be considered works of art and a sense of days gone by , the cost is fairly expensive but the ambiance is worth it as a once in a lifetime special treat the sandwiches and the cakes are superb ( you will also more than likely see a couple or so famous people as well which can be a bonus. I thought my family had done enough to keep me worried when suddenly from one of my family after they had dropped a fork was the OH F@#@ Word and it sounded like the offending member shouted it but as nobody else looked round I guessed it was just me being over sensitive.
My advice to anyone wanting to do something very special in London is book afternoon tea at the Ritz
Elkins Radio School of Broadcasting 70s
Posted By
jim, United States, The 70's and a music career
Ah the 70's--graduated in 1971, went to Elkins Radio School of Broadcasting, and hit the door running in a radio career...Music music an d more music, but not the BIIIIGGG Money I was made to believe it would be. But loved the gig anyway...a lifetime dream. Got a draft notice #11 for Vietnam, and was F-4'd out, joined US ARMY 2 yrs later, spent 8 yrs in the service...of all things, as an MP
jim, United States, The 70's and a music career
Ah the 70's--graduated in 1971, went to Elkins Radio School of Broadcasting, and hit the door running in a radio career...Music music an d more music, but not the BIIIIGGG Money I was made to believe it would be. But loved the gig anyway...a lifetime dream. Got a draft notice #11 for Vietnam, and was F-4'd out, joined US ARMY 2 yrs later, spent 8 yrs in the service...of all things, as an MP
Kurt Cobain more credit
Posted By
Annon, Kurt Cobain
I was only about 6 when Kurt Cobain died and I remember it clearly. Thats when I started getting into rock music plus my mom always put on metallica, pink floyd, and judas preist. But I definatley agree Cobain needs to be given more credit. He was an amazing artist and i dont think their was quite another grunge band like them.
Annon, Kurt Cobain
I was only about 6 when Kurt Cobain died and I remember it clearly. Thats when I started getting into rock music plus my mom always put on metallica, pink floyd, and judas preist. But I definatley agree Cobain needs to be given more credit. He was an amazing artist and i dont think their was quite another grunge band like them.
a childs september 11th 2001 day
Posted By
Kid, USA, September 11th, 2001
i remember on september 11th, 2001, i was going out to recess at my school. We had just stepped outside onto the playground when suddenly all the teachers started yelling and blowing whistles telling us that there wouldnt be any recess for the day and that we all had to hurry and go inside the school as fast as possible. later, i found out that it was because of the trade towers and the adults at my school thought that we might get attacked. it was a strange and confusing day for me.
Kid, USA, September 11th, 2001
i remember on september 11th, 2001, i was going out to recess at my school. We had just stepped outside onto the playground when suddenly all the teachers started yelling and blowing whistles telling us that there wouldnt be any recess for the day and that we all had to hurry and go inside the school as fast as possible. later, i found out that it was because of the trade towers and the adults at my school thought that we might get attacked. it was a strange and confusing day for me.
LIVING IN A CASTLE
Posted By
Kathy, Living in A Castle
Driving down the old highway near Upper Dorchester in New Brunswick there is an amazing sight – a house that looks for all the world like a castle. Mr. C. who owns the house doesn’t like to call it a “castle” though. Why did he build it to look like some ancient fortress? He said that when he was in the Vancouver area he saw a round tower and wanted to build one himself, so he used his training as a carpenter/mason to make his own tower. People passing by the house in their cars got so excited about the tower that they started taking pictures and asking him questions. After that Mr. C. built another towers for his adoring public, and he has generated a lot of interest in the local area and even people even further afield from other provinces.
The history of the original house is that it was built in 1952 with the dimensions being 24 feet by 24 feet square. Since, it was lived in by very elderly persons, they could not do maintenance on the house, so it was leaking and in very bad condition when Mr. C. bought it in 1993. He explains: “We decided to build on – one side we wanted to build on as our living room and the other side we wanted to increase our bedroom space …”. Because the original house was square he had no other choice. Mr. C. started doing some major renovations in 1996 or 1997 and has worked on it for over ten years. He still wants to finish the stair, the dining room and the furnace room and feels that he probably will have all the renovations done in a couple of years. His philosophy is that he doesn’t want to get into debt, so he does the work himself and economizes on some of the building materials.
On the outside of the house, Mr. C. has used stucco cement with wires underneath for support. This gives the house a medieval look combined with the two round towers. Inside he has a large kitchen with a wood stove plus an electric stove. His cupboards are homemade from boards of pine and spruce and they are temporary until he can afford the factory-made cupboards later on. Mr. C. has plans to put a large wood furnace in the basement to heat the house and his “castle” house is more than twice as big as the original house used to be. It has six rooms in it now a bedroom, a dining room and two bathrooms. Mr. C. explains about the most special feature of the inside of the house – his banister: “The railing – I still have to get the hardwood to make the stairs—I went to the woods and got a tree that had a virus on it, a lump you know, and everybody kind of likes it. It’s different than a usual railing.”
Mr. C. says that the stucco cement that he has used on the outside of his house is not common around his area, but is commonly seen from Manitoba to Vancouver. To insulate his home from Maritime weather he had to put foam insulation under the stucco. His decision to build on the land his house is standing on was based on the fact that it was cheap and available. Mr. C. also gets a nice view of the mud flats, the river, and the marsh. When I asked him if he intended to build a moat around his “castle” house, he laughed and said, “No!”
Report Submitted by Kathy from Atlantic Canada
85 percent of species have gone extinct.
Posted By
professer proficient, USA, 85% of species have gone extinct
isnt it sad were in a global catastrophe? since the appearance of man to this day more than 85% of species have gone extinct
professer proficient, USA, 85% of species have gone extinct
isnt it sad were in a global catastrophe? since the appearance of man to this day more than 85% of species have gone extinct
Tina Turner Concert Wembley
Memory From:
Steve, UK, Tina Turner Concert Wembley
In 2001 I was lucky enough to be given tickets to go to a Tina Turner concert at Wembley Stadium, I was not sure what to expect she is not a young artist and although I have always liked her music would not have considered myself a major fan.
The Concert was superb her energy on stage was electric and the music was mind blowing, her accompanying group was Credence Clearwater who i did love in my younger days.
My advice to anybody is if she does go on the road again and play in your area to GO.
Steve, UK, Tina Turner Concert Wembley
In 2001 I was lucky enough to be given tickets to go to a Tina Turner concert at Wembley Stadium, I was not sure what to expect she is not a young artist and although I have always liked her music would not have considered myself a major fan.
The Concert was superb her energy on stage was electric and the music was mind blowing, her accompanying group was Credence Clearwater who i did love in my younger days.
My advice to anybody is if she does go on the road again and play in your area to GO.
Hemel Hempstead Explosion and Fire
Memory From:
Kathy, United Kingdom, Hemel Hempstead Explosion and Fire
Hemel Hempstead Explosion and fire!! There was a massive bang and as we looked out of the window to see what happened it seemed like hundreds of car alarms were going off and in the distance massive plumes of smoke and red and orange flames as high as 50 - 60 ft it was pretty scary not knowing as we thought it might be terrorist attack , people were running in every direction and then fire ambulance and police cars came from all over the place , the smoke was coming into our flat but we decided to stick it out as we felt safer inside than out a few hours later we were evacuated , It is scary to still live so close to the depot and when we move we will check whatever factories or other places that could go up in flames were near by before we moved there
Kathy, United Kingdom, Hemel Hempstead Explosion and Fire
Hemel Hempstead Explosion and fire!! There was a massive bang and as we looked out of the window to see what happened it seemed like hundreds of car alarms were going off and in the distance massive plumes of smoke and red and orange flames as high as 50 - 60 ft it was pretty scary not knowing as we thought it might be terrorist attack , people were running in every direction and then fire ambulance and police cars came from all over the place , the smoke was coming into our flat but we decided to stick it out as we felt safer inside than out a few hours later we were evacuated , It is scary to still live so close to the depot and when we move we will check whatever factories or other places that could go up in flames were near by before we moved there
The Word Astronaut Did Not Exist in The 60s
Posted By
blazingsparkler, USA, The Word Astronaut Did Not Exist in The 60s
I remember that our set of Encyclopedia Britannica did not even have the word "Astronaut" in it. How space, education, rockets changed all in the 60s
The First Human in Space was Yuri Gagarin from the Soviet Union in 1961,
blazingsparkler, USA, The Word Astronaut Did Not Exist in The 60s
I remember that our set of Encyclopedia Britannica did not even have the word "Astronaut" in it. How space, education, rockets changed all in the 60s
The First Human in Space was Yuri Gagarin from the Soviet Union in 1961,
Grandmothers Death
Posted By
TC, USA, Grandmothers Death
Memory is a complex thing in certain times. In our youth it tends to skew towards the times in which we had the most fun, met our best friends or future loves, or the unfortunate deaths of our nearest loved ones. The rest tends to fall by the wayside as excess, events leading us to the knowledge we retain today, like so much stowed gear.
My memory is no different, and of the few memories I vividly remember from my childhood those of happiness and entertainment are the brightest. But, the single most vivid and subsequently painful memory I retain is that of my grandmother’s death.
From the time I was born, I was unfortunate in that I never met three of my grandparents. Mine is not a family of sound health and early life ailments claimed all but one of my parents’ parents. My grandmother however, on my mom’s side, was a source of much joy for me as a youngster, because of her ever present, ever spoiling smile and happy smile. I don’t pretend that I can’t remember those happy times or the sad times in which her life started to spiral toward the end.
You see, my grandmother was prone to serious health issues, including mental issues that occasionally led to horrible proceedings, such as the summer of 1993 in which she was gone for two months missing, having left the city in a fit of depression, leaving us to worry for her.
Her return put her in my mother’s care and we were together almost every day, spending our hours in the afternoon, playing video games, reading books, coloring pictures, and making lunches. She was there for us like any grandmother, but I can remember now how distant and quiet she was at most times.
And when she returned to Seattle the next year, leaving us to our own simple lives, it was only three months before the word was passed of her eventual fate. My mother woke us up on a surprisingly warm October morning to tell us that her mother had been diagnosed with a certain kind of cancer, inoperable and likely to lead to her death.
For me, it was not a matter of understanding death, but of accepting it. My brother however was left without the basic understanding of what was going on. As I sat, hoping to forget the pain of that morning’s revelation, of the horrible news that my only grandparent was going to die, I was forced to listen to my mother explain to my seven year old brother exactly what that meant. Was she going to heaven? Did she believe in God? What about her doggy? Was she going to be home for Christmas?
