Revisiting Childhood

Memories

“Growing up in a particular neighborhood, growing up in a working-class family, not having much money, all of those things fire you and can give you an edge, can give you an anger.”

Gary Oldman

Driving through the old neighborhoods where we once lived in Chattanooga, it became clear just how working-class our families were. My own father worked as a draftsman for the TVA, and Sandy's dad was a welder with Koehring Crane. They put on their boots everyday and went to work, and their wives stayed home. Our mothers starched our clothes to hang on outside lines; they ironed, and cooked and cleaned. These were all folks who grew up in the Great Depression, who had experienced the terrible loss and poverty of that decade, and so appreciated having work that provided food for their families.

The neighborhood was poor, small, and close, with cottage style arts and crafts houses built in the 1920's and 30's. They had 4 or 5 rooms and one bathroom. I still remember my aunt Marge washing clothes in the bathtub with a washboard. It was not an easy life. Yet, somehow, we kids had no experience of our shared poverty. We had a neighborhood blessed with children, and the freedom to explore and delve into every part and pocket of it. We walked to school, even on cold days, and had no fear that there might be danger lurking about. We rode the bus downtown, and thought nothing of going alone anywhere we wanted to go as long as we were home by dinner. If we got into trouble at school, we were also in trouble at home. Parents backed up the teachers, and reinforced the rules.

Learning to navigate the neighborhood was part of learning to navigate life. We learned how to get along with people, how to organize and lead, how and who to follow, how to stand up for our beliefs and state our case, and when to simply go with the flow. And the family was tight. We had regular family meals, and gatherings with cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles. You didn't blab the family secrets and you didn't tell anyone your family's business. The rules were clear and undisputed.

In revisiting these memories, I realized once again that money isn't everything, that happiness can be found anywhere if you're looking for it, and that the love of family and friends can make up for many a deficit.

I hope you're day is filled with memories that lead you back to yourself.

                                                     In the Spirit,

                                                           Jane