Remembering

taken in 1967 at our Stone House farm in Illinois.   son Ric about 10...daughter Kathy  teen...family cat Fabian                                                                                                                                                repost

      ...Today... Sunday June 29th 2014 is the first year anniversary of this blog.

Seems like we just started it a few weeks ago.

So we’ll be reminiscing a bit...as the whole thing started because my late daughter Kathy(see pic of Kathy and her brother Ric)... wanted me to put some memories down on paper...which she could help re-write into a possible book form. 

Sadly...we lost her to cancer before that could happen.  I went ahead anyway as my son Chris wanted the memories...and my other son Ric (through no fault of his own) never really got to know me...so they would both have something when I was gone...and additionally... my stepkids Jeffrey and Morgan could enjoy the memories.

474 posts in 365 days of blogging.

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A memoir in honor of my late daughter Kathy...whose idea this was...and for my sons, Chris & Richard, and my step children Morgan and Jeff.

...by Stan Major

I was born in Paris........alas Paris, Illinois and not Paris France dammit.

The only good thing about where we lived was the big park across the street.     When you’re Dad is off to war...my Dad served in both the great wars....the park is the next best thing.  I think I spent more time there than any place else.  For a kid in his early years it was great.

Then while my Dad was building airstrips in Persia for the great lend lease shipments to Leningrad...my Mom took the park away by deciding to move us to Brownsville, Texas where my oldest sister had married a sailor.  I was about five at the time.

Three things I remember about Southern Texas.  It was really hot..so hot  we had to be in school early...real early...but Mom always managed to stop at the tortilla factory on the way home and I loved tortillas...

The second thing I remember were the many tunnels near the Rio Grande river.  The other kids had me convinced that they dug them out...it was later in life I realized who really dug them but I can truly say I never met a Mexican in the vast tunnels we used to play in all afternoon.

My last and most vivid memory of living in south Texas was walking on Boca Chica beach where we constantly had to scan the water for those German U-boats,,,(they later found one sunk) and stepping on a squishy dead shark while not looking where I was going!  A kid doesn’t ever forget something like that!

Oh yes...we had to be dragged out of bed about 2AM one morning because President Roosevelt was come down on his train to meet the President of Mexico about something.  Needless to say FDR was tucked away sleeping comfortably so all we got to see was a slow moving fancy train going by. 

    Not really one of the highlights of my brief Texas stay.

Now in my retirement one of my favorite movies is Winds of War and I kinda wish I’d been able to see FDR.  He was quite a guy.

  So now you know what was going on when I came into the world.

FIRST POST ON NEW BLOG...June 29, 2013

my email:

stanmajor@aol.com