I felt something that morning that I wouldn’t recognize until seven months later; it was the sensation of absolute pain, of feeling the sting of every single word my brother said, as he relayed the questions that I had gained the tact in my years to keep to myself, even if barely. I could see it in the eyes of my mother, choking out her own answers, trying to be strong for us.
I didn’t ask her anything myself. I sat stoically, trying to pretend I was okay, all the while relaying just how broken up I was by the process. I suppose there are some things in life that happen for a reason, but death is never one of them, and for a child it is almost impossible to explain away that lack of sense. My brother asked questions up to the very second we caught the bus to school, and continued to ask them as I sat there beside him that morning. School was not fun that day.
When we finally saw our grandmother, a week or two later, sitting in the recliner in her living room, smoking a cigarette (“I’m dying anyway; why would I quite”) gesturing to the accoutered possessions of her lifetime, dictating who would get what. The concept of a written will, even in the shadow of her own mortality was foreign to her, too final a statement, written in stone as it were.
I didn’t think to myself then that I might never see her again. I didn’t recount the wonderful times that we had together, nor the efforts made to extend that time. I only stared at those walls full of books and the curtains, carefully sewn by hand in my infancy for her last home. I stared at all of the items that made her my grandmother and wondered what would become of them in ten years.
My mother and my uncle argued a lot after that. There was no will and the plans were under debate, everything except her cremation. I didn’t listen to the arguments, only read the books I’d been given; an entire wall of fantasy novels, carefully kept from a life long membership to the science fiction book club. I read them every day that winter, ignoring the world around me. Up to the slopes of Mt Rainer on the way to spread her ashes, I read Dragonmount. On the way to her wake, to meet the long lost relatives I’d never seen before, I read Crewel Lye. I sat in my corner of the mini van that was mine and absorbed the little world that was my sanctuary and ignored as best as I could the pain everyone around me was trying to hide.
The death of my grandmother was a hard time, and as the only one to ignore it for a year or more, it was even harder for me.
TC, USA, Grandmothers Death
Memory is a complex thing in certain times. In our youth it tends to skew towards the times in which we had the most fun, met our best friends or future loves, or the unfortunate deaths of our nearest loved ones. The rest tends to fall by the wayside as excess, events leading us to the knowledge we retain today, like so much stowed gear.
My memory is no different, and of the few memories I vividly remember from my childhood those of happiness and entertainment are the brightest. But, the single most vivid and subsequently painful memory I retain is that of my grandmother’s death.
From the time I was born, I was unfortunate in that I never met three of my grandparents. Mine is not a family of sound health and early life ailments claimed all but one of my parents’ parents. My grandmother however, on my mom’s side, was a source of much joy for me as a youngster, because of her ever present, ever spoiling smile and happy smile. I don’t pretend that I can’t remember those happy times or the sad times in which her life started to spiral toward the end.
You see, my grandmother was prone to serious health issues, including mental issues that occasionally led to horrible proceedings, such as the summer of 1993 in which she was gone for two months missing, having left the city in a fit of depression, leaving us to worry for her.
Her return put her in my mother’s care and we were together almost every day, spending our hours in the afternoon, playing video games, reading books, coloring pictures, and making lunches. She was there for us like any grandmother, but I can remember now how distant and quiet she was at most times.
And when she returned to Seattle the next year, leaving us to our own simple lives, it was only three months before the word was passed of her eventual fate. My mother woke us up on a surprisingly warm October morning to tell us that her mother had been diagnosed with a certain kind of cancer, inoperable and likely to lead to her death.
For me, it was not a matter of understanding death, but of accepting it. My brother however was left without the basic understanding of what was going on. As I sat, hoping to forget the pain of that morning’s revelation, of the horrible news that my only grandparent was going to die, I was forced to listen to my mother explain to my seven year old brother exactly what that meant. Was she going to heaven? Did she believe in God? What about her doggy? Was she going to be home for Christmas?
I felt something that morning that I wouldn’t recognize until seven months later; it was the sensation of absolute pain, of feeling the sting of every single word my brother said, as he relayed the questions that I had gained the tact in my years to keep to myself, even if barely. I could see it in the eyes of my mother, choking out her own answers, trying to be strong for us.
I didn’t ask her anything myself. I sat stoically, trying to pretend I was okay, all the while relaying just how broken up I was by the process. I suppose there are some things in life that happen for a reason, but death is never one of them, and for a child it is almost impossible to explain away that lack of sense. My brother asked questions up to the very second we caught the bus to school, and continued to ask them as I sat there beside him that morning. School was not fun that day.
When we finally saw our grandmother, a week or two later, sitting in the recliner in her living room, smoking a cigarette (“I’m dying anyway; why would I quite”) gesturing to the accoutered possessions of her lifetime, dictating who would get what. The concept of a written will, even in the shadow of her own mortality was foreign to her, too final a statement, written in stone as it were.
I didn’t think to myself then that I might never see her again. I didn’t recount the wonderful times that we had together, nor the efforts made to extend that time. I only stared at those walls full of books and the curtains, carefully sewn by hand in my infancy for her last home. I stared at all of the items that made her my grandmother and wondered what would become of them in ten years.
My mother and my uncle argued a lot after that. There was no will and the plans were under debate, everything except her cremation. I didn’t listen to the arguments, only read the books I’d been given; an entire wall of fantasy novels, carefully kept from a life long membership to the science fiction book club. I read them every day that winter, ignoring the world around me. Up to the slopes of Mt Rainer on the way to spread her ashes, I read Dragonmount. On the way to her wake, to meet the long lost relatives I’d never seen before, I read Crewel Lye. I sat in my corner of the mini van that was mine and absorbed the little world that was my sanctuary and ignored as best as I could the pain everyone around me was trying to hide.
The death of my grandmother was a hard time, and as the only one to ignore it for a year or more, it was even harder for me.
The Last Conversation With My Cousin
Posted By
Anon, Anywhere, The Last Conversation With My Cousin
I will never forget the time when one of my cousins called after I had not been able to get in touch with her for a couple of years. I remember her voice on my answering machine.
“I miss you,” she said. At that time when I heard her voice I my heart jumped for joy. I was happy she was trying to make an effort to contact me for a change, instead of the other way around. I used to be the one that would always try to contact her.
However, that time that we ended up contacting each other had been the last in several years. I hate it to be that way and I hope I get to see her again, when I am ready.
I will never forget that original contact. I thought it would have been a pleasant conversation as we had other times. However this time was different. We did not get into an argument, but the subject of the conversation was quite disturbing to me. It was about my family.
I know that my family had its share of problems. I myself had suffered quite a bit of abuse from both of my parents. However, when I got on the phone with my cousin the last thing I wanted was for her to criticize my family-no matter how bad it was with us as kids.
It’s not that I thought everything was okay, but…seriously I was a naïve child and in some way I wanted to remain that way. I wanted to believe that my life was okay and that my life growing up “could have been a lot worse”. However, my conversation with my cousin really truly opened up some worms that should have been left in the can they were stuffed into.
All she could do was talk negative about how my dad supposedly threw a chair at someone while she (my cousin) was sleeping over one time. I wouldn’t have put it past my dad at the time, because he was not such a nice person. However, I could not believe that my cousin would just call me up and then not have absolutely anything nice to say.
I mean, she didn’t even talk about any of the happy memories we had of playing together. Or of the time when she and I ate at Mc Donald’s with one of our step grandmas and I climbed into the wrong car.
She didn’t even talk about the times when we would play in our grandma’s pool. No, instead, it all had to be negative gossip about everything, including about my dad.
I was thinking of keeping in touch with her at first, but then I lost her address. Perhaps losing her address was my subconscious way of deciding that I didn’t want to be brought down such a painful road. I did not argue with her on the phone that last time we talked. However, I am sure my silence was enough to let her know that I didn’t really enjoy talking to her that much.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so naïve and pretend like everything is or was okay while I was growing up. On the other hand, my family is the only one I will ever have, and the only dad I will ever have.
Anon, Anywhere, The Last Conversation With My Cousin
I will never forget the time when one of my cousins called after I had not been able to get in touch with her for a couple of years. I remember her voice on my answering machine.
“I miss you,” she said. At that time when I heard her voice I my heart jumped for joy. I was happy she was trying to make an effort to contact me for a change, instead of the other way around. I used to be the one that would always try to contact her.
However, that time that we ended up contacting each other had been the last in several years. I hate it to be that way and I hope I get to see her again, when I am ready.
I will never forget that original contact. I thought it would have been a pleasant conversation as we had other times. However this time was different. We did not get into an argument, but the subject of the conversation was quite disturbing to me. It was about my family.
I know that my family had its share of problems. I myself had suffered quite a bit of abuse from both of my parents. However, when I got on the phone with my cousin the last thing I wanted was for her to criticize my family-no matter how bad it was with us as kids.
It’s not that I thought everything was okay, but…seriously I was a naïve child and in some way I wanted to remain that way. I wanted to believe that my life was okay and that my life growing up “could have been a lot worse”. However, my conversation with my cousin really truly opened up some worms that should have been left in the can they were stuffed into.
All she could do was talk negative about how my dad supposedly threw a chair at someone while she (my cousin) was sleeping over one time. I wouldn’t have put it past my dad at the time, because he was not such a nice person. However, I could not believe that my cousin would just call me up and then not have absolutely anything nice to say.
I mean, she didn’t even talk about any of the happy memories we had of playing together. Or of the time when she and I ate at Mc Donald’s with one of our step grandmas and I climbed into the wrong car.
She didn’t even talk about the times when we would play in our grandma’s pool. No, instead, it all had to be negative gossip about everything, including about my dad.
I was thinking of keeping in touch with her at first, but then I lost her address. Perhaps losing her address was my subconscious way of deciding that I didn’t want to be brought down such a painful road. I did not argue with her on the phone that last time we talked. However, I am sure my silence was enough to let her know that I didn’t really enjoy talking to her that much.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so naïve and pretend like everything is or was okay while I was growing up. On the other hand, my family is the only one I will ever have, and the only dad I will ever have.
I was born in 1993
Posted By:
Kusha , Burundi, I Was Born in 1993
Today we had an assignment about finding out what happened in our b'day year so i visited this website and i got this thank you forkeeping our memories!!!!
amd keeping all the memories!!!!
