RECALLING CHERISHED MEMORIES
By Olivene Godfrey
My sister, Jeanette says she doesn't have any childhood memories. I, on the other hand, have memories of my childhood more vivid than I do about what happened recently.
When I talk to Barry about my early memories, he thinks my family was strange, to say the least. I say we were fairly typical of old Southern families of that time.
Still, some of my memories are unusual. I can remember when my daddy would stroll through the house loudly quoting Edgar Allen Poe's spooky poem, "The Raven." Then, some nights daddy would slip out of the house and return with a white sheet over his head, waving his arms, and making ghostly sounds. My sisters and I knew the ghost was daddy but we were still scared. One such night when he was especially ghostly, Jeanette who was five or six said in a little girl voice, "daddy, let me be your little girl." We were all relieved when daddy removed the sheet and hugged all of us.
I remember when my parents and several friends would cook and eat exotic dishes on Saturday nights. We kids ate hamburgers in the kitchen.
And every Saturday, mother and daddy loaded us kids in the back seat of our car and drove to downtown Chattanooga to "pay bills." And, my parents would buy hot tamales from a street vendor and stand out on the sidewalk and eat them.
I remember summer days, laying on my back in the high sage grass that grew near our house. I watched the cloud formations and daydreamed about my future. Years later, when I met my English friend, Annie, she told me that she did the same thing when she was a child. Annie said she just "knew" that one day she would leave England. And, she has become a world traveler since those days.
I was only four when my sister Jeanette and her twin, Joan, who passed away a few years ago, was born. I was so proud of them. I didn't feel envious of all the attention they received. But, sometimes I would get lonely when my parents were busy caring for the babies. One day daddy had to go to a drug store nearby. He took me with him, but told me to wait in the car. Shortly, a "soda jerk" came to the car with a huge chocolate soda for me on a tray. I can still remember how special I felt as I drank the soda daddy had sent me.
Then daddy would read the "funnies" in the daily newspaper to me at night. As I grew older, he would read little news articles to me. I think that was when my love affair with newspapers began.
See you next time. Comments welcome. (As told to Tam)
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