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The 70s

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  Ah...the decade of the 70s. With wide-legged pants, polyester wide collared shirts, and platform shoes, we were certainly the toast of the disco circuit. The 70s were a transitional decade. I graduated from high school, started college, and bought my first car. I also lost two men I loved within a month of one another to tragic events. That same year, my father left his wife, drove back to Texas, and convinced my mother that he'd made a mistake by leaving her 10 years prior, and then swept her away to the San Francisco bay area, leaving me alone in Texas with few resources. He left her again two weeks later. The end of 1976 I married, and by 1979 had two children and had moved three times to three different states, lost a baby, and developed melanoma. Disco music and polyester weren't the worst of the 70s. There were good memories too. Concerts: the Beach Boys, Gordon Lightfoot, the Rolling Stones, the Willie Nelson Picnic, Chicago, Black Sabbath, Eric Clapton, BB King, Kansa

Your Cup

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A couple of years ago, one of my friends invited me to attend a church service where she would be speaking . Although I'm not a member of a church, when I'm invited I'll usually go. I've found that regardless of the denomination, there's a message and if I listen, I'll often find that message is for me. The service wasn't until 11 and so I was blissfully enjoying the morning when I noticed that I'd missed a call from a friend. 7am on a Sunday is early and so I worried that something was wrong--I called her back without listening to the message. She's sad, she's angry, but for the most part she's lonely so I listened. I tried to give her positive affirmation, I tried to be calming and finally, tried to give her another way to look at things. I told her that I loved her. By the end of the call, I was spent.   Walt asked who I'd been talking to--I told him and then replied that I don't think I helped her at all. And that I was drained. H

1960

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On January 8, 1960 I was 6 years and 2 months old. My parents were married, living in Fremont, California and I was in the second semester of the second grade at Chadborne Elementry School.  We belonged to a country club. I had two brothers: Gary (3) and Donnie (1). My dog's name was Horse and I had two dolls that I loved: MaryAnne and Sharon. I had flaming red curly hair, bright blue eyes, and made up songs to sing to Micky Mouse as Horse and I roamed the neighborhood. Our home was happy. In September of 1961 my dad went to work as I roller skated on the sidewalk in front of our house on Porter Street in Freemont. He never came home. My mother was devastated; my brothers and I were lost. I found a picture of my father taken at a bowling alley, all smiles in his team shirt with his right arm swung back in the perfect pose for a strike. I taped the picture to the door frame of my bedroom and cried. In January he remarried, living in Texas with a new wife, a new house, and a 11-year

1950

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Where were you in 1950? I've probably lost most of my readers by now, but for those of you with an AARP card, let's take a trip down memory lane. Maybe we'll do the 60s and 70s in the next couple of posts, but then skip over the 80s: the era of big hair and leg warmers. I was born in 1953 and so don't have a lot to add to this decade, but I recently ran across some files that one of my cousins sent me, one of which was a list of questions to be completed by students from Orrick High School in Orrick, Missouri. My mother's home town. Blogger won't let me attach the file, but I thought I'd take a stab at answering the questions myself. 1. When did your family come to Orrick and from where? How long have you been living in Orrick? I've only been to Orrick a couple of times: once when I was a baby, once when I was about 6, and then in January of 1972 when my grandmother had a stroke. My mother's family started pouring in around 1835 from Kentucky,