Kusha , Burundi, I Was Born in 1993
Today we had an assignment about finding out what happened in our b'day year so i visited this website and i got this thank you forkeeping our memories!!!!
amd keeping all the memories!!!!
Smoking anywhere and everywhere in the 50s
Posted By
SA, TEXAS, USA, Cigarettes in the 50's
Smoke!Smoke!Smoke!(That Cigarette) Merle Travis wrote the cigarette song back in the 40's.I was about ten years old, the war had just ended and it seemed as if the world was singing this song as they lit up and kept time with each puff. Smoke rings swirled around in the picture show, in the streetcar, in the bus, walking down the street, airplanes, the doctor's office, hospital, hospital rooms and all the resturants and clubs. Here is my favorite verse and chorus from the song. But nicotine slaves are all the same At a pettin' party or a poker game Everthing gotta stop while they have a cigarette chorus Smoke,Smoke,Smoke that cigarette Puff,Puff,Puff till you smoke yourself to death. In the '50's if some group had decided they would dictate whether one could smoke or not, they would have been tared,feathered and run out of town. By the way; I'm not a smoker.
SA, TEXAS, USA, Cigarettes in the 50's
Smoke!Smoke!Smoke!(That Cigarette) Merle Travis wrote the cigarette song back in the 40's.I was about ten years old, the war had just ended and it seemed as if the world was singing this song as they lit up and kept time with each puff. Smoke rings swirled around in the picture show, in the streetcar, in the bus, walking down the street, airplanes, the doctor's office, hospital, hospital rooms and all the resturants and clubs. Here is my favorite verse and chorus from the song. But nicotine slaves are all the same At a pettin' party or a poker game Everthing gotta stop while they have a cigarette chorus Smoke,Smoke,Smoke that cigarette Puff,Puff,Puff till you smoke yourself to death. In the '50's if some group had decided they would dictate whether one could smoke or not, they would have been tared,feathered and run out of town. By the way; I'm not a smoker.
Children Leaving The Nest
Posted By
Carol ,United States, College Day and children leaving the nest
It seems like only yesterday we took our oldest daughter of to start her college life, and moved her most precious possessions to the college dorm, they included a stuffed seal she has had for 17 years from her grandma and some photos of us and her growing up and then all the normal things like mobile phone, laptop and clothes. But the most important part of the day was the emotions felt by us and her of joy and sadness. Excitement and fear and Love and knowing she will not be there to smile at me or me to smile at her. And as we were driving home all the memories of her growing up just made me cry more the wonder of birth, the first day taking her to school, the birthdays, and there were just so many the tears they wouldn't stop coming as I realised that from now on instead of being her protector against all things evil in the world, she would need to shoulder that burden more herself , I hope and pray we have prepared her well for the world and she is strong enough for the task.
The reason this is now in my memory is my youngest daughter is now ready and has chosen her college and will leave us in September , I am not looking forward to it as it will leave us with an empty house after 20 years with children as such an important part of our lives.
Carol ,United States, College Day and children leaving the nest
It seems like only yesterday we took our oldest daughter of to start her college life, and moved her most precious possessions to the college dorm, they included a stuffed seal she has had for 17 years from her grandma and some photos of us and her growing up and then all the normal things like mobile phone, laptop and clothes. But the most important part of the day was the emotions felt by us and her of joy and sadness. Excitement and fear and Love and knowing she will not be there to smile at me or me to smile at her. And as we were driving home all the memories of her growing up just made me cry more the wonder of birth, the first day taking her to school, the birthdays, and there were just so many the tears they wouldn't stop coming as I realised that from now on instead of being her protector against all things evil in the world, she would need to shoulder that burden more herself , I hope and pray we have prepared her well for the world and she is strong enough for the task.
The reason this is now in my memory is my youngest daughter is now ready and has chosen her college and will leave us in September , I am not looking forward to it as it will leave us with an empty house after 20 years with children as such an important part of our lives.
60s and 70s were way cool
Posted By
60s haa, United States, The Super Cool 60's
The 1960's were way cool, I am a mom of almost 47, so that tells you right there when I was born. I had loved the 50's from the point of view of a child. We had some of the best toys, Barbie was just begining to come out with new types of Barbies, for girls in our age groups, who could get enough. They looked so pretty with the pink boxes, and the theme, but it was the being able to hear Barbie and her cool messages at the time that really got me excited. We had the best toys ever, anyone who came upo in that time frame would have to remember The Dawn Doll, and if I am correct, there were another bunch of smaller dolls, with Jessica in the name, they were a collection. Then lest see everyone had to have skipper, the ring you put around your ankel, and just kept jumping until you couldn't jump any longer. Also popular amongst our kids of that generation, was Jacks and Pick-Up Sticks, they don't ever go out of style. What about Klic-Kalcs, then they started to come out with cool things on the inside of them. Our generation was one of the most innocent, even though things were going on politically, it was a great time to be a kid, because so many of the parents were still under the influence of the homogenous 50's, the taste we had in music was still serene. You had Lawrence Welk and shows like Ted Mac Amerture Hour, I can still remember, "Patty and her Prancing Poodles". We were kids when we still believed in goodness and fairness in people, and you gave people the benefit of the doubt. People were not dumb, but were not on edge either. We had problems that would become apparent latter in the decade, one of problems I remember was the brother of the late President John F.Kennedy being shot. I would also look at The Reverened Martin Luther King on a fuzzy black and white television and listen to his famous "I Have a Dream Speech", even though to the horror of that generation, he would latter be assignated. Leaving many of the people in the black community to feel they had lost one of the greatest leaders the world had ever known. There would latter be the death of Jimi Hendrix, who I did not have the slightest idea who he was, and then latter the death of Janis Joplin, as far as the culture goes, this signaled a change in the social climate. Going into the Seventies was more about being tuned in, at 10 in 1970, it was more about fashion since I would be in 5 th grade, or maybe even 6 th ohh, the bad middel school years. Half of your class is still in geekdom, half of the boys have now hit puberty, and you heard akward expressions such as "woody", of course I got it, I wasn't dumb, but you still didn't talk about that kind of stuff yet, not until... at least thirteen. Then by that time, you hoped your parents had the little talk, but for children of the, "Children should be seen and not heard generation" go tell thier parents that puberty was fast approaching, and never did you see a bunch of parents do a about face, and put a blank face on as if to say, "what in the heck are you talkin about". Come back when your thirty and we'll talk more. People were still embarrassed to speak about sex openly with thier children. Even though the "new" culture was exploiting the subject ot he max. Movies like, "Deep Thorat" would come out, while I was still in the innocent eighth grade. I had no idea what reference the title implied. There was such a dramatic change, by the time I would turn thirteen, a new wave of movies were out, "The Graduate" and the "Summer of 42" seemed to start to look at different attitudes regarding sex. Still yet, our generation was idealistic, the realities were in that time frame, regarding social change, dealings with Vietnam, The Nixon Years, The Ending of Vietnam Conflict, the new feminism, people divorcing, and the idea of living together would become tolerated. It was indeed an interesting time, as adolecents we Rock and Rolled, and then went into Disco. Nobody can ever forget some of the classic Rock and Roll that came out of that generation or the impact of the "BeeGees" with thier "Saturday Night Live" debut. It forever changed the image of the hippie world, with tie-die, jeans,fringes, and peace signs, to low round neck-lines, flare polyester, liesure suits, and more disco attire. What can I say, I grew right up through songs like "Magic" just imangine being 14 years old, in 1974. There are no words to describe it.
60s haa, United States, The Super Cool 60's
The 1960's were way cool, I am a mom of almost 47, so that tells you right there when I was born. I had loved the 50's from the point of view of a child. We had some of the best toys, Barbie was just begining to come out with new types of Barbies, for girls in our age groups, who could get enough. They looked so pretty with the pink boxes, and the theme, but it was the being able to hear Barbie and her cool messages at the time that really got me excited. We had the best toys ever, anyone who came upo in that time frame would have to remember The Dawn Doll, and if I am correct, there were another bunch of smaller dolls, with Jessica in the name, they were a collection. Then lest see everyone had to have skipper, the ring you put around your ankel, and just kept jumping until you couldn't jump any longer. Also popular amongst our kids of that generation, was Jacks and Pick-Up Sticks, they don't ever go out of style. What about Klic-Kalcs, then they started to come out with cool things on the inside of them. Our generation was one of the most innocent, even though things were going on politically, it was a great time to be a kid, because so many of the parents were still under the influence of the homogenous 50's, the taste we had in music was still serene. You had Lawrence Welk and shows like Ted Mac Amerture Hour, I can still remember, "Patty and her Prancing Poodles". We were kids when we still believed in goodness and fairness in people, and you gave people the benefit of the doubt. People were not dumb, but were not on edge either. We had problems that would become apparent latter in the decade, one of problems I remember was the brother of the late President John F.Kennedy being shot. I would also look at The Reverened Martin Luther King on a fuzzy black and white television and listen to his famous "I Have a Dream Speech", even though to the horror of that generation, he would latter be assignated. Leaving many of the people in the black community to feel they had lost one of the greatest leaders the world had ever known. There would latter be the death of Jimi Hendrix, who I did not have the slightest idea who he was, and then latter the death of Janis Joplin, as far as the culture goes, this signaled a change in the social climate. Going into the Seventies was more about being tuned in, at 10 in 1970, it was more about fashion since I would be in 5 th grade, or maybe even 6 th ohh, the bad middel school years. Half of your class is still in geekdom, half of the boys have now hit puberty, and you heard akward expressions such as "woody", of course I got it, I wasn't dumb, but you still didn't talk about that kind of stuff yet, not until... at least thirteen. Then by that time, you hoped your parents had the little talk, but for children of the, "Children should be seen and not heard generation" go tell thier parents that puberty was fast approaching, and never did you see a bunch of parents do a about face, and put a blank face on as if to say, "what in the heck are you talkin about". Come back when your thirty and we'll talk more. People were still embarrassed to speak about sex openly with thier children. Even though the "new" culture was exploiting the subject ot he max. Movies like, "Deep Thorat" would come out, while I was still in the innocent eighth grade. I had no idea what reference the title implied. There was such a dramatic change, by the time I would turn thirteen, a new wave of movies were out, "The Graduate" and the "Summer of 42" seemed to start to look at different attitudes regarding sex. Still yet, our generation was idealistic, the realities were in that time frame, regarding social change, dealings with Vietnam, The Nixon Years, The Ending of Vietnam Conflict, the new feminism, people divorcing, and the idea of living together would become tolerated. It was indeed an interesting time, as adolecents we Rock and Rolled, and then went into Disco. Nobody can ever forget some of the classic Rock and Roll that came out of that generation or the impact of the "BeeGees" with thier "Saturday Night Live" debut. It forever changed the image of the hippie world, with tie-die, jeans,fringes, and peace signs, to low round neck-lines, flare polyester, liesure suits, and more disco attire. What can I say, I grew right up through songs like "Magic" just imangine being 14 years old, in 1974. There are no words to describe it.
