Dad's First Memories

My earliest memory is from when we lived in Grangeville, Idaho. I was about three years old. My father worked in a grocery store (to augment his teacher's salary) and I remember deciding to go visit him. I left home alone and walked the few blocks to where he worked (without telling my mother that I was going, which panicked her as I later discovered). There was a big old-fashioned wooden barrel in the front of the store and it was full of candy corn. I was truly impressed. Especially when my dad allowed me to have a few kernels.

Another Grangeville memory is of being sick -- probably just a bad cold or the flu. I was lying on a sofa in our living room. It had long wooden legs so there was a large visible space under the seat. Kind of like the old Danish modern couch that Grandma Lauritzen had in her living room. Anyway, I was sort of asleep and rolled over with my arm hanging down. I became convinced that a bear grabbed my arm. For years afterward, I was unable to let my arm hang over the side of the bed.

And finally, again in Grangeville, we had a very close neighbor, Mr. J. T. Lingo, I believe, who was also our landlord. This very kindly old gentleman used to smoke whitefish in his fireplace. I remember several times getting a sample from him of that whitefish and thinking it was very good. This from someone who now cares nothing for most fish.

I have often thought that it is very strange what memories survive from our childhood. I'm grateful for them.

Grandpa L.