Archive for the ‘A Wrinkled History’ Category

My first real home… with a tricycle

Sunday, September 3rd, 2006

It's 1:30 in the AM and I'm feeling type happy. I just posted 3 overdue entries and I feel I need to add one more.

I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah… Holy Cross hospital on June 12th, 1972 at approximately 9:12 PM. I don't remember my birth. :)

I spent the first 17 months of my life living in an apartment just down the street from my grandparents (my dad's parents) in South Salt Lake. Incidentally, my grandfather still lives in the house as of this entry and is going to turn 98 years old in a few months. My mom and dad bought their first house out in Sandy. They paid the down payment with sweat equity that entailed painting the inside of the house. I was almost 2 years old at the time and decided to "repaint" the walls with a purple crayon shortly after we moved in.Me on my tricycle... May, 1974

Here's a picture of the old house… taken May of 1974, and that cute kid on the tricycle is me. The house is still there (it's only about 33 years old as of this entry) but all the trees and bushes have matured nicely so it doesn't quite look the same as it does in the photo.

The funniest thing happened… I moved to Phoenix with my parents when I was 13 (after 12 years in that house). I lived there exactly 20 years to the day and then moved my family (my wife and 4 boys) back to Sandy… 1 mile from my old house. I get to see the old place every once in awhile. Strange….

My very first memory

Thursday, August 3rd, 2006

In an effort to write my entire life history a little bit at a time, I thought I would start with my very first memory. It goes like this:…

I was about two or so and was visiting my Grandma Service. I was crying for some unknow reason and was carrying around two Kerr canning rings. Where I got those, I have no clue, but I was chewing on them and can still taste the metal in my memory. I walked into my grandmother's living room and looked up through my teary eyes to see her take a picture of me… She was all blurry and looked like she was glowing. The picture may be the reason I remember everything so vividly.

Here is a drawing I did of the memory for a college art class:

My very first memory... my grandmother glowing from my tears
Click for a larger version

… If I find the photo she took of me, I will update this post with it.