Childhood Memories
Memory From:
Ragdar, USA, My Childhood Memories
As a child I grew up poor thus things that happened within my life seemed to come with great meanings and have large impacts on my thoughts.
Simple things dominated my life as I did not have many complex things around me to complicate life. Things like a beautiful flower or a beautiful sunset were things that impressed me much while others seemed to be impressed by other things like TV or movies. I had a partner in life and that my old terrier dog named Monster. I had a three wheeled trike and later in childhood I had a bike that I used to ride too the four winds. My world was limited by the distance I could pedal the bike and the thousands of things I could experience along the journey. Other memories I recall is the mystery of the sound of rain falling on an old tin roof and the shaking of the earth when it thundered. the things that frightened were the things I did not understand. The noise at night that could be anything was a fear I lived with many times
.
All these things that meant so much to me as a child still mean a lot to me as an older person. The sunsets, the flowers and the sound of rain have never lost their magical experience, even today as old as I am. I still ride a bike and I still like to go back in time and memory to days when I was a child. Those were good memories.
I would love to know your childhood memories.
Label Memory From The 1950's
Ragdar, USA, My Childhood Memories
As a child I grew up poor thus things that happened within my life seemed to come with great meanings and have large impacts on my thoughts.
Simple things dominated my life as I did not have many complex things around me to complicate life. Things like a beautiful flower or a beautiful sunset were things that impressed me much while others seemed to be impressed by other things like TV or movies. I had a partner in life and that my old terrier dog named Monster. I had a three wheeled trike and later in childhood I had a bike that I used to ride too the four winds. My world was limited by the distance I could pedal the bike and the thousands of things I could experience along the journey. Other memories I recall is the mystery of the sound of rain falling on an old tin roof and the shaking of the earth when it thundered. the things that frightened were the things I did not understand. The noise at night that could be anything was a fear I lived with many times
.
All these things that meant so much to me as a child still mean a lot to me as an older person. The sunsets, the flowers and the sound of rain have never lost their magical experience, even today as old as I am. I still ride a bike and I still like to go back in time and memory to days when I was a child. Those were good memories.
I would love to know your childhood memories.
Label Memory From The 1950's
Foods I had as a kid in the 70s
Posted By
Mick, UK, Foods I had growing up
My children asked me today what foods I had when I was a kid, so I sat down and tried to remember the different things I ate as a kid. Most I wouldn't eat now but after I listed them we did go out and buy some Bananas and custard and they loved it
Bananas in custard
Banana sandwiches
Luncheon meat sandwiches
Spam sandwiches
Weetabix with hot milk
Lemon curd sandwiches
Fried Tomatoes on Toast with loads of salt and pepper
Bacon Butties ( sandwiches )
Sausage Sarnies ( sandwiches )
Marmite and Lettuce Sandwiches
Marmite and Beef Dripping ( Even I wouldn't eat that now )
Chukkie Eggs with soldiers ( for you Americans that's boiled eggs with bread cut into small strips to dip into the egg )
My Mums favourites food she fed us
Corned-beef hash we stopped eating corned beef after the scare from all the bad cans of corned beef from Argentina.
Shepherds Pie
Liver and Onions
Stuffed Sheep Heart
Mums Home Made Bread Pudding ( She was the best )
When I look back and think about it my staple diet was sandwiches on white stodgy bread maybe thats why I am a little overweight now ( or thats my excuse anyway )
Leave your comments with stuff you grew up with
Mick, UK, Foods I had growing up
My children asked me today what foods I had when I was a kid, so I sat down and tried to remember the different things I ate as a kid. Most I wouldn't eat now but after I listed them we did go out and buy some Bananas and custard and they loved it
Bananas in custard
Banana sandwiches
Luncheon meat sandwiches
Spam sandwiches
Weetabix with hot milk
Lemon curd sandwiches
Fried Tomatoes on Toast with loads of salt and pepper
Bacon Butties ( sandwiches )
Sausage Sarnies ( sandwiches )
Marmite and Lettuce Sandwiches
Marmite and Beef Dripping ( Even I wouldn't eat that now )
Chukkie Eggs with soldiers ( for you Americans that's boiled eggs with bread cut into small strips to dip into the egg )
My Mums favourites food she fed us
Corned-beef hash we stopped eating corned beef after the scare from all the bad cans of corned beef from Argentina.
Shepherds Pie
Liver and Onions
Stuffed Sheep Heart
Mums Home Made Bread Pudding ( She was the best )
When I look back and think about it my staple diet was sandwiches on white stodgy bread maybe thats why I am a little overweight now ( or thats my excuse anyway )
Leave your comments with stuff you grew up with
True Confession Skipping School
Posted By
I am Not Telling, True Confessions Skipping School
Having read the true confessions and realised I could post without leaving my name I thought I would add this to your collection.
Skipping School like all kids specially boys My brother and I hated school so would skip whenever we got the chance. I went to a Navy School in Malta when I was 9 to 11 as my dad was stationed in Malta in the RN. The school I went to was called Tal Handaq ( think that is right but it was nearly 50 yrs ago ). Each morning the school bus would collect us from Mosta Dome and take us to school but if anybody has spent time in Malta they will know that the beach is never far away so we would but a large bottle of drink a big bag of peanuts and strike off to the nearest beach which was Salini Bay and spend the day swimming and messing about making sure school uniforms were safe , later we would walk back across the fields eating the odd Water Melon on the way to get back to Mosta just in time and go home.
Now we got away with this loads of times until the fateful day arrived that meant we had to make a decision to save an animal or get away with truancy. While on the way home we found a Kestrel that had been shot and had a broken wing and we thought if we took it home mum would suss us but would help us save it so that's what we did we caught it and wrapped it in our school jackets and took it home. needless to say my mum sussed straight away what we had been up to and grounded us from the beach for a week ( That was like having your arm cut off to us kids ) . But she did help us nurse the kestrel which we kept in our outside loo and fed it bits of steak ( wearing very thick gloves ) after 12 months he was well enough to go back into the wild so may be it was worth mum standing at the school bus stop every day to check we got on the bus.
I am Not Telling, True Confessions Skipping School
Having read the true confessions and realised I could post without leaving my name I thought I would add this to your collection.
Skipping School like all kids specially boys My brother and I hated school so would skip whenever we got the chance. I went to a Navy School in Malta when I was 9 to 11 as my dad was stationed in Malta in the RN. The school I went to was called Tal Handaq ( think that is right but it was nearly 50 yrs ago ). Each morning the school bus would collect us from Mosta Dome and take us to school but if anybody has spent time in Malta they will know that the beach is never far away so we would but a large bottle of drink a big bag of peanuts and strike off to the nearest beach which was Salini Bay and spend the day swimming and messing about making sure school uniforms were safe , later we would walk back across the fields eating the odd Water Melon on the way to get back to Mosta just in time and go home.
Now we got away with this loads of times until the fateful day arrived that meant we had to make a decision to save an animal or get away with truancy. While on the way home we found a Kestrel that had been shot and had a broken wing and we thought if we took it home mum would suss us but would help us save it so that's what we did we caught it and wrapped it in our school jackets and took it home. needless to say my mum sussed straight away what we had been up to and grounded us from the beach for a week ( That was like having your arm cut off to us kids ) . But she did help us nurse the kestrel which we kept in our outside loo and fed it bits of steak ( wearing very thick gloves ) after 12 months he was well enough to go back into the wild so may be it was worth mum standing at the school bus stop every day to check we got on the bus.
Becoming a Teenage Mother
Posted By:
Anon, USA, Becoming a Teenage Mother
As I sat in the doctors office exam room swathed in a white gown open from the front, I began to replay events from the past year in my head. Opening day at orientation at college, my first experiences with racial tension in the cafeteria on campus later that semester, all the way through to my days of saying goodbye at terms end that previous spring. The doctor ran the wand over my belly, confirming those fears of yes, I was pregnant. However, I was not pregnant by normal standards. I was six months pregnant, not six weeks pregnant. I had gone from simple irrationality to a state of unbridled fear and confusion. How could I have not known? How could a doctor not have known? Am I some mutant that I have not foreseen this? It is then you realize that at this young age of 19, we are so unprepared for our own lives that we are unilaterally oblivious to everything else. I came home in tears so afraid to face my mother, whom I have told unabashedly everything I have ever done, except what has led me to this. How was I to tell her that I have played with fire and let myself get burned? I came in the house, tearfully as it were, and proclaimed myself. I was taken by surprise when my mother did not banish me but instead hugged me. I will not say that she was not disappointed in me for that would be to tell a lie. My mother is a mother, just as I am today. She was disappointed in me, but she loved me regardless of my error in judgment. Regardless of her hug, I felt alone. It is a lonely place, being a teenage mother in this world. Not many relate to it, not many can feel the power of what it is like to make that decision. It is a difficult task to change course and I do not advise it. I chose that road because I knew deep down that I was supposed to be a mother. Apparently, it was to happen long before I was ever ready.
Anon, USA, Becoming a Teenage Mother
As I sat in the doctors office exam room swathed in a white gown open from the front, I began to replay events from the past year in my head. Opening day at orientation at college, my first experiences with racial tension in the cafeteria on campus later that semester, all the way through to my days of saying goodbye at terms end that previous spring. The doctor ran the wand over my belly, confirming those fears of yes, I was pregnant. However, I was not pregnant by normal standards. I was six months pregnant, not six weeks pregnant. I had gone from simple irrationality to a state of unbridled fear and confusion. How could I have not known? How could a doctor not have known? Am I some mutant that I have not foreseen this? It is then you realize that at this young age of 19, we are so unprepared for our own lives that we are unilaterally oblivious to everything else. I came home in tears so afraid to face my mother, whom I have told unabashedly everything I have ever done, except what has led me to this. How was I to tell her that I have played with fire and let myself get burned? I came in the house, tearfully as it were, and proclaimed myself. I was taken by surprise when my mother did not banish me but instead hugged me. I will not say that she was not disappointed in me for that would be to tell a lie. My mother is a mother, just as I am today. She was disappointed in me, but she loved me regardless of my error in judgment. Regardless of her hug, I felt alone. It is a lonely place, being a teenage mother in this world. Not many relate to it, not many can feel the power of what it is like to make that decision. It is a difficult task to change course and I do not advise it. I chose that road because I knew deep down that I was supposed to be a mother. Apparently, it was to happen long before I was ever ready.
