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| Show And Tell II | |
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pidunk 10:42 am UTC 06/07/07 |
| In reply to: | sorry I didn't get all the tags right. - pidunk 06:58 am UTC 06/07/07 |
> > > > > > > > >Could you shed some light on the subject? The Second House: Back to Long Island, we'd spent around two and a half years in Pennsylvania (12/58 to 6/61) and then went to my mother's sister's house in another town of Long Island than we lived in before. While there, the new location was chosen. The builder was not going to get the funds unless he certified to Jim's father that he had seen me in his office. So my mother took me with her and explained to me that a man will give money to the builder if he sees me. The builder asked, "Is this the little girl?" My mother said yes, and the house design commenced. Custom built, from the ground up. We visited the site during the various stages. The foundation. The wood frame. The black scoring of the insulation. The inside wood invisible walls and invisible stairs. The painted exterior. The windows. Eventually, it was finished. We moved in at the beginning of the second week of April of 1962. My mother told me again, it was mine. Her husband was again writing rent checks, this time to the builder. Jim concurred that it was mine when we spoke of it. Logically of course a little girl need not be present for a rental, a man isn't going to finance the building to the builder for the builder not to relinquish the property, and so all things considered, no reason existed to doubt. And I tried to tell my mother's husband the truth, not just this time but the time before. It is hard to believe a small child. Ahead of my move into that house was my biological father's family. A man and a wife, but a different wife this time, and the eldest of the two sons who was my soon to be disclosed directly, biological father. His house was the first of the houses I saw in that area when his younger brother had his birthday party there. House locations are estimated because the street that I'd lived on was dessimated. Once a cul de sac it is now a developed through street that forms a loop. Some houses were demolished or moved in accommodation to the expansion. Using some markers I apply, I make my best guess as to which house is which. 1: The house where the birthday party was that year of not just my uncle, but also my biological father and I who shared his wn party with me as he had wished to, as our birthdays are within the same week. I was in that house some time after when he attempted to show me how to use a telephone. But as in the words of Erin Brockavich to her boss, I sucked at it. 2: My house. White, white, white. With black trim and grey roof. A wood patio with stairs in the rear, and a lower level mud room opening to the backyard. 3: The Steinman residence. Here was my Jim's aunt, and elder Jim's home with his parents. For some reason they didn't want grass in the backyard so they had it paved altogether. Made it simple, it was said. A basketball hoop was installed in the front driveway. On July 1, 1962 my Jim was playing with other boys at that hoop court, and I was walking by. Jim shouted, "I'm going to marry you!" I stopped. He approached me, leaving the boys behind. "I'm going to marry you" he repeated. "I'm too young to get married." I said. "Not now, when you are older." I was not so sure about that. Why should I believe he would marry me? He spoke about what he perceived and how important it was to him, and said "Maybe I should ask you. Will you marry me?" Again, I had to have more information. He told me something he noticed, asked me if I saw it too, and I thought...."Yes, I see it. We'll plan to get married." Thus, we were engaged, with continued discussions on this day and the next day about it. Locations 9 and 10 is where that took place. Then he walked me back to the front porch of my house. 4: He took to walking me to my schoolbus in the mornings when school started,m which was in this general direction. One day, the elder Jim walked me in a prearranged substitution so that I could meet him and he could meet me. At this particular morning walk was where this era with Jim ended as he told me he had to return to California to attend his own school. The bus stop was itself further down the block than the photo can show. 5: The house next door to me of my then best girlfriend whose name was Tracy. There was no provision for keeping in touch with her, and so when I moved away, no contact remained. 7: The house of another playmate who hosted groups of children...the ones I assembled by going around the neighborhood...until someone decided they didn't want me included in the group. I was carried home, much like Hazel's maid carried me when I had wandered. 8: On the last bike ride I took there, a girl approached me and pulled hair out of my head at this spot. Six months earlier had stood waiting at this spot for my biological father to gather up his bicycle to ride with me, but my mother retrieved me instead and moved me right away. Jim had gone for about ten days at that point. I no longer had that place as an option for seeing him. 11: I played in my backyard with caterpillars by myself, and talked there with my biological father when he came around frequently. My girlfriend Tracy joined us sometimes. This was the place where my biological father spoke emphatically about being my father. It was hard to believe him because of how young he was. But he insisted that someday I would believe. I lived here only six months, but as you could see, those six months were very important. | |
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