My parents were married in 1935. Times were hard then and my mother was pregnant with me. Shortly after I was born, my father got very sick and my mother had to go to work. She worked for an organization called the O.P.A. sewing and earning something like $3 to $5 a week. My dad took care of me during that time. They had to move several times trying to find places to live that they could afford. My mom told me about some of the terrible places they had to live in.
When my dad recovered and was finally able to go to work he found a job as a truck driver and things began to improve somewhat. This was when my parents decided to build their own house. They saved what money they could and finally found a lot they could afford to buy.
In November 1941 they started building the garage. They intended to live in it as they worked on their house. It had a small bedroom, small bathroom and a combination living room and kitchen. By December 7, 1941 it had shiplap and tar paper on the outside and newspapers tacked to the studs for walls on the inside. Building materials were hard to come by after the war started but as my dad was able to find things, the inside of our place became more livable. We had a coal and wood cook stove that would heat the house and where my mom would fix our meals. I can still remember Saturday nights having my bath in a large metal tub filled with hot water sitting in front of that stove.
Shortly after the war was over, my dad decided to move our �garage� closer to the front of the lot and just add on to it to make our new house. He called a fellow that told him he could move the garage with no problem, but he would need my dad�s help. The mover came out with a flat bed truck that had two large logs on the bed of the truck and a winch on the back of the truck. I was fascinated just watching how this move was done. The mover turned out to be a 77 year old man that seemed to be as strong as a horse! Our garage had been on a temporary foundation so it would be relatively easy to move. The mover attached the winch to the garage and he and my dad placed the logs under the garage at certain intervals. As the mover started rotating the winch by hand the garage would move forward. Then he would stop the winch and he and my dad would take one of the logs from the farthest end of the building and move it up to the front. This went on until the garage was where my dad wanted it. This was done completely by hand by my dad and the mover.
What had started out as our garage eventually turned into two bedrooms a bathroom and hallway. A living room, dining room, kitchen and utility room were added. By 1949 or 1950, the house was finished and my dad had built a new garage on the back of the lot. It turned out to be a cute and comfortable house. I lived there until I was 19 and got married and moved. My parents lived there until 1969. The house is still there and being lived in. When I get the chance, I drive by it and remember the good times I had when I lived there.
