First Memory
In a psychology class we were asked to prepare a paper about our first real memory as a child. I would like to share mine with you.
I was five or six years old and I traveled with my Mother and Sister to Uncle Art's farm outside of Stratford, Ontario. It was only 165 miles from our home in Michigan but it took four hours to drive there because all of the roads were two lane highways back then. When we arrived, we drove up a long gravel driveway with tall trees on each side. The house was on the right. It was an old Victorian style brick home with a large front porch. The home was much larger than our home in Michigan. From what I recall, the inside of the home was rather plain. A large wood burning stove dominated the kitchen. The walls were tall and shell no-pest strips hung from the white tin ceiling. The Farm had a utility shed and a barn. In the utility shed was a large Massey Ferguson tractor and a bunch of old rusty farm equipment. The barn had two old work horses (retired), a bunch of dairy cows and several pigs. I learned to milk a cow with my cousin Ray who was six months younger than me. We played on the hay stack and also got to go on a tractor ride with my Uncle Art. The farm had a large watch dog named Queenie. She was a German Sheppard mix and appeared very mean until she got familiar with you. It was a spectacular trip for a city kid! I did not want to leave when it was time to go home.
Funny how you can remember details from 50 years ago and can forget what you did last weekend? What is your first real childhood memory?
Ken Flaska
