The Way We Were

You know you're getting older when you love to talk about the past instead of being anxious for the next birthday!  I had to laugh when I read my sister Beverly's blog, because she and her husband retraced his growing up years in Pocatello, Idaho, about the exact time George and I were doing the same here in Jacksonville, Florida.  The occasion was taking Bracken with us to show him his grandpa's old stomping grounds and to let him hear some stories that perhaps he hadn't heard before.  (Yes, I think he might be one of the only ones in the family who hadn't seen or heard about these memories.  He was a great sport and seemed to enjoy himself!)

The first place we passed on this trip of memories was the Naval Air Station which was just down the road from where he grew up.  This is one of the original Blue Angel planes because this is where they got their start. 

In front of Venetia Elementary where George attended fifth and sixth grade. 

George is pointing to his classroom.  He must have been the teacher's pet because literally she had him walk her dog each day. The teacher's dog had been hit by a car and the principal said she could bring her dog while he recouperated.  Walking the dog was the reward for being selected as the best student and for never getting in trouble.   What a way to get out of class!

The basketball nets out on the playground.  Definitely where many recesses were spent!

The Timuquana Country Club--in the very elite part of Jacksonville at that time and where many of the school dances were held. 

It is still a beautiful area with its majestic country club and Southern mansions. 

From the patio and looking out on the St. John's River with the Jacksonville skyline in the background. 

The park just down from George's home.  It definitely wasn't this nice as he was growing up--chain baskets and bumpy old tar on the ground, but the kids in the neighborhood loved to play there! 

Going up the lane to George's parent's former home, you see the mailbox that Grandpa Jim built.  He was a master plumber by trade, so he incorporated plumbing supplies while building it.  George really wants it as a remembrance of his father and has actually talked to the current owner.  He told him he would think about it. 

The home George lived in from when he was in the fifth grade until we were married. 

You can see the boat slip that Grandpa Jim had dredged behind the house--although he never owned a boat.  Snakes and yes, even alligators could often be seen in there.  I will verify that I saw gators sunning themselves on their lawn several times! 

This is the home George's parents lived in when he was born until they moved to the home on the river which was really just across the bridge.  Dwayne, George's brother, and he slept out on the porch--no air conditioning!  Whew!     

The little home behind the white house which Grandpa Jim built for George's sister and her husband to live in after she was married. 

The church where George attended until he left on his mission in 1965.  The Mormon Church sold it when they built a larger church a few miles away.  This church was actually right down the street from George's family's little white home--very convenient. 

This little shed was where they had many church picnics and dinners after Ward Conferences, etc. 

Wesconnett Elementary where George attended school from 1st through 4th grade. 

Lake Shore Elementary where George attended seventh through ninth grades. 

Since George was on the basketball team, this was the entrance he generally went in. 

The good ole' flag pole where the friends always met. 

This may just look like an ordinary street with a sidewalk crossing, but it holds a very vivid memory.   George was walking home after a ballgame by himself when some teenage boys jumped out of the car as he was crossing the sidewalk and beat him with a lead pipe.  They then took off in the car and left him there on the street bleeding profusely. 

The house on the corner where he was going to knock to get help, but he had so much blood on his face and hands, he was afraid of their reaction, so he walked on to a friend's parents' ice cream store where they called the police and his home. Only his sister was home at the time.  When she came to get him, she couldn't  believe the sight she saw.  He was taken to the doctor and they probably should have set his nose--it is still crooked and he bares the scar on his face to this day, but they just cleaned him up and sent him home. 

The field where George pitched softball for the Murray Hill Baptist team.  His two favorite sports growing up definitely were basketball and softball.   

George always tells the story of how his dad worked his job at the plumbing supply warehouse for him one day before a big game so that he would not be so tired for the game.  He points to where his dad was sitting in the stands after he worked George's shift. 

It was George's time at bat.  He didn't particularly like a couple of the calls by the umpire and let him know it.  The umpire told him he was out, and George was so angry he threw his bat.  He then looked in the stands and saw his dad sitting there.  He didn't say a thing until they were on their way home when he said to George, "What do you think the Baptists think of a Mormon boy now?"  That was all he needed to say.  It was a lesson George has never forgotten. 

On to Robert E. Lee High School.  They are doing some major renovating, so it doesn't look like too much right now.  Hopefully it will be done in time for school to start.  Interesting fact:  When George attended this high school in the 60s, it was a segregated school.  Only Whites could attend the school. 

Classrooms where he attended.

Famous Park and Copeland Street intersection--the corner where the Stake Center for the Mormon Church was until the church sold it. 

The side of the building where you went up to the Bishop's office. 

After a fantastic day of nostalgia, George had to take us by his favorite fast food place growing up--Krystals.  He alone got a few of those little hamburgers.  Bracken and I just can't stand how soggy they are and how disgusting they smell.  But, we let George enjoy them to finish out a wonderful day of memories.  Thanks for sharing your growing up years, Grandpa George!