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Entries this day: A_camera Dream Early Memories Neighborhood Nowells Ridgeway brenda david tribune zzzz A camera 9:22pm CDT Thursday 17 October 2002 Getting ready for dream capturing tonight. 5:54am CDT Friday 18 October 2002 I seem to be done sleeping. I had a dream about being in California, though I don't remember who else was there. In a different dream, I was in this neighborhood in Columbia, and had carte blanche for everything I wanted. Becky from WV was funding everything. Sh kept saying "it doesn't matter" when I told her how much stuff would cost. - - - - I'm suddenly thinking a lot about my missing camera. How would this trip have been different if I had a camera? When I take pictures, it's usually of things or signs or people that I meet, and rarely pictures that include me, for that would mean letting someone else work the camera, plus something else like me being egotistical "oh take a picture of me! *I'm* the star; take a cpicture of me" and I think that's coming from the time I went to Costa Rica with Katherine (sp) and she got mad at me because I kept asking her to take pictures of me whereever we went. "It's all about you.." or some shit like that. Well, I hereby release that false concern and will take as many pictures of me and my peeps as I want. From now on. soon as I get my camera back. It's at Best Buy, or maybe they have finished the work and sent it to Bibby's house. But I haven't heard from them that it's there. How strange to have gone on this entire adventure and not have a single picutre, except those in my mind. I don't even think anyone else has taken a picture that includes me, except for security cameras in stores and such. That could prove that I've been places. - - - - This non-camera-having adventure has given me an opportunity to practice descriptive writing, and has saved me from spending a lot more time on my computer processing images. Somewhere between these two extremes (SWUUSI and this trek) is a balance of sorts. It includes better software than iPhoto, and a better layout on my website for pictures. I will likely purchase a disposable camera from the drugstore down the street so I can get pics of at least my old neighborhood. I think I will go for a walk to those places I remember walking to. Drugstore, the creek (drainage ditch), around the block. How far away are these places really? permalinkDream 6:19am CDT Friday 18 October 2002 Okay, so I woke up to this most recent dream: I found myself outside of this (Norma's) house, and walking past my old house. Did they add on that garage? Hmmm. What about that wall there? I tried to visualize myself at 8 years old, playing in these locations. These were added onto the right hand side of the house, as viewed from the street. The house looked so small. I was surprised by how quickly I walked past it and the other houses. I turned back around and noticed how I seemed to be out of body; I could just let myself float anywhere I wanted to go; allow my 8-year-old's mind just lead the way. He looked up and I noticed my car was gone; I saw it being driven toward the back of my old house, so I walked after it and discovered that all the cars that had been parked in front of the street there had been targeted. I walked back there all mad at first, "hey! blah blah blah" and then I immediately apologized and said, "I have a fantastic story to tell you, and it's all true," to the guy who seemed to be the boss of this operation. Next to him were two Mexican cats and they looked quite interested in my story so I asked "hablan ingles?" of them, and added "muy bien o un poco?" "Un poco," they smiled. Ah well, so I didn't try to translate it for them; I don't think I know that much spanish, even in my dreams. "See that house there?" We were behind it and couldn't actually see it, but he knew where I was pointing. "I used to live there 24 years ago." His stern look melted away. "Really?" "Yep, and I have just been talking to Norma and to Jill, and they all said it was fine for me to park on the street.." "Well, this is the minimum I can charge you" and the ticket had been crossed off from $80 to $30 to $3.00. I thought about asking him to just skip the whole thing, but I realized it as a dream and that when we woke up, I would still have all my own money back. Hahah joke's on him! I paid him three bucks and woke up. permalinkEarly 6:42am CDT Friday 18 October 2002 I have to P, but all the doors are closed in te back area; I'm not sure which is the restroom. 8:53am So I briefly met Linda, who got up just as I wrote the above snippet. I know which room is the restroom, and I must say, that was my first guess. permalinkMemories 8:55am CDT Friday 18 October 2002 Things I remember:
This could go on forever. Things I remember but haven't seen yet:
