For those who are reading this for the first time, I’ve been posting my Aunt Eleanor’s memoir to my blog. She’s 86 and has had polio since she was 4 months old.  Italicized comments are mine.  Read previous blog postings for more information and to view video.  My aunt has been moved to a skilled nursing facility while she recovers from excessive fluid in her system.  There was a mix-up in medications and she got a build up in fluid, went back to the hospital after going home, and is now in the nursing facility.  Talked to her today and she said she was in some pain from bloating, but was determine to get will and get home. 

Chapter 12

Fred

1943  proved to be not only my graduating year, but also the year that I met Fred.  (Fred is my mother’s brother) My girl friend Beryl and I would confer on the phone each evening to decide what time we would catch the bus to go to the skating rink which was “the place to be” at the time. I had never been self-conscious about my disability. I don’t know what came over me, but at one point when Beryl would call I started to make excuses as to the reason I couldn’t meet her. This went on for two weeks and I don’t know whether I ran out of excuses or I came to my senses. When Beryl called that evening I said, “Great! I’ll see you on your corner.” When she got on the bus she said, “It’s a good thing you said yes because I had decided that was the last time I would call you.” It was just a few days later when we were standing around at the rink talking to some friends and another friend of mine came over to tell me a friend of his wanted to meet me. I hesitated, but Laval vouched for him so I went. Almost immediately Fredand I found something to argue about. He worked at Higginbotham Shipyards and I worked at Pollock’s Shipyards. He had a Waltham watch and I had a Bulova. Somehow we laughed our way through these arguments and when he asked me for a date I accepted.

Chapter 13

Courtship

During our courtship, Motor Movies was a big thing. We would get some friends together and go a couple of times a week. Stockton (80 miles east of San Francisco) was a small town at this time and there were no malls, so everyone congregated or strolled on Main Street as a way of meeting or just passing the evening. Quite often Fred and I would just park somewhere on Main street and before long a friend or two would show up to chat and then a few more would stop by to see what was new.

There was only one swimming pool in town so most of the time when we decided to go swimming it would be out in the country where there was a bridge over an irrigation ditch. Usually we all jumped in at the same time. However there was one time the others were just lounging and of course I got impatient and went in the water. I kept hollering for them to come on in. The longer they waited the further away from the bridge I swam. Before I realized it I was very close to the huge suction pipe and then I did yell, but this time it was for help. Fred ran to the car and got a rope, threw it towards me as I was on the opposite side of the ditch. Gratefully I was able to grab the rope and I didn’t complain at all while he was pulling me back to safety even though the bank was very rough and rocky.

I had always heard if you fall off of a horse, get right back on to alleviate the fear that was caused by the fall. Therefore I got right back in the water, but was very careful to not go too far.