Today is No D Day when those of us who normally blog about the D-word take time to open windows into other parts of our lives. Sue from New York, Sue from Pennsylvania, and I have each written posts with memories and photos of our childhoods. Thanks to George of Ninjabetic for organizing this day, and click here to read other No D Day Posts.
I was born in Greenville, South Carolina. I was the youngest of three children and my mother always said that I raised myself. Some of that was the result of benign neglect, but mostly it was personality-driven. I always wanted to do things myself and didn’t want anyone helping me or watching over me. For better or worse, I don’t think that I’ve changed very much.
I grew up in the South where women and little girls wore hats and gloves to church. My father wore a hat to and from work every day along with his suit and tie. Little girls wore dresses to school and on cold days added a pair of slacks to keep legs warm. I went to an Episcopal day school and remember bobby-pinning a lacy chapel cap to my head every day for worship services. Boys seem to escape most of the hat requirements, but the plaid and striped jackets that my brother wore in many photos seem a worse punishment than hats.
With one set of grandparents in Washington State and another in a suburb of New York City, we were not strangers to airports and train stations. I don’t remember the small plaid suitcases, but I do remember the brown tie shoes. The brown tie shoes that turned into black and white saddle shoes as I got older. The saddle shoes that I was mortified to wear because the popular girls at school were wearing Bass Weejuns penny loafers and later on loafers with tassels. I think that I got a few years of loafers before going to girl’s boarding school in 9th grade and returning to uniforms and brown tie shoes.
*We spent a couple of weeks every summer at Pawley’s Island, SC. I have wonderful memories of hot days in the sun and homemade biscuits, fried shrimp, and hush puppies. I can still smell the Coppertone oil that my sister and I used to enhance her tan and unfortunately my sunburn. My brother got daily entertainment by pretending he was a shark and attacking me in the ocean. As much as I love the ocean, I still wonder what creatures are lurking in the shadows.
Lots of memories from long ago.