Neighborhood 9:40am CDT Friday 18 October 2002 I'm going to go for a walk around the neighborhood now and see what else I can see/do/remember. 9:55am This walk would be the perfect time for a dictation recorder, as suggested by Steve, who I met as part of the production crew for Dirty Third II. I'm sitting at the top of the hill down which Fred and I would sled in the snowy winters (me on the sled and him on my back). The hill is so not tall that I said, "oh.. my.. god..." at how not tall it is. I mean it's probably 200 feet long and drops in elevation about 40 feet (about the height of one snowman), but it's not the precipice (sp) one might see in Calvin and Hobbes, as it was back in the day. Okay, not scary back in the day, but worthy of sledding down multiple times. I'm going to walk down to the creek now. Oh, for the record, the tree under which I am sitting has firey red leaves on the tips of its branches. The rest of the leaves are still green. 10:06am The creek, however, is just the right size, shape, and depth. I can see evidence of its flood levels consistent with my memory of that rainy flooded (non) schoolday. This is just right. - - - - Woah. This lake was not here. I walked upstream and past Broadway it's a lake instead of whatever it was. Not a lake, but a creek going through the middle of nothing. 10:58am I'm walking around the block now, and have discovered a house for sale that was built in 1960 according to the literature. I remembered the two ex-deadends on the block (they were originally circles at the end of the street, but now the street goes through). But I'm writing because I have just witnessed history in the making with a guy laying bricks on his home just at the corner of Crestland and Stewart. At the top of the T intersection. Fourteen bricks are layed so far. 11:26am Have just spoken with Brenda at D&H, the drugstore I remember so well. Well, maybe not so well, but well enough to know that the door used to be on the east side of the building instead of the south, and that the front counter was just to the left as one walked in. (The counter is on the left of the entrance again, but since the entrance moved, the counter moved.) She seemed really fascinated with my story and encouraged me to write to the Tribune about my experiences re-visiting the place. I wonder if I'll do that. Super thanks to Brenda for being so supportive and blessing my adventure. She gave me a phone book to look up Ridgeway Elementary, where I used to attend school. Gave me directions to it as well. I'm going to walk there, oh and I want to walk to see if Noel's is still there. I'm guessing I'm spelling that name incorrectly. 11:39am Walking down West Boulevard now, and I remember these houses that I found so mysterious back in the day, for they have no walkway between their doors and the sidewalk. They are The Village Apartments, and these doors are the back doors; the parking lot and front doors are on the other side. Mystery solved! 11:45am I talked with peeps at the front desk of the elementary school on West Blvd, and asked if they had heard of Busy Bee preschool, cause that's where I went to preschool. It's not listed in the phone book. Ah well, some things were bound to change. ;-) I wonder if Noel's is still there. permalinkNowells 12:00pm CDT Friday 18 October 2002 Nowel's!!!!! It's here! It's here! But the building is vacated; I can just make out the name of where the letters *used* to be. This is where Fred and David and I walked to see the lobsters on that afternoon turned night. We were watching the lobsters possibly longer than we understood because it was on the edge of getting dark when we left. Something like that. Anyway, the building is still here! The business has moved to Nifong and/or Keene St. (The sign says CLOSED PLEASE SHOP OUR NIFONG & KEENE ST. STORES. THANK YOU!, so I don't know if they have two stores on two different streets (at what address, please?) or one set of stores at the corner of those streets.) What I can't tell from the sign is if it's Nowell's or Nowel's, because there is simply a block where the L(s) used to be. I dunno if it was a stylized Ll or what. Okay, now I'm going to find Ridgeway and see if anyone knows/remembers Mrs Fails or Mrs Schuppe. 12:11pm Ah. Have just spoken with Lanny and Scott, chillin' in a truck in the parking lot. Scott comfirms that Nowell's is spelled with two l's. Lanny has done body work on cars for 20 some years, but he's looking to get out of it. Possibly into computers, but doesn't know where to start. I invited him to email me for contacts. permalinkRidgeway 1:12pm CDT Friday 18 October 2002 Wow. Guess, just guess who is the Principal of the school??? Mrs Fales! Sorry for all the years of misspelling your name in my mind. She gave me a tour of the building, which looks remarkably the same as it did back in the day. The huge tree is missing from the playground, and there is a small parking lot where there used to be part of the playground, but the rest is the same. Walking up the steps to the rooms in which I had 1st and 2nd grade just blew me away. Just the same. Water fountains in the same place. "That was the room where you were, and that was Mrs Schupp's room!" (more misspellings in my mind) Just like I had left them all those years ago. How beautiful. Mrs Fales showed me the library (not quite the same configuration as I remember it) and where the music room is located (it was