Places I Have Lived

I submitted this to The Columbian, our local newspaper. They print stories from people who want to share something about themselves. I knew I was passing this 'milestone', so thought it would be fun to write something up for the paper. I think this is the one I first submitted, but the editor wanted it much shorter, so I had to cut this down to 700 words or so. With some additional corrections and a few changes, this is the longer version. This was published in the fall of 2009.

Sometime in the next month or so I will have passed a milestone in my life. The longest I have ever lived in one spot has been 11 years and 5 months, give or take. That was in Portland when I was newly married. Then we moved. And moved a few more times, and then ended up in Vancouver where we rented a house for about 18 months. Then we moved to our current abode and we’ve been here 11 years last April. So I am creeping up to my all time staying put record, and I feel that is a pretty momentous occasion, because, believe me I’ve moved a lot.

In March of 1946 I was born in Eugene, Oregon. My parents had been in that area for most of their lives but after I came on the scene, that changed quickly. By December we were in North Bend, on the Oregon coast. Then my dad opened up the Western Auto store in Newport and from early 1948 to mid 1951 we lived in four different houses in Newport. My dad sold that business and we spent the summer in Canyonville before moving to Albany ( 2 houses), Corvallis, and then to Grants Pass, Ore. My mother and father bought a small diner on the highway south of Grants Pass, and I went to Redwood School. I remember that place because we lived in the back of the building and we also lived next door to my dad’s sister and her family. I was the hit of the party because we had a big freezer filled with ice cream goodies that my cousin’s were treated to on a regular basis. My dad was not happy, but he had a hard time saying no. I also remember that there was a terrible traffic accident one night right near the cafe, and my mom and dad got up and opened the doors for the police and whoever wanted or needed some coffee. I was pretty young but I remember the urgency and the hushed tones my parents used. We moved into town and had a home in Grants Pass and I remember walking to school. My dad got us a dog and the dog would follow me to school. Or maybe we lived there first and then had the cafe. Part of the problem with all of this moving around at such a young age, is that the exact time line is blurred, and when this became important for me to figure this all out, they were both gone. So, Dad stayed in Grants Pass for a little while longer and he was in a trailer park near the river and Mom was in an apartment in Salem and she worked for Blue Lake Cannery as a secretary. So technically I lived in both places at one time or another. I remember Grants Pass really well because that’s when I got sick and my dad took me to the doctor’s office after he got off of work. I lost my appendix in Grants Pass, Oregon. Not the same ring to it as leaving your heart in San Francisco, but what are you gonna do? I remember Salem (oh and 2 different apartments there, by the way) as we lived on Edgewater street and that’s when we had a TV and I thought Julius LaRosa and Liberace were the most fascinating of men. I was in second grade. And then we moved. Mom was lured to Henderson, Nevada by her brothers and so off we went. This was in 1953. I have absolutely no idea how we got there. I have no memory of driving or flying or anything. We were here and then in my memory we were there. I'm thinking we probably flew down there, but you'd think that would have made a bigger impression on me. I finished up second grade in Henderson in an area called Carver Park. The area was dusty and sandy and butted up against a wide swath of desert and we kids would go and hunt for lizards. Mom was so thrilled. It was a horrible old school and I had the dubious fortune to have our teacher also be the principal. It was a small school and I likened it later to a POW camp. There was a paddle hanging on the wall and quite often some offending child would be hauled in and smacked with the paddle. Most of the time at the school, I was terrified. We had timed math tests for the first time in my life, and I’m certain this is the reason my math skills are lacking. Thankfully my mother also thought our future did not lie in this part of the world,( I think it was the two-day dust storm that turned the tide there), so I was stashed in the backseat with my cousins as her brother and his wife were abandoning ship too. My mother decided to head for greener pastures in California and I went up to northern California to meet up with my dad. I remember that really well because of the old highway system and having to cross the mountains at night on the Oregon border and it was really, really foggy. It was so bad he had me get out of the car so I could tell him where the center line was. He took me back to Grants Pass, where he was living in a different mobil home park and I stayed with him until my mom got settled. My dad drove me down to Santa Paula, because I do remember a very hot car ride with him. No A/C of course, so the windows are rolled down in the car and the hot air pouring in, but not helping all that much. He got me down there in time to start third grade.

