My earliest memories are; seeing my mother breast feed my sister upstairs in my grandparents home in Evanston; rolling my tricycle out the back stoop to the moving van; and looking at Buzzy and Danchu seated at the kitchen table while I peaked from behind my father’s leg. I can also see the white hexagon tiled floor of that bathroom upstairs at 1810 Hinman Avenue.
My mother was simply an heiress. I believe my father married her because she was pretty and because she had some wealth to support him. As a conscientious objector doing National Service in lieu of going to war, his prospects for a career were very limited. Mom purchased the farm next to the weekend retreat Hogback farm that her father obtained in 1933. The face picture for this blog was taken in about 1936 that shows both sets of acreage.
Windy Hill Farm are the buildings to the right rear. Our mansion was built beside the copse of oaks off to the left. My bed was at home. Yet most of my childhood was spent on my Uncle Don and Aunt Gerry’s farm where all the kids were. There were my sisters, Cynthia and Wendy Tittle; my cousins Don, Bill, and Bobby Stewart; and, Rudy and Blanche’s kids Judy, Karen, Paul, and David Schuler.
This Blog should really be called Hogback Farm Tales…it was much like A. A. Milne’s 100 acre wood. We all grew up there. Our adventures were endless. Our mischief was boundless.
With photographs and words I will tell a life’s story.
Just recently I constructed my life’s resume for the graduate school I attended. They are about to be visited by those who say they are doing a good job. My resume was to demonstrate that the degree I earned did prove that the school I attended did well for me. It was very concise; to the point; and most satisfying to realize “I did okay!”
Perhaps any lessons I learned might be helpful to others. However, I have learned that one must “experience” (active verb) in order to learn.
So I begin…