I find myself thinking of days gone by, back when I was a child, trying to jog my brain for every little detail of my childhood days. I don't want to forget anything that I have remembered.
My earliest memories were of Mississippi. I was born in Biloxi, moved to Gulfport, and we stayed there until I was four years old. Dad was in the Air Force. We lived off base at three different locations, one of which was Beach Street, US 90, water front, on the Gulf. I loved the beach (what child doesn't.) Mom talks of this place much, of how nice it was, but I don't remember it. It had a big southern porch with those two-story southern style pillars.
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| Then... The year was 1962, the place of my earliest memory. |
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| Elaine and I |
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Now... This was where my home once stood in Gulfport, Mississippi, now replaced with one similiar to it. It was two blocks from the beach, but after Hurricane Katrina in 2005, there wasn't much left of anything in the surrounding area. Thank you Google Earth. |
I do remember our third home, a smaller house of wood siding and a quaint front porch. What I recall is walking in my backyard down to the little stream that went from one side of the yard to the other and a little frog jumped out of the creek and headed straight for the front yard. I followed him curiously. He headed towards the street where I was afraid he was going to get hit by a car that was approaching, when suddenly he disappeared. I was upset that I couldn't find this little critter and here he had jumped down a manhole in the street, so my dad said. That is my earliest memory. I was three.
