Childhood Memories

​Some childhood memories may be better left unsaid…

Or speak out, and rid yourself of all the fear and dread…*

Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay, 

An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away, 

An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep, 

An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep;

An’ all us other childern, when the supper things is done, 

We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun 

A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ‘at Annie tells about, 

An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you 

Ef you Don’t Watch Out!

(lines from “Little Orphant Annie” 1885 by James Whitcomb Riley)

Some are luckier than others

Given their fathers and mothers,

But never doubt the love they had 

Through all your times of good and bad.

Write your story!*

**May Lyn 2016



We moved many times but my favorite memories are of Westville. We lived above Local Union #322 on Broadway across from Dr. Camp’s and the post office. I remember…dressing up for the Halloween parade every year, won a couple times; walking to school across the tracks, in town, and Parkview; happy times at the pond; visiting the library over the police station helped me cope; lunch at FranDan’s; spending my church offering at Shorty’s (don’t tell Fr. Conklin!); attended St Luke’s and was married there; many movies at The Embassy (experienced puppy love and gift of Red Lilac Cologne from boy who was driven into town in the back of pickup, so sorry can’t remember his name); next door was Murphy’s Garage, Jimmy was a friend; when the creek overflowed we swam in the middle of Broadway, yikes! Each Summer evening the mosquito truck would emit the toxins to prevent the growth of the Skeeter’s…we tried to close all windows before it came by, yikes! Bought penny candy from the blind man across the street from school, and yes, he knew how to make correct change…amazing! Thank God for a lingering memory !!



“STOP CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE before a child is harmed. Trauma can bring isolation and fear to kids. Show them that they are not alone.” ~EF

“Uncle’s Game”
It was a beautiful day
I was cheerful and gay
Tired of play
I want to dream in my own way
But on the bed uncle was there
He pulled me up and caressed my hair
He kissed me and murmured in soft voice
If you shout, I will do it thrice
Time and bloody bed sheets were only witness
Bed sheets were burned and time is ceaseless
I want to cry-cry and cry
But my soul is wounded and my eyes are dry
~Aashish Ameya

I can sympathize with you.
In my case, it was an uncle too.
My childhood demon took the form of a man.
He took me by the hand,
Now I understand.

One definition of uncle is a pawn broker. Pawn is defined as a person used by others for their own purposes.

The proctor buys a pupil ices
And hopes the boy will not resist,
When he attempts to practice vices
Few people even know exist.” ~Edward Gorey (master of dark humor)

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were–I have not seen
As others saw–I could not bring
My passions from a common spring–
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow–I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone–
And all I lov’d–I lov’d alone.
Then–in my childhood–in the dawn
Of a most stormy life–was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still–
From the torrent, or the fountain–
From the red cliff of the mountain–
From the sun that round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold–
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by–
From the thunder, and the storm–
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
~Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

“Often and often afterwards, the beloved Aunt would ask me why I had never told anyone how I was being treated. Children tell little more than animals, for what comes to them they accept as eternally established.” ~Rudyard Kipling

The most important thing parents can do is to believe what their children tell them; or the evidence that is placed before them. When I think back to my childhood demon, it’s hard to understand why my parents didn’t believe what the police told them. They were just in denial, I guess. So, my childhood demon was only that to me, while on the surface he continued to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing…the poor loving, attentive, misunderstood uncle!

Beware and Keep Aware.
‘Thank you’ from all of us with lost childhoods.