 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
1938 - 1943 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
I was born on a snowy night in 1938. It was so snowy that the doctor couldn't make it to our house to deliver me. My dad had seen my brothers delivered, so he assisted my mother in bringing me into the world. I was tiny, weighing only 4 lbs. 4 ozs. My dad named me Patricia, a name that he had been waiting for ten years to pin on a daughter. My relatives and neighbors called me Patsy. I didn't like that nor did I like Patricia, which is what I was called at school. Later I was called Pat and that was okay with me. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The house I was born in was a little house that my dad had built on the back of the lot. In those days, if you didn't have much money, that was one way you could get a house of your own. After you'd saved more money, you were ready to build the big house on the front of the lot. |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
I was around two years old when my dad built the big house. It was only a three-bedroom bungalow, but it seemed big to us. Dad did all the work himself and he built a really nice house. I lived there with my parents, brothers and sisters for about twelve years. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
My love of ice cream began at a very early age. One taste and I was hooked. My mom had to buy another ice cream cone for herself. Our car was typical for that time period, big and angular. But it got us to where we wanted to go, most of the time. |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
When I was two or three years old, I had a friend who lived across the street. Her name was Sharon. She moved while we were still very young, but when we got to high school, I was happily surprised to find my friend attending the same school. It was nice to renew old acquaintances. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Click here to go to next page |
|
|
|
|
|
Click here to go to home page |
|
|
|
|