Childhood Memories
Childhood memories. I decided to write an autobiography on childhood memories. This seems to be a good topic for my blog. I am willing to share. Others could relate to my experiences. Unfortunately, I am the kind of person who actually remembers mostly sad and bad things more quickly than I remember the good things that happened to me in my childhood memories.
When my mother became pregnant with me she was on her way to a divorce. My father turned out to be a bigamist, liar, and con man. Before my mother married Edwin Lyons, we lived in Bakersfield, California.
My mother has always worked as a waitress throughout our lives. My grandmother, Eva OGwin, we all called Momma, took care of me while my mother worked. Of course, I became very attached to my grandmother and didn’t want much to do with my mother. Momma also took care of my two boy cousins Rusty and Ronny, who belonged to my Aunt Opal. Rusty (Gary) is three years older than me and Ronny was two years older than me, deceased at the age of 45 from cancer. I was born in 1948. My father’s name was Joseph John Paige. Before I was born, my mother found out he was a bigamist. Still married to his first wife. He had four children with him. At the time he bought my mothers wedding ring from a friend and the check bounced. Mother had him prosecuted and he spent 1 and 1/2 years in San Quintin. In Bakersfield, my mother wrote the prison to tell my father he had a girl. My mother told me when he got out of prison he came to Bakersfield to see me. Took me out for the day and gave me a photo album he made in prison. I still have it to this day. I do not remember this day. I was only one year old. His best friend in prison was a murder. Joseph having a prison record had totally ruined his life. Those of you who are thinking of breaking the law, don’t do it. It will follow you the rest of your life and good jobs usually won’t hire people who have a record.
Childhood memories. When my mother worked, Momma took care of all three of us. When my boy cousins wanted to go somewhere and I wanted to go with them, she would tell me a Big Black Boogy Man would jump out from behind the bushes and get me. This was supposed to keep me from wanting to go with my cousins. Apparently, it worked very well. I do not remember this part of my life as well. What I do remember is my mother meeting someone in Holtville, California, named Edwin Lyons, married him. I was told that she wanted to get me away from my grandmother. We moved to Holtville. Edwin adopted me and I was two years old. One year later they had my little sister Debbie. Our birthdays are one week exactly apart. Mine is August 23 and Debbie’s is August 16.
Remembering My Childhood At It’s Earliest
Childhood memories. The earliest that I remember is when I was around three. All the family was gathered around the kitchen table and people were crying. My father, who adopted me when I was two, was crying. They were talking about grandpa passing away. I do not remember why but everyone was so sad.
My Scary Story
Childhood memories. Remember me telling you about my grandmother scaring me to keep me from going somewhere with my cousins? She did a very good job installing the Big Black Boogeyman in my memories. Every night until I was nine years old I had the same bad dream. I was being chased by a Big Black Boogeyman. There was always a bush next to me while I was running. Every night I would have to sleep with one of my parents because I woke up screaming. When I was nine, I was sleeping with my mother, which was a nightmare in its self. If you moved it would wake her up and she would scream at you. One night I was sleeping with her and I felt someone staring at me. I sat up in bed and looked to see who it was. My grandmother who lived over 400 miles away, was standing at the end of the bed, laughing and wringing her hands. She started to reach for me and I started screaming bloody murder. Woke everyone up in the house. The next day, I was afraid to go to the bathroom by myself because I was afraid I would see her coming after me again. That night after all those years, broke the spell of having the Boobyman dream. I never had it again. To this day I can see that Boobyman chasing me like it was yesterday and I’m 68. That is something that will never leave my memory.
Memories of the Life Starting In Holtville
Childhood memories. We lived in a house that I believe my step grand mother owned. It was a small stucco house. I remember it having a trailless on the side of the house with vines and flowers growing across up and over the trailless. There was a swing set I used to swing in all the time.One day I was swinging and looked up at the trailless and to my amazement, there was a monkey swinging on the vines. I ran into the house to get my mother, Louise, to show her the monkey. When she came out to the trailless and looked up nothing was there. No monkey. She called me a liar and went back into the house. I guess I was around three. Later on my mother heard that one of the monkeys in the cage at the park escaped. So I wasn’t lying after all. I don’t believe she apologized to me about calling me a liar, but at least she found out I was telling the truth. Another childhood memory. I had a little friend who lived a couple of doors down that I played with quite frequently. One morning I wanted to go and play with him. My mother said that he wasn’t home and I insisted that he was. She grabbed my arm and dragged me down to his house. She knocked on the door. No one answered. He was not home. Mother then dragged me all the way home whipping me with a broom because I called her a liar. I was still about three years old.Another thing I remember living in that house in Holtville, California, is my parents, Eddie and Louise, had brought home my little sister Debra, from the hospital. My parents hired a Mexican woman who came from the mountains in Mexico. She did not speak a word of english. The woman would do the laundry. She carried a basket of clothes on her head and my sister on her back while she hung up cloths on the line outside. I remember my mother asking what the woman was saying and I would have to translate to my mother what was being said. Apparently I could speak and understand spanish at the time. I have totally lost that ability.
Childhood memories, My Uncle Alfred and Aunt Dorothy, Sandy and Diane, my cousins, lived next door. One day I was over that their house at someone’s birthday party. Someone said something that really made me mad. I don’t remember what it was. I jumped on my tricycle and headed downtown to find my mother. Holtville was very small but to a three year old it was a very big place. I peddled all the way down town. My mother heard about and and went looking for me. She found me in front of the post office. She put my tricycle in her car and me and drove me back home. That is pretty much all I remember but I do remember pedaling and pedaling to find my mother. It’s funny the things that little kids remember. Holtville was a desert town and it was not unusual for little kids to just wear their underwear. My mother tried to keep cloths on me but to no avail. One time she had these jeans that she put on me, and found them in the little pond in front of our house. I think she gave up trying to keep clothes on me. I remember us having to go somewhere and she got us in the car. Little kids stood up in the front seat in those days and when whoever was driving had to stop, an arm was thrown in front of the kid to keep them from falling into the dash board. My mother kept smelling something. She looked in my underwear. Low and behold I had pooped in my pants. She grabbed me and took me back into the house to change my underwear.
