Too Many Moves

The reason I have a great recall of many experiences back to the age of three, is because my family moved from house to house to house to house. I remember certain things that took place in each of these many houses. I can't explain why the folks moved so many times, though.

By the time I was three, we had moved four times, but all within the same area. The next house was rented and called Keller's house and had trees in the back yard where huge green worms lived and fell on me while I used the swing my father put up for me. I guess swinging shook them out of their cozy home. Of course, I gave up swinging. So we moved to the next block, but down a block or two. I loved this house when I was four because it had blueberries in the front yard. It was a two story house, but unfinished upstairs. This is where I learned what was underneath the sheet rock or plaster. Here is where one of my little friends dropped a whole roll of toilet paper into the toilet. I was so scared that I would get blamed. I don't remember getting punished, though.

I don't think we stayed there very long, and soon moved out of the "additions to the city" to the city proper. Twelfth Street South. I loved this house. It had an ironing board that dropped out of the kitchen wall and a swinging door between the kitchen and dining room. By this time I was six, and was bullied by an older girl who waited in the bushes to pounce on me on my way home from the nearby school. My mother reported her to the school principal, and she quit pouncing.

Then we moved to 2nd Street South and 2nd Avenue where my father ran a gas station and the house came with it. But because my father extended credit to his customers, people didn't pay their bills, and Pa lost the gas station along with the house, and we had to move again.

We moved to 2nd Street North in the upstairs part of the two family house. I wrote a blog about living there. Just an awful experience, and I didn't even mention the bullies. We endured living there for about two years, and then bought a home and we were back to an addition to the town again. Loved this house, but had to move because the people that sold it to us, really didn't own it. So we moved to another addition to the town. Then this house was offered for sale, and we couldn't buy it. So my mother said, "We are going to build our house and quit moving!" And they did. Little by little it came into fruition and was quite attractive for those Great Depression days.

But eventually Ma wanted Pa to build another house, so he did, right next door to that house. There they lived until Pa retired.
Pa built a cabin on Lake Vermillion and they lived there in the summer. In the winter, they lived in Mississippi where Pa built another very nice little house. But then they then moved to Florida, and bought another house. (Pa was tired of building houses) I think Hurricane Katrina destroyed the Gulf Coast house, and a fire destroyed the Lake Vermillion Cabin.

But as far as I go, I have lived in this house for thirty-eight years. I think I might get an urge to move one of these days. It's just in me.