Memories

One of my three earliest memories is of being on a train. Kennedy was killed in November 1963; we took the train to New York City the following month, and in January 1964 my my little sister was born.

I remember my mother crying when Kennedy was shot. For years, I held the memory of our house and that moment very clear in my mind, but once I actually spoke about it and described the event, the clarity was gone.

I remember my sister coming home from the hospital in a big bassinet and her accoutrements taking up the whole back seat of our car. I sat with my legs pulled up, scrunched in the corner near the window, wondering about this teeny tiny baby who later became my very best friend.

My first ride on a train was a bit scary ... the gaps between the cars were huge and I was upset over having lost a toy that turned up later left at home.

I am on a train now, many years later, headed for Lynchburg, Virginia, to discuss my family history with my mother and her cousin.

In the early 1980s I visited my grandmother in Franklin, Tennessee, and attended a Cousins Luncheon, as she called it. I was in my early 20s and the guests were much older, some of them in their 80s. I collected all of their documentation and information the best I could. Over the years, my ability to research has accelerated tremendously. No longer do I have to write letters to court houses, pay people to pull and copy records, and then wait several weeks for them to confirm that X married X in the small town of X. One small piece of information that I can now save to my desktop in a split second. I can reconstruct towns and neighborhoods late at night, in my pajamas, when all of the libraries are closed.

I am now considered my family's historian. I am proud of that role, even if I am overwhelmed by the amount of information I have and the disorganized manner in which I file it.

I don't have any children. It just happened that way but if I can leave behind my family's story, I will have done something significant with my life and something that honors all of those who came before me and those who are here with me now. We are a great story even if we are an ordinary one.

Ultimately, we are nothing more than a memory and a few lines in a historical document hidden away in a dusty basement or stored away on some forgotten file that can no longer be opened. I hope to preserve as many memories as I can for as long as possible.

Year Two Celebration

Seriously, not our best photo but in the spirit of honest documentation, here's to us ... still having a laugh after two years. That's a chocolate mousse desert with a party-sized candle on top. Happy 2nd anniversary.

Orlando

We left WDC/VA late Friday night and travelled south down I95 through North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, arriving in Florida on Saturday. We are in Orlando now and are leaving tomorrow morning to go look at our Westsail in Moore Haven. If this boat turns out not to be our Clementine, we have an appointment to see another boat this Wednesday in Fort Pierce (also a 28). The pic on the left is of our hotel room balcony, the one in the middle is us after a good steak dinner in the hip part of town, and the one on the right was taken along side Lake Eola.

Five-OMG!

It's been a busy week of birthday fun ... delicious dinners, lovely gifts, cocktail parties, and smooth sailing on the Potomac. Life is good. Back to blogging soon.

Before Facebook

The beginning ... before facebook, there was classmates and the first email Eric sent me (although I didn't see it until after we had started chatting on facebook). Makes me smile and forgive all of the snoring that is going on next to me.

From:	Eric (view profile)
To:	Leslie
Sent:	March 08, 2009 04:57:46 PM
Subject:	Hi, from Eric! Hi Leslie! Do you remember me? I saw your name on the classmates website and was reminded of some good times with you. (kissing in the stairwell?)

(Another) Friday Night at Jaleo

My very best friend in the 9th and 10th grade ... reunited with our families after a great big number of years through facebook.

Eric and Me (Urbanna)

Eric and I first met when we were 15 years old. After a few high school parties of the 1970s kind, and some kid-like kissing in a stairwell, he moved to New Jersey and we lost touch. Many years later, we reconnected through Facebook. Our first real date was a year ago on March 27. We went to a carnival on a Friday afternoon and within a few weeks were a couple. This year, to celebrate our one-year anniversary, we drove down to Urbanna, VA, to look at a Westsail. Urbanna is a great little boating community with mom and pop stores and city-like coffee shops. This is us in the Dragon Run Inn right before we headed out.

A Summer Picnic

... to introduce our two families.

Best Friends Forever

1965 Baltimore, MD. Me on the left and Susan on the right. We were best friends that year and then my family moved to Panama. Susan and I kept in touch through letters but lost track during the 1970s when high school parties and drama took over. I have been telling all of my friends that my facebook page wouldn't be complete until Susan and I were back in touch. She sent me a friend request a few days ago. There's nothing better than finding your first-grade BFF after so many years ... and nothing better than still thinking she's great.

Eric circa 1976

Me

I have an orange armoire, a purple chair, and I used to have a white couch. It was a shabby chic style with a slipcover, in theory a good idea until you try and stretch that thing back into place after washing it.

When I moved to Adams Morgan, it became a nuisance. There's so much city dust and activity going on and it's necessary to sweep and mop and dust every single day. Even then you can't stay on top of it.

My two cats had started to use the couch as a scratching post and I didn't have the power to stop them. One day, I'd had enough. There was a "give away" spot in the basement and I resolved to leave it there for whomever wanted it. I tipped the couch up and pushed it out my apartment door. It was heavy. There was a metal frame inside. I pushed it down the hall and got as far as the elevator when I realized I didn't have the physical capacity to get it inside. And I didn't want to push it back into my apartment. I stood there. What to do? Who to call? The elevator suddenly opened and a young guy stepped out. Hey, do you want a couch? I joked.

Yes, actually. We pushed the couch two doors down. The burden was gone. Sometimes things just fall into place.

I woke up in the middle of the night and finally cried for all of us.

The Skyline Roof Top

Out of focus, but then so were we. Starting left: Cathy, Kim, Leslie, and Mickey.

Circa 1976 - just for Eric O.

Starting left: Katherine, Leslie, Polly, and Andi

Facebook

I grew up an army brat and moved practically every year of my childhood and now thanks to facebook I'm back in touch with my sixth grade class above. This pic was taken in Santo Domingo. I remember every single one of these kids. I'm seated third from the left with the funny expression on my face.

L to R starting at the top: Roberto; Mario; Alberto (Iowa), Mike (Georgia); Jose; Jordi; Chuck; Julie (Kosovo); Valinda; Judith; Ingrid (Georgia); Jacqueline; Kathy; Isanec (NYC); Mary Lou our teacher (New Orleans); Wendy; Pam; Leslie (WDC-Arlington); Patricia; Linda; Ana; Catherine (Utah).

Notice the stats: 7 boys to 14 girls ... 1:2