N.Z. time
Sunday, 24th July, 2005
10:03 a.m.
My early childhood memories are many and mixed. I was told my Mom and Dad was divorced soon after our arrival in California. I didn’t meet him again until I was 19 years old, but that’s getting ahead of my story.
By the time I turned 5, the rest of my Aunts along with my Grandmother and my Great Grandmother had all arrived in Los Angeles, so for a short time I wound living with 5 women. I do have brief flash memories that can’t be recorded in an open format like this blog page, but let me say those memories very strongly shaped my addictions later on in life.
During this time with the ladies, we were living in a big white house just two blocks up from Echo Park in Los Angeles. Being only 5 years old I was not allowed to cross the busy main boulevard to reach the park. But there was one Sunday morning when everyone was getting off to such a slow start; I decided to take some stale bread from the kitchen and sneak away and feed the ducks that were always quacking around the Echo Park lake. I do remember it being great fun watching the ducks squabbling over the bits of bread, but then I heard some fire engine sirens come screaming down the boulevard, big red trucks tearing around the corner and roaring right up my street. Well ducks were fun, but fire trucks and sirens were a whole new experience for me, so instantly forgetting the ducks, off I went, running up the hill, chasing after this wonderful new excitement. As I rounded the corner to my street I saw all the fire trucks parked right in front of my big white house. As I got closer I saw that all the floor to ceiling windows across the front of the house were blown out from the bottom and sticking out like half opened overhead garage doors, and laying on its back, right there on our front lawn, was our living room sofa. Broken glass was everywhere, smoke was pouring out of the back of the house, firemen were running all around with hoses, axes and ladders, and right there in the middle of it all were my mom, all my aunties, my Grandmother and my great Grandmother, all in their nighties and pyjamas. I stood there dumbfounded, I couldn’t believe it, the ladies had blown up my house.
This is only the beginning of a 70 year story, to be continued….
I’ll be back …… (Maybe)
B Mc G
