Posted: July 5, 2008 in Uncategorized

I can only assume I have a normal beginning in the way most people enter into the world.  First learning to walk and crawl and discover all the closest thing to us.  Of course, I discovered the love of my mother, and as most mothers.  She loved her children unconditionally, even when they gave her many things to stress about.

We were dirt poor family, where both parents had to do all they could to enable us to barely survive.  At least these are the stories passed down through the generations of our family.  My earliest memories were of a big yellow brick house, which stood in the middle of a junkyard.  My mother explained that when we actually lived there, that the junkyard didn’t exist then.  At that time she had a large garden, were the piles of old junk cars were when I first saw it.  This was the house, where our family lived when I was first born.  Therefore I have no actual memories of having lived in that house.

The house I remember living in was on first and Sheridan in Denver, Colorado.  It was a beautiful red brick home with four bedrooms and a full basement.  At that time it was a prosperous thing for a black family to even have a home of their own.  My mother and father worked very hard to try to keep a roof over their children’s heads.  It’s funny how when you’re still young.  You have no idea how hard your parents work to feed clothe and house you.  Little children have no idea of the hardships their parents are going through just to keep their heads above water.  What’s worse, many of them don’t even appreciate the gift of life that has been given them.

Of the incidents I remember that happened that the child while living in the red brick house.  I can only remember 3 of them.  I remember, we all went to a large park one day, and I was playing with two young boys, who lived close by in the neighborhood.  They invited me over to their home to play with trucks and cars in their backyard.  Being very young, I thought nothing of running off with them since their house was right on the edge of the park.  We started playing and having a great time with the cars and trucks and building a town in their sandbox.  Meanwhile, my family is frantically searching the park and calling the police and frantically looking for me.  I remember I was intently playing with a big toy dump truck and looked up to see two large policemen staring down at me.  They took me to my family, and of course all was well.  I remember when ever we passed a large park.  I would say is that the park where you lost me at.  So my father nicknamed the part where I was actually lost and lost me park.  We would always get a big laugh out of it, whatever we would pass that park.

The second incident, I can remember involved me and my two sisters, Shonna and Sharolynn.  I remember it was hard times for everyone back then and many parents would leave young children home alone, which is definitely not the allowed in this new age.  Anyway, I remember my parents would lock us in the basement to prevent us from escaping and destroying the upstairs while they were at work.  This of course was during the summertime when there was no school.  One day my sister Shonna got bored of being locked in the basement and took me and my other sister on a little adventure.  She managed to pry open one of the basement windows, then got a ladder and helped me and my sister Sharolynn to climb out.  They put me in my little red wagon, and we went to a drugstore which was about five blocks away.  It was one of those old drug stores that had a soda fountain.  My sister had a dollar, and we all shared a knee-high grape soda.  Before we left my sister managed to steal several candy bars, which they hid on me and the little red wagon, and we proceeded home.  We all got snuck back into the basement and all was well.  We had completed the adventure undetected by our parents or anyone else until later that night.  I start whining because they weren’t sharing any of the candy with me.  My mother heard me fussing with them and wanted to know what the problem was.  Of course I told her I was mad because they weren’t sharing any candy with me.  Of course that started a whole investigation on, where did we get any candy.  Being young and not knowing how to lie.  I told the whole story about our adventure to the drugstore.  My mom got very angry and made us all return with the remaining candy to the drugstore and apologize to store owner.  This was my first memory about unknowingly being involved in a crime.  My sisters never really played with me very much anymore after that incident.  It was a major turning point in my life as I have been a loner, most of the time since then.  It seems I’ve always felt alone.  Even when I’m with a crowd of friends.  I sometimes feel as though I don’t really fit in.

It wasn’t long after that that school started again in both my sisters had to return to school.  During that time my mother kept me with her most of the time.  Sometimes she would leave me with the neighborhood babysitter when she was working part-time jobs.  The third answer than I remember involved her leaving me in the car.  She put me in the car and walked down the street to pay the babysitter before leaving with me to go shopping.  Of course being five years old.  The first thing I did was job behind the steering wheel to pretend to be driving.  I managed to dislodge the emergency brake, and the car slowly backed out of the driveway and started to roll down the hill toward the babysitter’s house.  Luckily, back then my mother was still quick on her feet and she managed to chase down the car and bring it to a stop.  Just feet before crashing into a house at the bottom of the hill.  My parents never spanked us very much, but this was one incident where I got my little butt spanked.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s