My mother had gotten a job with Union Oil Company and we lived in a small converted garage apartment in back of a house that had a huge avocado tree in their back yard. I still remember all the fallen avocados all over the ground. What a mess. Then, the next summer, my mother got a proper small apartment on Ojai Road and moved in. After my summer with Dad, she was already in the new place. For me,the selling point to that place was that there was a pretty good sized wooded hill behind us and I and my little friends would traipse all over that hill, which was pretty much covered in poison oak. I did pretty good dodging it, but usually had some itchy spot somewhere during the time we lived there. In the meantime Dad had moved to Idleyld Park, up the Umpqua River out of Roseburg, Ore. So I spent summers with him. And then he re-married and moved into Roseburg. My mother, after three years in Santa Paula moved to a nicer place in Ventura, some 10 miles away. During the 3 years we lived there my mom was in four different apartments. Two years were spent in one apartment complex that had a swimming pool. That was very nice. Are you keeping up! When I started fourth grade, my mother began the fight for her life, as she was diagnosed with breast cancer. For a few years I would suddenly find myself being shipped back to Oregon, where I would live with my dad and step-mom or sometimes with my mom’s sister. Fourth, fifth and sixth grades were pretty confusing, believe me. I can hardly put those years into any kind of order. A memory finally surfaced, which I will add some time after I first wrote this. I did go to another school in Santa Paula. I went to Isbell Middle School for the 6th grade. Or maybe for part of the 6th grade. I remember walking to my mom's work place after school, and I remember my class room and we felt a small earthquake when I was in that school room. Interesting that those memories finally surfaced.

My mother and I managed to get me all the way through seventh grade and eighth grade without changing schools. I usually spent the school years in Ventura and then summers in Roseburg. But that doesn’t mean I was in the same house. Oh no. My adult caretakers there also moved around. Flint Street, Lookingglass Road, Emerald Drive, and Stirling Drive, were some of the places I hung out during those years. The most memorable school years that meant the most to me were the almost three years at Anacapa Jr. High. It was a rich school district and I was going to one of the newest and best schools. It was the cadillac of junior high’s as we called them then. Now it’s middle school, I guess. Anyway, I got almost all the way through ninth grade, but my mother was very ill and I had to leave school a few weeks early. I ended up in Roseburg with but two weeks left in the school year. My aunt, being the rule follower that she is, enrolled me as a freshman at the high school. Now I ask you, who does that? My aunt, that’s who. So, circumstances as they were and, sadly, with the death of my mother, I finished up my high school years in Roseburg (and believe me after Anacapa, Roseburg High School left much to be desired, not that I didn’t love it later, mind you..but a big, big difference) and then went on to Ashland for one year of college, then moved to Portland to attend business school since my aunt and uncle had moved there for his job. I had my one year of schooling there to learn how to be a key punch operator, and then off to Honolulu, Hawaii where I spent 3 years of glorious Hawaiian bliss. I moved in with my dad and stepmom who had moved over for an Hawaiian adventure. We shared a small house on Pacific Heights for over a year before they moved back to Oregon. I found a little studio apartment across the street from where I worked and then ended up moving to another place because the rent went up a whopping $15 a month or some silly thing like that.

Then back to reality, back to Portland. I met my husband when I was living with my aunt, moved to his house and after two years moved to the house where we stayed for over eleven years and it was at that point that I thought...wow, I’ve never lived anywhere that long before. I had actually reached that years before, but was too busy to notice, I guess. We moved to Manzanita, Oregon and then a few years later back to Portland., We were in three different houses in Portland before we went over to Vancouver to a house we rented and then to our present home, eleven years ago last April. And THAT’s as close as I can come to all the places that I have lived. Whew.

Will we move again? Maybe. Who knows? I can honestly say that Vancouver, Washington has been one of the best places I have ever lived. Well, maybe not better than Honolulu, but I like Vancouver. It’s a nice town. And so far it holds the current record for me living in one spot. That’s pretty impressive. And you think you got confused reading this? Hey, I had to live it!! By now, I’m lucky to even know what town I live in. I’m pretty sure it’s Vancouver, Washington. Home for eleven years, and almost five months and going strong. Feels good to be home.