locked), and the language lab (room had moved, but it was still downstairs) where I had learned how to count to 12 in German, plus guten morgen and guten nacht and some others that I didn't learn well enough to remember now. The cafeteria is in the same place but is so small! The running joke for returning students: "we shrunk it while you were gone." Once I saw it, I remembered that the principal's office has a window overlooking the cafeteria. The lunch line is in the same place but shorter than it used to be (lunches were 45 cents per day), and the stage is in the same place. Up on that stage we had a presentation thing where we did penny drops off a highbar ("highbar being a gymnastic term, not necessarily describing the height of the bar") and a cake walk. Mrs Fales reminded me of Mr Logan, the well-dressed playground supervisor, who is still here and still well-dressed. I haven't gotten to see him today though. I told her about the time we saw the Goodyear Blimp during recess and crossed The Big Yellow Line, across which we were not allowed. Had to sit out the rest of that recess in Mrs Schupp's room. Mrs Schupp is teaching down somewhere else; I've forgotten what Mrs Fales said, but they remain occasional contact. 1:35pm Some kid has just gotten in trouble and sent down to the principal's office. He's sitting silently in the seat next to me. I'm about to roll out of here once Mrs Fales is done meeting with whomever she converses now and I learn what is Ridgeway's website. permalinkbrenda 3:22pm CDT Friday 18 October 2002 I just talked with Brenda at D&H; smilingly told her of my adventures at Ridgeway. When I said, "the principal is Mrs Fales, my first grade teacher... and she remembered me!" a wave of sadness washed over me.. But not sadness exactly, more like "wow I can't believe she actually remembered me" feeling of relief, disbelief, amazement. I'm not sure what to call it, but I wasn't willing to cry in the store; I held it back. Thank you Brenda for being a smiling mirror for my adventure. Thank you for your encouragement to write to the Tribune. permalinkdavid 2:44pm CDT Friday 18 October 2002 I have just called the number in the phone book for David, my best friend from 1st grade. It's his old line and is now used as his mom's comptuer line, but still has his name on it in the phone book. She gave me his phone number in Scottsdale AZ! According to her, he's a chef now. Totally awesome! permalinktribune This is the text I will send to The Tribune, Columia's daily newspaper. 3:26pm CDT Friday 18 October 2002 Return to Columbia Pulling onto Sunset Lane, I couldn't believe how narrow it was. Not even a line down the middle of the street. I crept my car slowly forward in the dark, looking for familiar shapes. That's it! That's the house! I stopped for a moment to catch my thoughts. Several cars were parked out front, so I had to park in front of the neighboring house. I could see the flickering glow of the TV on inside, so at least I know they are awake. I figure I must have carte blanche to just come knock on the door of a stranger's house. No doorbell. I opened the screen door to knock. A tall kid peers out the top window of the door, "who is it?" I don't remember what I told him, but then when he opened the door I said, "Hi. I used to live here twenty-four years ago." Amazingly, this was the family of the mom who bought the house from my parents in 1978. The mom was in the dining room, and she remembered my name. She had some questions that I couldn't answer, like when were certain roooms added onto the house. I wondered if my handprints were still on the concrete slab in the basement where my dad's workbench used to be. She didn't know, but she said that's where her washer and dryer are now. She did know that Norma still lived across the street. I walked across the street, knocked on the door. A woman answered by opening the door and peering out. "Norma..?" "Yes?" "I'm Robert Nugen." "What?" She's apparently hard of hearing. "I'M ROBert NUgen!" "Oh my Lord," and she gave me a hug and whisked me inside. We traded stories; I showed her a picture of my brother who was then four years old. She showed me a picture of Carolyn, who now has two kids and lives up in Oregon. She fed me two slices of leftover pizza and gave me the couch to sleep. - - - - Next morning I explored the neighborhood during the day. I spent several minutes looking for the zipper I had thrown into the street that was subsequently smashed permanently into the asphalt. I didn't find it, but I did see a couple of other items (penny, bottle cap) in the asphalt that I imagined I do remember. I walked down toward the creek and stopped short at Hillside Drive. The hill was so small. My brother and I used to sled down this hill in the winters. Me on the sled, and him on my back. Wasn't this hill well over 100 feet tall? 500 feet long? Steeper than a staircase? Not anymore. Turned right down Hillside Drive, and disappeared into the bushes at Broadway. The creek was *exactly* as I left it. Same amount of water, same rocks, same everything. What a beautiful sight. I walked downstream (or