Memories
By Claude Morita
Farm memories are a melange, nothing extraordinarily sad, mostly good times.
1. Sad Not being able to play the trombone, not being able to go fishing with Katchie, Jr., Flora and Betty, having a fight with Warren May at about 10 years old (being called a damned Jap in anger), not being able to do anything about it, sad and frightened when Mom screamed and cried at the loss of her brother, very sad when my (our) dog, Joe, died, having to eat veal when you raised the calf from infancy (still avoid veal if I can), Pearl Harbor Day was devastating (I think I heard it first on our old radio), I knew it was going to be awful for the family.
2. Happy. Going fishing with Katchie, Jr, Flora and Betty in bright sunlight and walking the creeks, studying creeks for the best places for trout, bringing them home for Mom to cook for all of us, picking cherries for pay (eating quite a bit and getting paid for it!), being around the Dethmans (everybody in the whole family made us happy), Fourth of July with the entire family with five American flags pinned to the radiator cap of our old Buick, Thanksgiving Day with the whole family, eating apple and pumpkin pies that Dorothy and Ruth made, really getting excited at pulling at the wishbone with someone in the family, being able to do chores for the family when everyone else was sick with measles or other contagious things, Oshogatsu with mochi tsuki with the Tameno's, Okido's and other people, hoeing a good row of strawberry plants in beautiful spring weather, going to Portland to see double features and eating hamburger steaks, being treated equally, disregarding snooty, disdainful people, having real camaraderie with schoolmates, acceptance from schoolmates, holding hands with Daphne Nunamaker, knowing how to spell words that my classmates couldn't, being at graduation ceremonies for Dorothy and Ruth and listening to their speeches (I don't know where Paul's graduation was).