Mom was born on December 15, 1948 to my grandparents. Well, duh! Of course her parents were my grandparents. Okay, continuing on.
Not only did she live in Morgan Place with her brother, Bob, her sister, Missy, and my grandparents, Norma and Dale, her cousins and her grandma all lived on the same street.
Mom told me a lot of stories. I listened to them over and over again. In my grief strickened mind, some of what she has told has gone away. It’ll show back up later.
Someone didn’t like their parents cooking so they would go beg their grandma to feed them. I don’t remember if it was her or her cousins or both.
When she was 7, she was hit by a school bus. School should not have been happening that day because of icy conditions. However, Randolph Township decided to still have school. Her bus driver did not realize she had fallen and hit her with the front tire. Rather then wait for medics to come, he decided that was going take her over to cousins’ house.
She ended up in traction for 6 or so weeks. Bob couldn’t visit her because he had the chicken pox. One of her teachers came and tutored her so that she would not fail and be in the same grade as her brother.
When she was in 8th grade, her Girl Scout troop took a trip to Washington, D.C. They got to see JFK’s pony or something like that when they visited the White House. They also had to pay to use the public restrooms.
Her dad owned Morgan something or another. (I wanted to say it was called Morgan Place but that doesn’t seem right.) They used to make moron burgers the size of a pie plate and homemade ice cream. After a year of owning it, he sold it or something like that.
In the meantime, she went off to college down in Buchannon, West Virginia. Even though she went for only 2 years to West Virginia Wesleyan, she would talk about it ALL the time.
While at college, she met my father. When asked how they met, she didn’t remember just that they met.
At some point, she worked at Burgin’s Pizza. She used to get Puffcorn, her favorite snacky food, and pop and go play cards with her grandma who would cheat. At least I think that is what she told me.
In 1971, she married my father in Pennsylvania. After their marriage, she moved to Eastern PA.
I’m going to leave off there for right now.
Stay kind!
Believe in the Magic Traci Diary 