Salamanders and walking sticks
Posted By
Mae, USA, Salamanders and walking sticks
I grew up as a little kid in the 70's and I remember the neighbor kids and I would bring home all kinds of creatures. Mostly toads and salamanders. Black smooth skinned with yellow spots. My mom had an old pink plastic wash tub and we would fill that thing with salamanders. I don't know if I don't see them anymore because I'm not actively looking for them or if they've just disappeared. I also remember finding walking sticks, you know the insects that look like a stick. Crazy when I think about it now.
Mae, USA, Salamanders and walking sticks
I grew up as a little kid in the 70's and I remember the neighbor kids and I would bring home all kinds of creatures. Mostly toads and salamanders. Black smooth skinned with yellow spots. My mom had an old pink plastic wash tub and we would fill that thing with salamanders. I don't know if I don't see them anymore because I'm not actively looking for them or if they've just disappeared. I also remember finding walking sticks, you know the insects that look like a stick. Crazy when I think about it now.
One Room School house
Posted By
Kathy , Canada, JACK TAPLEY REMEMBERS THE FROSTY HOLLOW SCHOOL
I remember the day in 1946, early September, when it was time for me to go to school. I knew which school I would be going to – the one room school which was about one mile from where we lived in a rural area. The school was about 30 feet wide and 40 feet long and was of a wood construction. The first day of school was pretty well consumed with getting your seat. All seats were single desks with a drawer under the seat portion. Grad one was seated at the front of the school and as the grades progressed they moved to the rear. The school accommodated Grade 1 to Grade 8. One teacher provided the education for the entire school dividing their time between the various grades.
The school was heated with a medium sized wood burning stove. There was no electricity or plumbing in the school. The wood supply and washroom facilities were located in a shed just to the rear of the school. My first teacher was Mr. Thompson who was a recent graduate of Teachers School or as they called it in that era “Normal School”. The teacher boarded during the week at a nearby residence owned by the Carter family who had taken in teachers for many a year previously.
I recall during the winter months that the school would be very cold in the morning and it was acceptable to wear your coat and boots until the school warmed up. A student was given the job of janitor for the year. It was usually a volunteered position and lasted for the entire school year. The janitor’s duties would be to have the supplied wood piled neatly in the wood shed, have sufficient kindling on hand for the stove, keep the stove burning as necessary to keep the building warm, and sweep the school floor after school every day. The janitor’s job had its perks as he could leave the school building as necessary to get wood from the outside shed for the stove. (Also), the janitor would get several breaks a day and if it was a nice day outdoors it sometimes took a bit longer for the janitor to return. I know as I was the janitor one year. The pay for janitorial work was $30.00 per year and the school board paid at the end of the school year. I went to the one roomed school from grade on to grade seven. When I entered grade seven we were taken by bus to the new high school about three miles away.
The Altamont Music Festival 1969
Posted By:
Anonymous, USA, Altamont Music Festival 1969
We thought Altamont was going to be an extension of the peace and love that was touted for Woodstock. After all, it was only a few months after the famous Woodstock festival that used the tagline “Three Days of Peace and Music” to promote the event. Altamont was different, though. I went there because I couldn’t make it to Woodstock in August. Besides, Altamont had bands that I associated with more than the ones at Woodstock. I wasn’t part of the counter-culture that protested the current Vietnam War and I wasn’t one of the ones that continuously questioned authority. I was 25 at the time, so I was past that already.
The headlining group at the free Altamont concert was The Rolling Stones. The Hell’s Angels were hired as security, but that proved to be more of a problem than a solution. Since the Hell’s Angels were the only form of security at the concert, there was nobody to keep them in check. I don’t know what the organizers were thinking. The Hell’s Angels were known for they unruliness. That would be almost like hiring one of the urban gangs of today to do security for an event. When the concert ended, there were at least three people dead. One of those people – a young African-American – was brutally beaten to death by the Hell’s Angels with their trademark broken pool cues. I didn’t see it. I was more towards the back of the crowd and this happened towards the front. But I remember Mick Jagger asking for an ambulance and then the show continuing. I remember hearing all the stories of people being trampled. When I first got to the concert, I wanted to be as close as I could. But when it was over, I was thankful I was way in the back. So much for carrying on the Woodstock spirit of peace and love.
Anonymous, USA, Altamont Music Festival 1969
We thought Altamont was going to be an extension of the peace and love that was touted for Woodstock. After all, it was only a few months after the famous Woodstock festival that used the tagline “Three Days of Peace and Music” to promote the event. Altamont was different, though. I went there because I couldn’t make it to Woodstock in August. Besides, Altamont had bands that I associated with more than the ones at Woodstock. I wasn’t part of the counter-culture that protested the current Vietnam War and I wasn’t one of the ones that continuously questioned authority. I was 25 at the time, so I was past that already.
The headlining group at the free Altamont concert was The Rolling Stones. The Hell’s Angels were hired as security, but that proved to be more of a problem than a solution. Since the Hell’s Angels were the only form of security at the concert, there was nobody to keep them in check. I don’t know what the organizers were thinking. The Hell’s Angels were known for they unruliness. That would be almost like hiring one of the urban gangs of today to do security for an event. When the concert ended, there were at least three people dead. One of those people – a young African-American – was brutally beaten to death by the Hell’s Angels with their trademark broken pool cues. I didn’t see it. I was more towards the back of the crowd and this happened towards the front. But I remember Mick Jagger asking for an ambulance and then the show continuing. I remember hearing all the stories of people being trampled. When I first got to the concert, I wanted to be as close as I could. But when it was over, I was thankful I was way in the back. So much for carrying on the Woodstock spirit of peace and love.
My Best Friend
Memory From:
John , USA, Best Friends
I just finished reading "Marley and Me" by John Grogen. Having recently put my best friend, Sitka, to sleep after 13+ long years of deep friendship, I could relate to his every word. Mine was a saint by comparison, yet I had witnessed many of the same antics over the years, just not as many. Sitka was, for me anyway, a perfect dog. She was big (75 lbs.), strong, athletic, kind, gentle, and as smart as they come. I had never worried about her around children or other animals. She never killed a thing in her life, not even a mouse, though she was quite capable. She was passionately loyal to me. If we went fishing in a boat it was in our best interest to take her along. If we didn't we would shortly be hauling her out of the water because she would swim after us without regard for distance. I recognized every day what a great girl she was and I told her so. I know she knew I loved her, I know she loved me back. She was a proficient "talker" and always enterta ined friends with her vast vocabulary. Her howl was perfectly wolf-like and she was happy to demonstrate for you. I pray every night that God will include our four-legged friends when he settles our scores. I've often though that if getting to heaven is based on how you treat your dog, I'm in. I'll never forget her, and in that sense she will never really be gone.
John , USA, Best Friends
I just finished reading "Marley and Me" by John Grogen. Having recently put my best friend, Sitka, to sleep after 13+ long years of deep friendship, I could relate to his every word. Mine was a saint by comparison, yet I had witnessed many of the same antics over the years, just not as many. Sitka was, for me anyway, a perfect dog. She was big (75 lbs.), strong, athletic, kind, gentle, and as smart as they come. I had never worried about her around children or other animals. She never killed a thing in her life, not even a mouse, though she was quite capable. She was passionately loyal to me. If we went fishing in a boat it was in our best interest to take her along. If we didn't we would shortly be hauling her out of the water because she would swim after us without regard for distance. I recognized every day what a great girl she was and I told her so. I know she knew I loved her, I know she loved me back. She was a proficient "talker" and always enterta ined friends with her vast vocabulary. Her howl was perfectly wolf-like and she was happy to demonstrate for you. I pray every night that God will include our four-legged friends when he settles our scores. I've often though that if getting to heaven is based on how you treat your dog, I'm in. I'll never forget her, and in that sense she will never really be gone.
My Dad World War II and Battle of the Bulge
Posted By
Ken, United States , A good man and father who fought at the Battle of the Bulge
I was born in 1943. My Dad was serving with the U.S. Army Corps of Combat Engineers who fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He came home late in 1945. I was too young to remember his homecoming, but after I had a few years to grow up, I found out what a good man and father he really was. I was an only child and my Dad and I were like two peas in a pod. He'd spend as much time with me as possible and always gave me credit for helping him do things that I didn't really deserve credit for. He loved me with all his heart and I felt the same about him. Beings he fought in WWII, I grew up being a WWII fanatic and am still interested in that war to this day. My Dad died in 1988 and I miss him as much today as I did when he first left me. He was my one and only hero and I cherish the sweet memories of him. The good lord doesn't make too many men like my Dad.
Ken, United States , A good man and father who fought at the Battle of the Bulge
I was born in 1943. My Dad was serving with the U.S. Army Corps of Combat Engineers who fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He came home late in 1945. I was too young to remember his homecoming, but after I had a few years to grow up, I found out what a good man and father he really was. I was an only child and my Dad and I were like two peas in a pod. He'd spend as much time with me as possible and always gave me credit for helping him do things that I didn't really deserve credit for. He loved me with all his heart and I felt the same about him. Beings he fought in WWII, I grew up being a WWII fanatic and am still interested in that war to this day. My Dad died in 1988 and I miss him as much today as I did when he first left me. He was my one and only hero and I cherish the sweet memories of him. The good lord doesn't make too many men like my Dad.
Remember the 70s Music
Posted By
Rememberthe70s, United States, Remember The 70's Music
My life over the last 60 years. In September of 1946, I made my debut in life at St. John's Hospital in Joplin, MO. My family lived on Byers St. at 416 and then 831 (at 9th and Byers) until we moved to Los Angeles, CA. After serving in the US Navy during the 60s & 70s I became involved with entertainment production development in Hollywood. In the 1990s I acquired several 1970s classic television series in a stock swap. One of these TV series is "Rollin' On The River" with Kenny Rogers and The First Edition. My company, Walters & Associates Productions, Ltd. has been restoring and digitally remastering the series and you can see the first of what we hope will be many, if not the entire 52 episodes in the series, of restored performances from this classic 1970s Rock n' Roll music on the "Remember" DVD.