in this case, downtrickle) about 100 feet, but was blocked by that same deep section of water than vexed me many times as an 8 year old. I chose not to circumnavigate it by walking through the neighboring back lawns. Back upstream, through the tunnel underneath Broadway, everything looked fine until I found a dam with a lake behind it! When did this appear? Who authorized it? What's going on here? The staff at the nearby law offices didn't really know when it was built, but guessed around 15 years ago. Less than 24 years, in any case. Two other folks said around 10 years ago it had been built. But the prairie of flowers seemed far grander than the small lake. Up Broadway I walked to D&H and spoke with Brenda who seemed delighted with my pilgramage. She verified my memory that the front door of D&H used to be on the east side of the building instead of the south, and that the front counter was over there instead of here. After D&H, I walked toward Nowell's to see if it was still there. I knew the walk well because my best friend David and I, plus my little brother (age 4 at the time) had walked from our house to Nowell's to see the lobsters in the tank. We made it to the store with no problem, but on the way back the sky got dark and stormy. My brother began to cry, which made me cry even though David said not to because it might make him cry. We were picked up by some of our neighbors in the pouring rain after my parents had put out a neighborhood alert to find us. I feel so blessed at my timing. The building is still there and I could barely make out the non-weathered wall where the letters used to say Nowell's with a big letter W in the middle. Fantastic! I peered through the dusty windows to see medical equipment on the liquor side, and where I thought the lobsters might have been on the grocery side. One last adventure awaited me that day. Ridgeway Elementary, where I attended first and second grade with Mrs Fales and Mrs Schupp, respectively. Brenda had given me directions, so I walked directly there with no problem. Wow. Ridgeway. It's still here. Not five times bigger like my high school. Not vanished like my preschool. Just the same. Only a little bit of landscaping in front to greet me. In the office I stood politely for a moment until acknowledged. "May I help you?" "Um, probably. I used to attend school here in 1977 and 1978." "Do you remember your teachers' names?" "Mrs Fales for first grade and Mrs Schupp for second." "Well, Mrs Fales is now our principal..." I didn't hear whatever else she said, but the woman I had seen through the glass *did* look familiar, but I hadn't guessed it might be her! Mrs Fales remembered me! What a beautiful thing to be remembered after so many years. I told her I was in the midst of a road trip around some of the eastern states after losing my job in Houston, Texas. "So I sold off most of my stuff, got rid of my apartment, and I'm just driving around visiting friends and family." Mrs Fales gave me a tour of the school, through several rooms I didn't remember whatsoever, and then up the stairs to the classrooms that I remembered so well. Memories flooding into my mind as I ascended the steps to the rooms in which I attended first and second grade just blew me away. Water fountains in the same place. "That was the room where you were, and that was Mrs Schupp's room!" Mrs Fales nodded. That's where I learned to write my alphabet. That's where I was the only kid in class to spell "sure" correctly. That's where I had to miss the rest of recess after crossing The Big Yellow Line to watch the blimp fly by. That's where I remember seeing Nafi cry because some other kids had called him Nafi Fafi. (not me, I swear.) Downstairs, the cafeteria was strikingly smaller than it had been when I left it. Mrs Fales tells many former students that they shrank the school while we were gone. This cafeteria taught me that 45 plus 45 is 90 because on some days I would forget my 45 cents worth of lunch money and have to pay 90 cents the next day. The playground behind the school is almost the same. A small portion of it is taken by parking, and the huge tree has passed on to tree heaven. Back in Mrs Fales office, she let me browse through the yearbooks, the oldest of which were 1976-1977 and 1977-1978, exactly the two that I wanted to see. I photocopied the single page that includes my picture, David's picture, and Melinda's picture (who I thought was so pretty that I kissed her on the knee while we were all sitting on the floor to watch a film strip). Mrs Fales said that she had seen David recently, so I looked him up in the phone book.permalink zzzz 9:28pm CDT Friday 18 October 2002 I'm watching Comedy Central now. Standup comedy. Heehee. Tamara just came home and offered to let me sleep on the bed in the room behind her room. Awesome. Plus it has internet access so I can read google news and livejournal. 11:55pm I just watched Porn N Chicken, Comedy Central's first original movie. Cute, and interesting that the main character's big finale was to drive to California with no agenda. Kinda like me? Maybe, I guess. permalinkprev day next day |