Name something

[MurphOnMillerAve]

Tells us about something, a person, people, place, factor, event, etc. from your childhood that you remember with great value and satisfaction.

Line the good memories up in your mind, for a moment, and select one, for now, and share it with us.
Murph

[v8vega]

We lives in small town southern Oregon from age 8 to 13, actually a wide spot in the road. Our house was right in the edge of the forest. Us kids hiking around in the fores we saw things most likely no one else has ever seen possibly to this day as the area hasn't grown much. I have fond memories of there.
Logging and small sawmills were the main industry, small sawmills were like 7-11's Their burners never went out I don't think. Logging trucks were everywhere. It's all gone now.
We would watch the loggers some in the forest. There was no conservation then, If they ran over 50 small trees to get one big one out with the bulldozer, no concern.
Us boys played marbles in the schoolyard.

[webenda]

Name something: Moaning Maggie

The foghorn in Los Angeles Harbor had a low, two-toned sound that led locals to nickname it “Moaning Maggie.”
"BEEEEEEE-uuggnnnhhh."
I loved listening to it on foggy nights.
1942-1946, then we moved inland.

[webenda]

Name something" Cab Forwards at Los Angeles Harbor

1942-1946, then we moved inland.

The Cab Forwards I saw most were pulling reefer trains of bananas. The tight curves in the harbor area made the cab forwards look like they were falling apart as the rear engine swung out from under the boiler.

[HONDO74]

Wayne, you are a remarkable person.

1942-1946. 0 to 4 years of age. Can't say that I can remember anything in that time frame.

[webenda]

Name something: 0-8-0 switcher at Los Angeles Harbor Transfer Yard



I last saw this type of locomotive in 1948. It had blocked traffic on Carson St at Alameda St. So my dad parked the car and we walked around the corner to a restaurant and had breakfast with the train crew. As we were eating our eggs and toast a police officer came in and asked who the engineer for the train was. The engineer said, "I am." The engineer got chewed out and received a traffic ticket for blocking the flow of traffic for more than 15 minutes.

[MurphOnMillerAve]

For me, it wasn't so much the things around me, although plenty of them were very, very interesting and worth exploration, that I would name as something significant to me as a boy, as much as it was the factor of having so many friends to play with. As soon as one or two of us stepped outside our homes, or alighted from the school-buses that brought us home, being out of our houses seemed to signal the others to come out immediately to play. The ease of making those friends and the ease with which we enjoyed each other's company would be tops on my list of things I would name from childhood that felt especially good. I believe there is a residual effect, to this day.
Murph

[MurphOnMillerAve]

V8Vega, My childhood neighborhood had a forest exactly one block from my street. We - us kids - the boys - enjoyed that pretty good sized forest which stood surrounding our neighborhood along a bit more than half its perimeter. That meant every sq. ft. had to be explored, and we surely did do so. Some of the older trees had vines hanging from them (I have no idea why), so that meant we were obliged to grab hold of one to swing-out over the hillsides below where the trees stood, scream warrior-calls out loud, and then drop to the forest floor below. Nobody ever got hurt.
P.S. I never "played marbles," though several friends did, but I had several good looking ones, which were kept as treasures, in a bag, kept in my room. I think some of them were named "aggies" and "cats' eyes" ??

(P.P.S. Once again, I tried hard to post a few [one is only 68.6 KBs] photos to illustrate what I am saying, but this site won't let me.)

[webenda]

Name something: V-day, May 8, 1945.

We were still living in an apartment on Hellman St, Long Beach, California.
I had a view out of the living room window. I remember sticking my head out (no screen covering window.)
Cars were honking and this car with speakers came down the street advertising victory.
I asked my mom, "What is going on?" She replied, "The war is over, we won."
I see my window view is blocked by a tall tree today.

[healey36]

That must have been a helluva day, Wayne...can't begin to imagine.

[webenda]

Name something: Movable bridges.

From 1942 to 1946 my father worked in San Pedro while we lived in Long Beach. (I suspect they lived and worked in these places prior to 1942 but my memory does not go back prior to 1942.)
On days my mom kept the car, we would drive dad to work and pick him up.
The route included a car ferry and two movable bridges, a Bascule bridge and a Verticle lift bridge.
I loved it when we got a red light and bell at the bridges. That meant I got to watch them go up and down.

[webenda]

Name something: The Islander

The last part of the adventure in traveling to San Pedro from Long Beach was the channel crossing, 1942-1946.

I still have the sound of the ferry engine in my head. I think my truck engine idols faster than the ferry engine ran at its top speed.

[webenda]

Name something: Learning to talk, 1942-1943.

What is wrong with parents? Babies have a built-in language, Baby Talk. You would think parents would be required to learn it before they are allowed to conceive a baby. My first year was the most frustrating time of my life. I would pull myself to a standing position in the cage they kept me in and hang on to the edge ( I couldn't keep my balance at first. ) I would then clearly communicate what I wanted. My parents would hand me something else.

[rex desilets]

My happy memories include growing up outside Tupelo, MS, 1947-1954. In those innocent days, when almost everything was available for cheap at the local Army-Navy store (tenst, sleeping bags, back packs, etc.), we all camped out in the Summer, with our trusty BB guns. My Mother would catch me raiding the refrigerator in the morning...after chores...and all she asked was would I be home for dinner. Next to our house was a pasture, a creek and a field of sugar cane. We'd shuck off our clothes put on breech-cloths and play Indian. Smoke grapevine stogies and rabbit tobacco cigarettes.
On our Fed reservation (headquarters of the Natchez Trace Parkway....NPS took over one of Eleanor Roosevelts failed schemes) the Parkway archaeologist had his lab in one of the old CCC buildings. We could drop in and he'd show us and explain his collection of arrowheads, skulls, and whatnot. We kids, who grew up respectful, were always treated with kindness.
Oh..it was hot in the Summer. Shorts & bare feet. Squeezing my feet into my Sunday shoes (no new shoes until Fall) was agony.
Funny how all this is so clear and I can't remember where I left my glasses.

[MurphOnMillerAve]

That was a marvelous read , Rex. Please. Do tell us more, and the more details the better.

( For me, Sunday's shoes eventually became our school shoes; then, play shoes. I can clearly see myself shoving pieces of cardboard inside the play-shoes when holes had worn into the soles.)

Wonderful memories. Every ounce, moment, and inch of them.