Included is a link where you can buy this Remember DVD
Remember DVD
Smoking was known to be bad for you in the 20s
Before I begin I must apologise as this is not a memory posted by our visitors and is only the second time I have published something which is not a memory but decided it was so interesting I should share.
In the late 20's a number of medical reports showed that the Nicotine found in tobacco was dangerous to health so the Tobacco companies came up with a way to Denicotize Tobacco by using pre-heated steam in the process of drying tobacco. They then marketed the cigarettes and Cigars as Denicotized . It seems strange that all that time ago some of dangers of smoking were well known and documented but it took until late into the 20th century for governments to act.
In the late 20's a number of medical reports showed that the Nicotine found in tobacco was dangerous to health so the Tobacco companies came up with a way to Denicotize Tobacco by using pre-heated steam in the process of drying tobacco. They then marketed the cigarettes and Cigars as Denicotized . It seems strange that all that time ago some of dangers of smoking were well known and documented but it took until late into the 20th century for governments to act.
Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968
Posted By
Anonymous, USA, Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968
I got married in 1968, just months after Johnny Cash created his most legendary performance at Folsom Prison in California. My wife’s brother was an inmate there at the time. He was one of the hardened criminals that was not allowed to be in the population during the performance. He was able to hear the concert though. I would like to show the letter that he wrote in the days following the concert, but it’s buried in a pile of papers. I remember reading how touched he was by the event though.
I remember one of the things he mentioned about Johnny Cash singing “Greystone Chapel” at the end of the concert. It was a song written by my brother-in-law’s friend, Glenn Sherley. He described Glenn as one of the nicest guys and he was just ecstatic for days following the concert because the legendary Johnny Cash basically immortalized him for singing his song. It was something that all of the inmates reveled in. Johnny Cash’s concert brought some cheer to lives of those inmates that day. Whether you think they deserve something like that or not is irrelevant. Johhny Cash looked at those men as humans who have made mistakes. He made mistakes in his life, too, so he could identify with those men. He didn’t judge them like everybody else had done.
I always wonder how many of those men were as touched as my brother-in-law was that day. He knew he was going to be in prison for possibly the rest of his life, but that day gave him hope that there was something more than just those same walls that he looked at everyday. As it turns out, he did end up being in jail for the rest of his life. He died recently while still serving his sentence. At his funeral, we played “Greystone Chapel” because, as he once put it, it inspired hope in a hopeless situation.
Anonymous, USA, Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968
I got married in 1968, just months after Johnny Cash created his most legendary performance at Folsom Prison in California. My wife’s brother was an inmate there at the time. He was one of the hardened criminals that was not allowed to be in the population during the performance. He was able to hear the concert though. I would like to show the letter that he wrote in the days following the concert, but it’s buried in a pile of papers. I remember reading how touched he was by the event though.
I remember one of the things he mentioned about Johnny Cash singing “Greystone Chapel” at the end of the concert. It was a song written by my brother-in-law’s friend, Glenn Sherley. He described Glenn as one of the nicest guys and he was just ecstatic for days following the concert because the legendary Johnny Cash basically immortalized him for singing his song. It was something that all of the inmates reveled in. Johnny Cash’s concert brought some cheer to lives of those inmates that day. Whether you think they deserve something like that or not is irrelevant. Johhny Cash looked at those men as humans who have made mistakes. He made mistakes in his life, too, so he could identify with those men. He didn’t judge them like everybody else had done.
I always wonder how many of those men were as touched as my brother-in-law was that day. He knew he was going to be in prison for possibly the rest of his life, but that day gave him hope that there was something more than just those same walls that he looked at everyday. As it turns out, he did end up being in jail for the rest of his life. He died recently while still serving his sentence. At his funeral, we played “Greystone Chapel” because, as he once put it, it inspired hope in a hopeless situation.
Fish and Chips in the Sun Newspapers 15p
Memory From:
Alan , ---- UK, Fish in the Sun Newspapers 15p
Chips from the local chippy wrapped in the sun newspaper with vinigar soaking through onto your hands for 15p and I was 14 and got page 3 Sun for free vinigar stains and all , and a bottle of Whites lemonade to wash them down
Alan , ---- UK, Fish in the Sun Newspapers 15p
Chips from the local chippy wrapped in the sun newspaper with vinigar soaking through onto your hands for 15p and I was 14 and got page 3 Sun for free vinigar stains and all , and a bottle of Whites lemonade to wash them down
Traditional Milkman
Posted By:
Jas, UK, Traditional Milkman delivering milk
When I was young I remember we had our milk delivered to our door and one of my jobs as a 9 year old in the winter was to bring the milk in before it exploded due to pushing the milk bottle cap off the top of the milk bottle and in the summer to get the milk off the doorstep and into the pantry before it went sour, We were also not as well informed regarding our health and my mum used to order gold top milk which meant it was much creamier and we know now also pretty bad for our cholesterol levels, I did enjoy it on my breakfast cereal which I think in those days was cornflakes. How our tastes change just a few years ago I had the opportunity to have my cereal with milk that was extra creamy and I hated it.
Jas, UK, Traditional Milkman delivering milk
When I was young I remember we had our milk delivered to our door and one of my jobs as a 9 year old in the winter was to bring the milk in before it exploded due to pushing the milk bottle cap off the top of the milk bottle and in the summer to get the milk off the doorstep and into the pantry before it went sour, We were also not as well informed regarding our health and my mum used to order gold top milk which meant it was much creamier and we know now also pretty bad for our cholesterol levels, I did enjoy it on my breakfast cereal which I think in those days was cornflakes. How our tastes change just a few years ago I had the opportunity to have my cereal with milk that was extra creamy and I hated it.
2000 Snowstorms
Memory From:
Zoe, United States, 2000 Snowstorms
In the winter of 2000 there was so much snow in Wisconsin that all of my friends and family took turns jumping off of the deck into a snow pile that must have been 4 feet tall. I thought it was dangerous but they all had fun.
Zoe, United States, 2000 Snowstorms
In the winter of 2000 there was so much snow in Wisconsin that all of my friends and family took turns jumping off of the deck into a snow pile that must have been 4 feet tall. I thought it was dangerous but they all had fun.
England Win World Cup 1966
Posted By:
England Supporter, England, The day we won the World Cup
I can still remember the day England won the 1966 World Cup beating Germany on
the 30 July 1966
Enland 4 Germany 2 with both winning goals coming in extra time
I was 14 and like the whole nation watched it on TV with my family, my mum sent me up to the shops at half time to get some milk and I did not see another soul except the shopkeeper who had set up a TV in the shop to watch the game ,
Anyone who watched the game will remember how tense it was and a mixture of not wanting to miss one second but everytime the German Team got the ball not wanting to watch incase they scored , when the great Geoff Hurst scored the two goals in extra time my mum kept saying and we all kept thinking blow the whistle.
Our whole family went mad when the final whistle was blown and I am sure like many other families that only had a passing interest in football on that day we became avid supporters and very few of the team from that day will be forgoten but just in case I have listed them below I couldn't remember some of the first names or all of the positions sorry about that
Gordon Banks
Cohen
Ray Wilson
Nobby Stiles
Jack Charlton
Bobby Moore
Ball
Hunt
Bobby Charlton
Geoff Hurst
Martin Peters
What a great day and what a memory
England Supporter, England, The day we won the World Cup
I can still remember the day England won the 1966 World Cup beating Germany on
the 30 July 1966
Enland 4 Germany 2 with both winning goals coming in extra time
I was 14 and like the whole nation watched it on TV with my family, my mum sent me up to the shops at half time to get some milk and I did not see another soul except the shopkeeper who had set up a TV in the shop to watch the game ,
Anyone who watched the game will remember how tense it was and a mixture of not wanting to miss one second but everytime the German Team got the ball not wanting to watch incase they scored , when the great Geoff Hurst scored the two goals in extra time my mum kept saying and we all kept thinking blow the whistle.
Our whole family went mad when the final whistle was blown and I am sure like many other families that only had a passing interest in football on that day we became avid supporters and very few of the team from that day will be forgoten but just in case I have listed them below I couldn't remember some of the first names or all of the positions sorry about that
Gordon Banks
Cohen
Ray Wilson
Nobby Stiles
Jack Charlton
Bobby Moore
Ball
Hunt
Bobby Charlton
Geoff Hurst
Martin Peters
What a great day and what a memory
McGwire Home Run 1998
Posted By
Baseball Fan, USA, McGwire Home Run 1998
I’ve been a baseball fan since I could first stumble my way up from my knees and toddle around with a baseball glove in my mouth and my cousin chasing after me. There’s something about that crisp spring and summer air, the freshly groomed field and the sensation of walking into a ballpark for an afternoon behind homeplate. For more than 20 years I’ve watched and cringed and shuddered and screamed as my own home team, the Seattle Mariners, rose and fell in the rankings, staging outrageous comebacks, monumental collapses, and cycled through some of the greatest players in the game.
Baseball is a game of ups and downs. Every true baseball fan knows you must wait out the downs for that one glorious up. Only one of the 30 teams can win the World Series every year, and for the other 29 it is a matter of patience, well timed booing and a religious dedication to the tics and habits that will guarantee future success.
In my freshman year of high school, almost 10 years ago now, something incredible happened. Today it has been repeatedly cheapened, lessened by the realization of what fueled the explosion, but at the time it was the most amazing sensation to just sit and watch as Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa roared their way through the record books, preparing to break one of the most revered records in baseball, Roger Maris’s hard fought and hard won homerun record, the magic number 61.
That summer was special for a number of reasons. Preparing for my first year in High School, only recently moved into a new city with a new set of friends, I was being pushed from my school once more into a new setting, the awe inducing architecture of a brand new high school and a crowd of peers who were most assuredly smarter than me.
I spent that summer doing any one of three things. First, I was reading and writing my assignments for the unnecessarily work congested English class I was preparing to enter. Second, I was outside, enjoying the glories of a Seattle summer – bright, sunny, and best of all, not quite too hot. I would cycle to the mall and back, grab water balloons for late night raids against my neighbors, and most of all, when all the kids in the neighborhood were around, pull out the softball bat my father bought me from a garage sale and play a sort of hybrid baseball in the street, knocking tennis balls as high as possible, trying to reach the peaks of the greatest evergreens planted around our homes.
