My own real memories start in Kansas City. (The previous entry is stuff I was told.) We lived in a garden apartment in a lovely little complex. My sister and I had to share a room which was very annoying.
Kansas City was great for grandparents. My Mom's parents lived in Oklahoma City and my Dad's folks lived in Chafee, MO. This was long before interstate highways but each was about an 8 hour drive away. Way closer than ever before and we never lived that close again. We'd spend Thanksgiving with one and Christmas with the other and trade off every year. Plus Summers and other odd times. And they came to visit us. I was very lucky to have 3 fabulous grandparents and even lucky to have 1 not fabulous but kind of interesting grandparent. They deserve, and will get, their own entry. Soon.
I don't remember how long we lived that apartment but I think it was not long. And then we got a house and I got my own room (thankyoujesus) and we got a TV. I mean it was glory time. Across the street was a white house with a family who had two daughters (and other kids, too - they were Catholic) - one my age and one my sister's age and we were tight. We called them the Whitehouses (I'm pretty sure that was not their name). The daughter my age was Jenny Whitehouse. We were back and forth in each other's houses constantly.
One time, Mrs. Whitehouse had another baby. And she breast fed the baby. I was like 4 or 5 and absolutely fascinated. I went home and found a baby doll and proceeded to nurse. My mother had a fit. She really lost it. She said that I needed to stop immediately and never do that again and that it was a barbarian practise. But Mrs. Whitehouse does it! Well, she has a lot of babies and maybe they can't afford to buy milk. Funny now to think about it. But, really, after Mrs. Whitehouse, I never saw or heard of another mother breast feeding a baby until I was well out of college.
TV in the early days was interesting. In Kansas City, we had 2 channels, I think - maybe 3. There wasn't programming 24/7. Only about 8 hours a day. The rest of the time all you got was a test pattern. Some programs were 15 minutes long. The TV was in a large (like 3"x4"x5" wooden chest) and the set, itself, was tiny - like maybe 24" in diameter. Black and white only.
I also remember snow in Kansas City. A couple of times it snowed when Daddy was home and he took us to this gynormous hill with a Flexible Flyer sled. It was amazing and wonderful. My sister didn't like being cold and wet so mainly it was just me and Daddy flying down the hill. It was wonderful.
One memory I did find in an earlier journal was the Popsicle Incident.
The other major event that happened while we lived in Kansas City was my brother. I remember discussions with my Mom about her having a new baby. If it was a girl her name would be Patricia. I already had a sister and did not want another one. And then one day she left and only Daddy was there with us. I also remember going with him to see her. We were not allowed in the hospital, so we stood in the parking lot and she stood in her window about 5 or 6 floors up and waved at us.
And then they brought him home. It was a bright sunny day (in August) and they laid him out in the center of a gold satin blanket in the middle of the living room floor. He had on brown shorts and a yellow shirt and was all squiggly and squirmy and certainly not worth all the attention he was getting. I suggested that we didn't need him and they should just take him back. I was 4 and annoyed.
He was named after my father William Darnell Schubert, Jr. And my father very sternly informed us that we were NEVER to call him Billy or Willy or Will.
This is him a bit later... That's my maternal grandmother's arm and the Whitehouses' house in the background.
To Be Continued