Life in the 50's

About a year after my birth, my parents moved to the farm which would be my home until I graduated from high school. The house was rather old and over a mile from town, but it met our needs. We had an outside well for our water, an outhouse for our bathroom, and a shanty attached to the house which we used for storage. I remember that mom told me not to go in there. (In case you were wondering, if I needed a bathroom in the middle of the night, I used a chamber pot and emptied it the next morning.) When I was about 5, my parents tore down the old house and built a new one on the same spot. We still had the well for our water source, but we had indoor plumbing then.

Right after I turned 3, my mom brought home a new sister for me whom they named Paula. I don't think I liked that very well because I was used to all of the attention. My most vivid memory of that time was when I dropped her. I was probably 4 years old. My parents were working outside, and Paula was taking a nap upstairs. My mom told me to come and get her if Paula woke up. Well, being an independent child, I thought I knew better than my mom. I tried to carry her down the steps and fell down with her. I think the fall hurt me worse than her, but I learned a valuable lesson. As she got old enough, we played together all the time, but we had our serious squabbles as well.

Since my small town school had no kindergarten, my mom taught me at home how to read and do simple arithmetic problems. I was very proud of myself. I vividly remember sitting on my grandfather's lap and having him give me addition and subtraction problems to do by myself. Of course, he complimented me profusely and that made me want to do even harder problems. At that time, a child had to be 6 years old by December 31 to enter 1st grade the next September. With my birthday on January 17, I was always the oldest in my class. I guess that is part of the reason why my mom taught me at home; I was VERY anxious to go to school.