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So the other day at work, I was listening to my iPod at work and a bunch of older songs came on, mainly the old KISS stuff. Well it made me start remembering when I was a kid in the late 70's. And it made me a little sad. But first the good stuff. I was so obsessed with KISS. Our basement became my hangout. I had my own little stereo. It was an eight track player with speakers and a record player. I could go down there and play it loud and it didn't bother anyone, not even Mom and Dad. When mom wanted me she would flip the light on the stairs on and off to get my attention. I had KISS posters, pictures and stuff all over the walls. It was awesome!

But what I couldn't help but think about was the way our neighborhood was back then. You see, I lived with my Great-Grandparents. They raised me and their house was my home. Let me tell you a little about it.

We lived on Maple St and another street came in across from us in a T intersection. It was Holcome St. So across the street at the corner of Holcome and Maple was Frank and Rose Barber. He drove a coal truck and I remember watching him come home a lot. The truck was big, bigger then anything else on the block. On the other corner of Holcome and Maple was Irene and Rubin Sexton. They were good friends with my parents, and an older couple. He worked at Barker's Department store. I grew up calling them Uncle Rube and Aunt Irene.

Up on Main was Garnet Carcio who worked at our Store. (Dad was the local Pharmacist and owned the pharmacy) Our store was Horton Brothers and Brown.

My next door neighbors on one side where the Bakers, who owned Bakers Department store. Van and Justine Baker with their two sons. Van Jr and Boyd. I grew up playing with Van and Boyd. They were my best buds till about the time I hit 12 years old.

Now our street met Main St. We lived about 5 blocks from the middle of downtown Grayson. As I got older I could walk or ride my bike to town by myself.

But anyways, I am getting off track as to way thinking about this makes me sad. You see I realized that all the good people like that are gone. They have all passed on. And those of us who are left don't even live there anymore. I mean I'm gone, living in MN, Boyd lives out in California and last I heard Van lived in Ohio or something. Van Sr. passed away, along with Uncle Rube, Aunt Irene, Frank and Rose Barber and Aunt Garnet. Mom and Dad are gone too. It was a great place to grow up. Good neighbors, good town. Its sad that they are all gone. I almost broke down at work and cried.

I'm flying home in a few weeks for my High School reunion and I will go to my old house, it's owned now by with woman who gave birth to me. I call her Vicki, because she been more like an older sister then my mom. I don't mean that in a mean way its just the way things played out. But I will look around that neighborhood and remember those faces of those people. It is all strangers living in those houses except for my old place and the Barbers. Their grandson owns their old house now. Its sad. But I will do my best to remember the good stuff. But it will be hard.

A beginning...

Well, here it is...a start...my start I guess. I keep thinking I really want to blog. So I have decided to try it. What is it going to hurt? Nothing I think. Possibly an outlet for me, we'll see if I can really do this. I'm sure, if I stick with this, will be full of rambling posts. I tend to ramble and sometimes get off track. See? I'm already doing it. This might be harder then I thought.


So I was trying to think of something to write about. It is the one thing I have the most problem with. I will sit down to write something and my mind goes blank for a topic. So I decided to type in google one day, blog idea generator. Well sure enough there are some. How about that.. so I pick one and one of the first ideas that come up is "Write about your memories when you were a certain age." Thats not a bad one actually. So I will tell you of one of my first memories.

The very first memory I have is of being loved. I can see the picture in my mind even today just as clear as it was then. I was an infant (Yes I really can remember this) My great grandmother was rocking me in a red rocking chair. This chair was in our house all though my childhood. Anyway, she was rocking me and I don't remember a bottle so my guess was I had a passy instead. It was late, late enough that the TV was showing nothing but snow. (Back in the day of 3 TV channels and they signed off at midnight or 1am) The TV was the only light on and the rocking chair would "walk" back through the living room. We had a gray short napped carpet and the TV was a black and white, and stood on 4 short legs. I just remember being there in her arms and feeling loved, content and happy.

I know this to be a real memory because years later when I was still a child I told her I remember her rocking me when I was a baby. She laughed at first as if she didn't believe me but then I began to describe to her the room and other details. She sat there with her mouth open surprised but she said it had to be true. She did that more then a few times with me as an infant and the room was changed a bit not long after including their first color TV! This is the only real memory I have at that age.

Of course she is gone now, I don't live there anymore but I still remember. She raised me, her and my great grandfather. I was lucky to have them with me into my thirties. I'm in my mid forties now and I miss them everyday. I don't think there is a day that goes by that I don't think of them.

Not a bad start if I say so myself.