The summer of 1998 bled baseball, oozing from every pore and surface of our being. When we were not thinking of baseball, we were playing baseball. When we were not playing baseball, we were collecting baseball cards. At one point, after a particularly expensive trip to a local sports card shop, my friend pulled a Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card from an ages old pack of Upper Deck trading cards. As Seattle natives, the Griffey rookie was the holy grail of sports cards, the gloriously clean edges and glossy finish cause for prostration and worship of the card gods.
But it was in June, when by the middle of the month Sammy Sosa had already knocked in 12 home runs…in June. By the all star break, both Sosa and McGwire were more than half way to breaking Maris’s record and for the rest of the season the two would battle constantly for position, knocking from the park homerun after home run.
At first, we watched casually, catching Sportscenter at 11 every night before bed. By the All-Star game, I was glued to my television every single day, watching stats, reading news reports on the internet, and checking the resultant prices of my rookie cards for each player. With every day, I spent less and less time reading and more time watching baseball.
And in August, when the games started airing every night on ESPN and ESPN 2, I was there, wide eyed and ignorant to the goings on in the world around me. Always quick to the possibility of history making events, I watched early and I watched often, but by the time school started at the end of August, my friends and brother were there with me as well, watching for that next homerun.
And when school started, that cavernous new building with 2000 people I did not know, I only found common ties in baseball, seeking out the nearest conversation about the home run race, making immediate friends.
And on September 8, 1998 as I was sitting on my bed, staring intently at one of the biggest series of the year, the much vaunted final meeting between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Chicago Cubs, both McGwire and Sosa’s teams respectively, trying my hardest to ignore my mother’s calls to take out the trash. I was transfixed, in a zone of my own, narrow enough to rival that of the greatest homerun hitters.
When McGwire hit that line drive shot over the left field wall in St. Louis, it was an amazing sensation of having watched history. I still don’t care that the record didn’t stand, or that he was likely taking something to enhance performance. That exact sensation in that exact moment was incredible. Like giddy school girls with fresh gossip I called my friends and they called me, all of us too excited to keep it to ourselves.
That kind of moment, bred over the course of six months of a grueling baseball schedule and the course of my own life every summer that makes baseball the best sport in the game.
Baseball Fan, USA, McGwire Home Run 1998
I’ve been a baseball fan since I could first stumble my way up from my knees and toddle around with a baseball glove in my mouth and my cousin chasing after me. There’s something about that crisp spring and summer air, the freshly groomed field and the sensation of walking into a ballpark for an afternoon behind homeplate. For more than 20 years I’ve watched and cringed and shuddered and screamed as my own home team, the Seattle Mariners, rose and fell in the rankings, staging outrageous comebacks, monumental collapses, and cycled through some of the greatest players in the game.
Baseball is a game of ups and downs. Every true baseball fan knows you must wait out the downs for that one glorious up. Only one of the 30 teams can win the World Series every year, and for the other 29 it is a matter of patience, well timed booing and a religious dedication to the tics and habits that will guarantee future success.
In my freshman year of high school, almost 10 years ago now, something incredible happened. Today it has been repeatedly cheapened, lessened by the realization of what fueled the explosion, but at the time it was the most amazing sensation to just sit and watch as Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa roared their way through the record books, preparing to break one of the most revered records in baseball, Roger Maris’s hard fought and hard won homerun record, the magic number 61.
That summer was special for a number of reasons. Preparing for my first year in High School, only recently moved into a new city with a new set of friends, I was being pushed from my school once more into a new setting, the awe inducing architecture of a brand new high school and a crowd of peers who were most assuredly smarter than me.
I spent that summer doing any one of three things. First, I was reading and writing my assignments for the unnecessarily work congested English class I was preparing to enter. Second, I was outside, enjoying the glories of a Seattle summer – bright, sunny, and best of all, not quite too hot. I would cycle to the mall and back, grab water balloons for late night raids against my neighbors, and most of all, when all the kids in the neighborhood were around, pull out the softball bat my father bought me from a garage sale and play a sort of hybrid baseball in the street, knocking tennis balls as high as possible, trying to reach the peaks of the greatest evergreens planted around our homes.
The summer of 1998 bled baseball, oozing from every pore and surface of our being. When we were not thinking of baseball, we were playing baseball. When we were not playing baseball, we were collecting baseball cards. At one point, after a particularly expensive trip to a local sports card shop, my friend pulled a Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card from an ages old pack of Upper Deck trading cards. As Seattle natives, the Griffey rookie was the holy grail of sports cards, the gloriously clean edges and glossy finish cause for prostration and worship of the card gods.
But it was in June, when by the middle of the month Sammy Sosa had already knocked in 12 home runs…in June. By the all star break, both Sosa and McGwire were more than half way to breaking Maris’s record and for the rest of the season the two would battle constantly for position, knocking from the park homerun after home run.
At first, we watched casually, catching Sportscenter at 11 every night before bed. By the All-Star game, I was glued to my television every single day, watching stats, reading news reports on the internet, and checking the resultant prices of my rookie cards for each player. With every day, I spent less and less time reading and more time watching baseball.
And in August, when the games started airing every night on ESPN and ESPN 2, I was there, wide eyed and ignorant to the goings on in the world around me. Always quick to the possibility of history making events, I watched early and I watched often, but by the time school started at the end of August, my friends and brother were there with me as well, watching for that next homerun.
And when school started, that cavernous new building with 2000 people I did not know, I only found common ties in baseball, seeking out the nearest conversation about the home run race, making immediate friends.
And on September 8, 1998 as I was sitting on my bed, staring intently at one of the biggest series of the year, the much vaunted final meeting between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Chicago Cubs, both McGwire and Sosa’s teams respectively, trying my hardest to ignore my mother’s calls to take out the trash. I was transfixed, in a zone of my own, narrow enough to rival that of the greatest homerun hitters.
When McGwire hit that line drive shot over the left field wall in St. Louis, it was an amazing sensation of having watched history. I still don’t care that the record didn’t stand, or that he was likely taking something to enhance performance. That exact sensation in that exact moment was incredible. Like giddy school girls with fresh gossip I called my friends and they called me, all of us too excited to keep it to ourselves.
That kind of moment, bred over the course of six months of a grueling baseball schedule and the course of my own life every summer that makes baseball the best sport in the game.
Snapping Turtle
Memory From:
Becca, United States, Snapping Turtle
I was visiting my girlfriend and while driving along, in the middle of the road was the largest snapping turtle I had ever seen, it must of been the size of a large dish. I did not want to run it over but I did remember my dad telling me they bit and did not let go so after parking the car I sort of helped it gently along with my foot to the other side of the road and all the time it was trying to bite my foot off while I was trying to save its life, but at the end of it I did feel better about myself and hope he / she did survive OK
Becca, United States, Snapping Turtle
I was visiting my girlfriend and while driving along, in the middle of the road was the largest snapping turtle I had ever seen, it must of been the size of a large dish. I did not want to run it over but I did remember my dad telling me they bit and did not let go so after parking the car I sort of helped it gently along with my foot to the other side of the road and all the time it was trying to bite my foot off while I was trying to save its life, but at the end of it I did feel better about myself and hope he / she did survive OK
First Computers
Posted By
Steve, United Kingdom, First Computers
My first computer was a Tandy TRS80 with a Mono screen, cassette to load games and software, small keyboard and built in Basic programming Language, At that time Internet was not available so like many Home Computer users each time a new magazine came out, I would rush off to buy the magazine and they would often have programmes printed in the magazine which you would need to type in manually, between the magazine making typos and my errors when entering programme the longer and more complicated the programme was the more likely it did not work after spending upwards of 4hrs entering the code. Any games I played by todays standards would appear as poor graphics but I did spend many hours playing text based adventures and they seemed to keep me amused. But I did learn a lot about computers and some of that knowledge helped me get my first job in the computer industry. When I think back I must have spent a lot on computers in those days in comparison to what I was earning as I seem to remember having a new computer to play with every 6 months, they were changing so fast it was difficult to keep up with the latest innovations. below are some of the computers I owned in that period Tandy TRS80 --- Commodore PET --- Commodore 64 --- Sinclair ZX81 --- Sinclair ZX Spectrum --- Acorn BBC computer --- Atari Games machine --- Lynx64 --- Amstrad PC 1512 ---
I think the same applied when I got my first PC as I never seemed to keep any longer than a year as the speed, memory, hard disc capacity, graphics, sound and external storage improved at such a rapid rate. Over the last few years I seem to get longer and longer from my PC's. They do not run out of disc space and the S/W and H/W changes but not at the same pace. But I also wonder if part of the reason I do not change my PC so often is due to my age ? Currently am waiting till next version of Microsoft Operating System is available Windows Vista prior to upgrading PC, possibly will also wait for 6 months after launch to find out how many bugs are in new OS.
Steve, United Kingdom, First Computers
My first computer was a Tandy TRS80 with a Mono screen, cassette to load games and software, small keyboard and built in Basic programming Language, At that time Internet was not available so like many Home Computer users each time a new magazine came out, I would rush off to buy the magazine and they would often have programmes printed in the magazine which you would need to type in manually, between the magazine making typos and my errors when entering programme the longer and more complicated the programme was the more likely it did not work after spending upwards of 4hrs entering the code. Any games I played by todays standards would appear as poor graphics but I did spend many hours playing text based adventures and they seemed to keep me amused. But I did learn a lot about computers and some of that knowledge helped me get my first job in the computer industry. When I think back I must have spent a lot on computers in those days in comparison to what I was earning as I seem to remember having a new computer to play with every 6 months, they were changing so fast it was difficult to keep up with the latest innovations. below are some of the computers I owned in that period Tandy TRS80 --- Commodore PET --- Commodore 64 --- Sinclair ZX81 --- Sinclair ZX Spectrum --- Acorn BBC computer --- Atari Games machine --- Lynx64 --- Amstrad PC 1512 ---
I think the same applied when I got my first PC as I never seemed to keep any longer than a year as the speed, memory, hard disc capacity, graphics, sound and external storage improved at such a rapid rate. Over the last few years I seem to get longer and longer from my PC's. They do not run out of disc space and the S/W and H/W changes but not at the same pace. But I also wonder if part of the reason I do not change my PC so often is due to my age ? Currently am waiting till next version of Microsoft Operating System is available Windows Vista prior to upgrading PC, possibly will also wait for 6 months after launch to find out how many bugs are in new OS.
