Pacific Beach was a wonderful place to grow up in, and especially in the 30’s and 40’s. It was beside the ocean and not heavily populated. Crime was almost unheard of. If a family had a car there was only one. In the 30’s most of the streets were sand. We had fields of wild oats around us to play in. Our nearest neighbors were at least a block away by today’s measurements.
My earliest memory, I’m told was when I was 18 months old at Aunt Marguerite’s wedding to Roy Forsnas. That morning Mom and Grandma wanted me to take Castor Oil with an orange off the tree in the back yard. I objected because I didn’t want to mix something I liked with the bad stuff. But I couldn’t get them to understand so I took it.
That same day I remember toddling around in the living room of the manse in Peoria, Arizona. I was looking up at all the tall people milling about with dishes of cake and tea or coffee. They all seemed so big from my low position. Years later, Aunt Marguerite told me that this was the reception for her wedding and I was about 18 months old.
I remember in the 30’s, during the great depression, that money was hard to come by. A door to door salesman was trying to get Mom to buy something and she said no, she didn’t have the money. He replied that at least her family had a regular income and he didn’t. But he didn’t get the sale. He also thought I looked like Miriam who Mom was babysitting for our minister. He said something that led mom to think he thought Miriam was also Mom’s child.
Next I will talk more about my experiences during the Depression.