This has been a week of memories for me – some happy and some sad – but all took me back to a time when I was younger and was trying to get myself going in the world.
At the beginning of the week I enjoyed a visit from a cousin I had not seen since 1959. Just how she got back into my corner of the world is a long story, but she brought me news of people I hadn’t heard about in years.
She was 9 years old when I last saw her but she said she remembered me because she always thought I had a Southern drawl to my voice. See, she’s from Northern Minnesota and up there the speech is clipped and quick and one has to listen carefully or something can be missed.
Anyhow, we spent several hours talking about who was gone from the scene and who was still miraculously living in their nineties.
The sadness rose in me as I learned of the fate of Elmwood (which had been hit by a tornado), a place where I spent many, many happy hours as a child visiting my Uncle Jerry and Aunt Mary Jarman.
I was especially hurt to hear of the damage to the Palace Theater. That’s the place where I saw my first movie without my parents – my friends and I simply could walk up there – and to me it was a big step. I was seven and staying with my aunt and uncle and we (the kids in that hood) went to see “Song of the Islands.”
That theater was also the scene of my first car date and I am sure that holds true for a great many of us who lived within driving distance of Elmwood. It started at 7:15 and ended promptly at 9:10 so we could all be home by 10 p.m., the accepted “be home” time back then.