Finding Myself, Finding Amelia
Posted By
Words From Amelia, USA, Finding Myself, Finding Amelia
Finding Amelia was like I said above, finding myself. It is a cross between “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” and “Steel Magnolias”. You could just find someone walking an imaginary dog or two down the quiet downtown streets of Fernandina or you will find all the blue-haired ladies chatting about the day’s events at all the local beauty salons. It is a community not only rich in its history, but rich in its loyalty to each other.
I started traveling to Amelia in 1993; my oldest son was only 6 months old then. He spent his first Christmas flirting at the Ritz for dinner, strolling with me on the beautiful beaches, and learning just how cute he was. I became hypnotized by the tranquility of the walks through Ft. Clinch’s live oak covered path and the hum of the life of the town in Fernandina Beach. Watching dolphins and whales migrate up and down the coast is a sight that is a staple for those that live year-round on this wonderful patch of sand. Peaceful and serene is what you get when you walk out onto the beaches or trails of this majestic setting.
The memories which make this my home, is not just the island, but the people in it. From Mr. Felix on his bike who will play “Brown-Eyed Girl” (even though mine are green!) every time he sees me, Mr. Bob –the man, the myth, the legend and Ms.Cyndi who will take you on the most magical horse-drawn tour of down town you have ever had, to Mr. Willie who has single handedly but a whole new perspective on the ‘South’ for me. I learned that being on this island isn’t just about buying a home; it was about buying into the culture and experiences that surround you in this town. I have found just some of the greatest people. Who knew that just buy remodeling your home, you could strike up one of the greatest friendships in the world. I also have realized that it is not the quantity in which your friends are but the quality in which they come in. I may not have many, but the ones that I have acquired along the way are like fine wine, they get better with age and time.
So, I thank you Amelia. I thank you for the memories, the ability to learn my strengths and weaknesses. To learn that my courage does not need to be a constant wall around me and that it is OK to say “help” when the occasion calls for it. I mostly thank you Amelia for my new found friends, for they are the real reason the south is the greatest place to call home. For this is the place where crazy is put on the front porch, we all pour ourselves a glass of sweet tea, pull up a chair and watch.
For more writing from this talented writer
visit Words From Amelia
Words From Amelia, USA, Finding Myself, Finding Amelia
Finding Amelia was like I said above, finding myself. It is a cross between “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” and “Steel Magnolias”. You could just find someone walking an imaginary dog or two down the quiet downtown streets of Fernandina or you will find all the blue-haired ladies chatting about the day’s events at all the local beauty salons. It is a community not only rich in its history, but rich in its loyalty to each other.
I started traveling to Amelia in 1993; my oldest son was only 6 months old then. He spent his first Christmas flirting at the Ritz for dinner, strolling with me on the beautiful beaches, and learning just how cute he was. I became hypnotized by the tranquility of the walks through Ft. Clinch’s live oak covered path and the hum of the life of the town in Fernandina Beach. Watching dolphins and whales migrate up and down the coast is a sight that is a staple for those that live year-round on this wonderful patch of sand. Peaceful and serene is what you get when you walk out onto the beaches or trails of this majestic setting.
The memories which make this my home, is not just the island, but the people in it. From Mr. Felix on his bike who will play “Brown-Eyed Girl” (even though mine are green!) every time he sees me, Mr. Bob –the man, the myth, the legend and Ms.Cyndi who will take you on the most magical horse-drawn tour of down town you have ever had, to Mr. Willie who has single handedly but a whole new perspective on the ‘South’ for me. I learned that being on this island isn’t just about buying a home; it was about buying into the culture and experiences that surround you in this town. I have found just some of the greatest people. Who knew that just buy remodeling your home, you could strike up one of the greatest friendships in the world. I also have realized that it is not the quantity in which your friends are but the quality in which they come in. I may not have many, but the ones that I have acquired along the way are like fine wine, they get better with age and time.
So, I thank you Amelia. I thank you for the memories, the ability to learn my strengths and weaknesses. To learn that my courage does not need to be a constant wall around me and that it is OK to say “help” when the occasion calls for it. I mostly thank you Amelia for my new found friends, for they are the real reason the south is the greatest place to call home. For this is the place where crazy is put on the front porch, we all pour ourselves a glass of sweet tea, pull up a chair and watch.
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1950s One Room School House
Posted By
Kathy, Canada, BRENDA TAPLEY REMEMBER A ONE ROOM SCHOOL HOUSE
I attended a one room school house in Middleton, New Brunswick. It was Middleton School # 3, between the village of Dorchester and Upper Dorchester. The Memramcook River ran behind the school about a half a mile way, ( and so did) the railway tracks. There was a large open field at the back and also on both sides of the school.
It was 1951-52 (and) I was six years old and the only pupil in Grade 1, so my lessons were first in the morning. I had to go up to the teacher’s desk and she would go over the lesson. There weren’t any pupils in Grade 2, a few in Grades 3-8. The rest of the day I would sit and listen to what was being taught to the other pupils. If I got bored, I would ask to be excused-- which meant (going) to the outhouse—and I would play with a rust colored Terrier, that used to follow the kids to school and wait for them. On rainy days I remember he was very smelly, and his coat was very coarse, but I like him a lot.
The next year we were sent to the “big school” in the village, attending Grades 2 and 3. I aced both grades with 97% averages, having remembered paying attention in the one room school, at least most of the time. The teacher’s name was Clare MacDonald. She lived in the village of Dorchester and took the SMT bus to school each day. She had greyish hair, wore make-up and lipstick, and always smelled clean. Her desk was at the front of the class and the school bell always sat on the front right hand side of her desk.
She was a very nice teacher.
To enter the school was through a side door into a porch and the coats were hung along the back wall. Another door went into the classroom, (and) there was a long wood stove at the back of the room. In the winter it was very warm. There were 3 long narrow windows on either side of the room, and a galvanized water cooler sat on a table at the front of the classroom. To get a glass of water, one had to push on the spout – quite a task for a 6 year old. Most of the time I walked to school, about two miles, except when it was raining or really cold and stormy – then my grandfather would drive me in his old grey Ford truck. I remember going to school one day and the door was locked and there
wasn’t a soul around. Luckily, I got a drive that day, so we went back home to hear on the radio that King George VI had passed away.
Attending a one room school had advantages such as knowing everyone, and looking out for one another – a secure feeling. The disadvantages were the other classes being taught at different time, making it difficult to concentrate on your own studies. I enjoyed my one year in the one room school, and I’m glad that I had this experience.
Kathy, Canada, BRENDA TAPLEY REMEMBER A ONE ROOM SCHOOL HOUSE
I attended a one room school house in Middleton, New Brunswick. It was Middleton School # 3, between the village of Dorchester and Upper Dorchester. The Memramcook River ran behind the school about a half a mile way, ( and so did) the railway tracks. There was a large open field at the back and also on both sides of the school.
It was 1951-52 (and) I was six years old and the only pupil in Grade 1, so my lessons were first in the morning. I had to go up to the teacher’s desk and she would go over the lesson. There weren’t any pupils in Grade 2, a few in Grades 3-8. The rest of the day I would sit and listen to what was being taught to the other pupils. If I got bored, I would ask to be excused-- which meant (going) to the outhouse—and I would play with a rust colored Terrier, that used to follow the kids to school and wait for them. On rainy days I remember he was very smelly, and his coat was very coarse, but I like him a lot.
The next year we were sent to the “big school” in the village, attending Grades 2 and 3. I aced both grades with 97% averages, having remembered paying attention in the one room school, at least most of the time. The teacher’s name was Clare MacDonald. She lived in the village of Dorchester and took the SMT bus to school each day. She had greyish hair, wore make-up and lipstick, and always smelled clean. Her desk was at the front of the class and the school bell always sat on the front right hand side of her desk.
She was a very nice teacher.
To enter the school was through a side door into a porch and the coats were hung along the back wall. Another door went into the classroom, (and) there was a long wood stove at the back of the room. In the winter it was very warm. There were 3 long narrow windows on either side of the room, and a galvanized water cooler sat on a table at the front of the classroom. To get a glass of water, one had to push on the spout – quite a task for a 6 year old. Most of the time I walked to school, about two miles, except when it was raining or really cold and stormy – then my grandfather would drive me in his old grey Ford truck. I remember going to school one day and the door was locked and there
wasn’t a soul around. Luckily, I got a drive that day, so we went back home to hear on the radio that King George VI had passed away.
Attending a one room school had advantages such as knowing everyone, and looking out for one another – a secure feeling. The disadvantages were the other classes being taught at different time, making it difficult to concentrate on your own studies. I enjoyed my one year in the one room school, and I’m glad that I had this experience.
A Family Tale
Posted By
A Family Tale, United States, 1970's
I grew up in a leave it to Beaver Home and in June of 1974, my family went out to eat and on the way home we were in a teribble car accident in which I lost my Father, Mother, and two sisters immediatly....the tragedy did'nt stop there....I am in the process of writting and publishing my book... I am pumped and this will help me to heal and to finally move on. If my book can help several others who have encountered trials in their life...it will have made it all worth while. May God Bless all of you who read this.
A Family Tale, United States, 1970's
I grew up in a leave it to Beaver Home and in June of 1974, my family went out to eat and on the way home we were in a teribble car accident in which I lost my Father, Mother, and two sisters immediatly....the tragedy did'nt stop there....I am in the process of writting and publishing my book... I am pumped and this will help me to heal and to finally move on. If my book can help several others who have encountered trials in their life...it will have made it all worth while. May God Bless all of you who read this.
Cars I have owned
Memory From:
Mike, United Kingdom, Cars I have owned
I can not remember the years I owned each of these cars and am sure I have missed a couple, it was much harder than I thought it would be to remember them all let alone the dates I had them
Ford Anglia 105E
MG Midget
Triumph Herald
Ford Zepher
Austin Mini
Austin Maxi
Volkswagen Beetle
Ford Escort XR3I
Nissan Micra
BMW 3 Series
Subaru Imprezza
Mike, United Kingdom, Cars I have owned
I can not remember the years I owned each of these cars and am sure I have missed a couple, it was much harder than I thought it would be to remember them all let alone the dates I had them
Ford Anglia 105E
MG Midget
Triumph Herald
Ford Zepher
Austin Mini
Austin Maxi
Volkswagen Beetle
Ford Escort XR3I
Nissan Micra
BMW 3 Series
Subaru Imprezza
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