Egad (as my mother used to say). Childhood was a scary time.
A week after visiting my first childhood home in Burgessville [link to earlier post - brilliant] and telling my siblings by email how the property had changed (I included a lovely photo, circa 1954, in which it’s pretty clear I’d peed my pants. Egad... the hits just keep on comin’), I received this note from an older sister.
[GAH on left; Sisters Lannie and Dale (the two tallest girls) on right]
Dear Gord,
Yes, I remember Mrs. Hilliker. I used to call her Mrs. Helicopter, because I couldn't say her name. I used to go over to visit her once in awhile, and she had a huge conch, on the floor, under a cabinet.
She would let me listen to the conch, and tell me to listen to the ocean. Then she’d ask, could I hear it? I certainly, did, and listened to it every time I went over. Lannie says she used to board with us before she moved to her new home next door, but I don't remember that.
I remember the pigs dad had, and remember one occasion when he brought them into the house, one by one, to pull out their teeth, I guess so they couldn't fight. They squealed something terrible, and I guess it made quite an impression on me. I'd like to see a complete picture of the old house, and yes it was brick.
See you soon, love, Dale
PS I like your chair.
Fortunately, I don’t recall the pig incident.
By the looks of the old photo, I was likely playing outside in a pile of dirt.
***
The chair she refers to is in a post below - again, brilliant.
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