My beginning in pictures

Jim was *down home* the other day, and took a whole bunch of pictures. Among them were these that spoke a little of my early life.... well, I guess you would consider my birth about as early as you could get wouldn't you. The first picture is of the hospital where I was born in Helena, Arkansas. It is also one of the very first places of employment in my mid teens when I went to work there in the laboratory. I got paid $75 month while the "Candy Stripers" were doing volunteer work. I don't know how I learned of the availability of this position, but I do remember going to apply for it in what have been to the hospital administrator in a front office of the hospital. Just guessing. Later, the laboratory director came to meet me, and he took me with him to the lab. Aha! History in the making!! It is hilarious the first few days on the job.....the BIG books he brought out for me to read! After a few days he wised up, and brought on the practical work. Now we were really getting some place. The only problem I can look back and see is that I really LOVED this work, first running tests, and then phlebotomy. But, I had tunnel vision.....nursing. Nothing else doing. But, who knows, maybe I would not have continued to love it so much had I taken this road, and blah, blah, blah. I have to remember my life is what is has been because of the decisions made along the way, so it is important not to second guess anything along the way. Besides, I said this is *ME* in pictures, and not what I might have been in hind sight. *ME* in reality.

*ME* as I entered this complicated world of ours August 27, 2942

Helena Hospital

There are no pictures here of my church, West Helena Baptist in West Helena, Arkansas, but it played an important role in my developmental years. It is also where Jim and I got maried in 1962. There are pictures of it elsewhere, just not here today.

Here is my high school, with no pictures of Beech Crest and Woodruff, elementary and middle school.

Central High School
Graduated 1960

The gift our class left the school

This is what was the bowling alley, where Jim first saw me, and wanted to have a date with me, telling his niece Verne to try to get me one; we worked together at Doughboy. She did; we did; here we are today, 47 years later.

The museum where I worked, and where we sat on the Monday morning before Jim had to return to Montgomery, and I had to go in and work. :( It was then that we decided to *up the date* of our marriage to two weeks later. NOW I understand how these children can make the decisions they do without seeming regard for their elders involved. Did we consider Mama? She went with the flow, and had everything ready. A formal church wedding all done, and wrapped in a pretty bow in just a few days less than two weeks. So what? I was young and in love! Time. What was time? Money? What was it, other than what it was costing Jim to keep coming home for us to be together. WE were what mattered wasn't it? Oh, is this good for me to be remembering. I know of some other nineteen year old girls. Nooooo. I don't want to remember all of this. I was not irresponsible. Nooooo not me. I don't want to take any more closer looks. It's funny. Maybe we were museum pieces before we ever started. Oh, what do I mean by that? I don't know, but it just strikes me as funny that the museum plays a part in the beginning of our marriage. Ha! Make you up your own story if you dare. Funny, funny. A pink building nonetheless. See, it just gets funnier, and funnier.

I think this probably ought to be the stopping point. I'm getting in deep here. Besides, this is the end of my developmental years. Why, two weeks from this point, I am a married woman, no more of this early childhood, developmental years. If I haven't got it now, tough! Too late now.

He did have many pictures around town, especially Cherry Street where we "drug Cherry " to see who we could see, blowing our horns, waving to everyone, depicting my lifetime in the 40s and 50s, but too many for here today. Maybe I just don't want to show the worn down and out look of it all. A reflection? Mercy goodness, I hope not. Can we grow older without looking so what...... worn to a frazzle?

Besides, maybe we aren't too terribly bad..... ;-)

Thank you, Jim, for all the photos