Oh, if the walls of our house could talk. A cliché I know, but really. What if they could? What could they reveal?
Triggering Childhood Memories
One of the writer’s notebook activities I used in the past with students to help generate memories is to draw the layout of a childhood home. In June 2020, I wrote about a fragment of time at our home in Grand Junction, Colorado. The house in Grand Junction on Belford Avenue is the first house I can really remember from childhood. My mom loved that house for the simple fact that it was in Colorado, the place where she most loved to be.
Move to Grand Junction House
My dad moved the family to the Grand Junction house before he left to go to Vietnam in 1967. (Dad’s records show he was in Vietnam from 6 October 1967 to 5 October 1968.) We lived in the house on Belford Avenue during his tour of duty. The basic house plan is as follows (to the best of my memory – and please forgive my lack of “drawing” skills – it is not to scale by any means):
Now for a tour of the house.
Facing the gray and white-trimmed house, there is a sidewalk leading to the front steps. Walking up the front concrete steps there is a small front porch although I remember it being bigger (or maybe because I was little it seemed big). There is a wrought iron railing around the sides of the front porch. Opening the screen door, the front door opens to the living room. The walls are white and there is an arched doorway straight ahead that leads to the small hallway. There are two windows in the living room – one on the wall with the front door and one on the other outside wall to the right. I think the floor had carpet.
Continuing Through the House
Turning left at the archway from the living room is the small hallway that leads to a bathroom on the right, the master bedroom on the left, and straight ahead is the doorway to what was my room that I shared with my sister.
Walking through the archway, the kitchen is right across from the living room. I believe the cabinets were white then and on the left wall was a faux brick (plastic?) where a table sat. These pictures were taken at the table in the kitchen. Notice the phone on the wall behind us on the left.
The kitchen is a small and narrow galley style kitchen. Walking through the kitchen, and turning left, the back door is there leading to the carport and back yard. I vividly remember the day Daddy walked through that back door, coming home to us from Vietnam. I wrote about that in another post.
The Back Yard
The backyard has a shed and is accessible from the alley. Part of the backyard is grass and part has a concrete path to pull in a car. This picture here was taken in the backyard. Mom is looking out through a kitchen window.
The Dreaded Basement Stairs
There is a little space/stoop area between the back door and the stairs to the basement. The stairs to the basement are directly across from the back door. At the bottom of the stairs and to the right there is a bedroom. Across from that bedroom is the room where the coal furnace and coal chute was located. Turning left at the bottom of the stairs leads to a large open room.
The basement stairs mortified me. I don’t know if they were just too narrow, or I was clumsy, or whether or not there was a handrail. All I remember is that I don’t know how many times I fell down those stairs, tripping and ending up at the bottom. Although, it could have been my imagination or maybe I just did it once and then lived in fear the rest of the time? I do remember having a dream that I jumped from the top step and just flew like a bird.
Other Memories
Two of my sisters were still living at home. The one closest in age to me shared a bedroom with me upstairs. The older one had a room in the basement. One of my sisters shared with me that there was a water cooler in one of the windows on the main level. She also shared that we used to dry our hair over the coal furnace vent in the winter time. Coal was delivered to the house, and someone had to fill the furnace downstairs with coal to keep it running. I believe the oldest sister living at home then may have had the responsibility at that time. While I may not have all of the details exactly right, they are close enough for my purpose.
Christmas 1967
These pictures were taken in the living room during Christmas 1967. This is a picture of Christmas dinner that year. I think before my brother left for Vietnam. The dining room table might have been in the living room and I see the china closet behind it. This year I received a Barbie doll, a baby doll, a stroller for the baby doll, and a metal kitchen set. The kitchen set was eventually put down in the basement in our play area. Those curtains! I think they were with us well into my high school days!
One of my sisters now has the china closet and the dining room table. I had the table for many years. There are indentations in the top of the table from Dad writing numbers from when he would do his “ciphering”, as he called it. The things we hold on to for memories.
The metal kitchen set appears in this picture taken in the basement. I also see the red camel saddle. It was a constant piece in all of the houses while I was growing up. My sister recently had it recovered, and it is now in my home.
The World at this Time
While I was oblivious to the state of our country at this time, I still sensed the tension in the house and the worry mom carried for my dad, my brother, and my then brother-in-law. All three were in Vietnam at some point during the same time.
The house contained a wealth of sadness and worry during a tumultuous time in our country and a terrifying time for many families (including ours) who had loved ones serving in Vietnam. I may have only been five-six years old, but I could still feel the sadness and worry. Some joy is contained in those walls, though. Especially the day Dad came home having survived his tour of duty. My brother and brother-in-law all survived as well. For that I am forever grateful.
That is the first house I remember living in and where my memories begin. The memories from this period are pretty vague. Only a few stand out and I suppose that is to be expected because of my age at the time.
The House Now
I recently looked up the house online. You can find almost anything nowadays. I was pretty accurate with the floor plan that I drew from memory. It was interesting to look through the pictures from a past real estate listing. The exterior is brown now but was gray when we lived there. The rooms pretty much look the same except for the basement which now has a bathroom and the master bedroom. The coal furnace and chute appear to be gone as it states it is heated via natural gas now and the room looks to be a workroom of some kind.
The Next Move and House
When Dad returned from Vietnam, he accepted a position teaching ROTC at State College of Arkansas (now UCA) that he held until his retirement in 1970. Thus, we packed up our house and moved to Conway, Arkansas during October of my first grade year.
My parents kept ownership of the Grand Junction house and rented it. I never asked why or what prompted them to do that. Recently, I looked up the deed to the property and both of their names were on record. I was curious because during that time women rarely had ownership of anything. I wonder if because Dad was an army man about to be sent to Vietnam, that it was better to have her name on it. That would be a reasonable guess. We spent four years in Conway and then returned to the Grand Junction house. I have more vivid memories from the second time we lived there to be shared later.
A Side Note
Since this is being published on October 31, I thought about Halloween and the lack of memories from childhood centered around that day. I cannot even recall one time dressing up or trick-or-treating, even when we lived in Grand Junction. I don’t have any pictures or remember having seen any. Maybe because for a few years during childhood, we lived in rural areas and just didn’t do it. Or maybe it just wasn’t a big deal in our family or during my childhood. I don’t know and haven’t asked any of my siblings. Yet, I do remember a few Halloween carnivals at school during junior high and that my first kiss was at one of these carnivals when I was in 7th grade. Oh, well. I have plenty of memories from many other times and holidays. I just thought it was interesting. How about you? What are your Halloween memories?
Happy Halloween!
Photo by David Menidrey on Unsplash
That’s odd about your lack of Halloween memories cause I have many memories of that holiday. My mom made me some really cool costumes over the years and we always carved a pumpkin for the porch. But I don’t recall her sharing stories about her Halloweens as a kid. Maybe it was a forgotten holiday because her birthday was the day prior. And now I have no one left to ask.