Showing posts with label 1980. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1980. Show all posts

Monday, September 5, 2011

"Welcome to Portland, Oregon"

Oregon state line, Welcome to Oregon by JOn's ~=:-) view
“Welcome to Portland, Oregon”
That is the announcement the pilot just made. I was 12, and I just arrived in my new home.
Yesterday, I was a carefree kid at summer camp in California, about to return to where I thought my home was, which was Modesto, Ca. A Lot happened while I was away at camp. Today, I landed at Portland, Oregon, my New home.
Yup! My World just got interesting. My family moved out of state while I was at summer camp!

(See the blog http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html )

The events that led to my family moving to Oregon were not a surprise. What was surprising was that it actually happened, and suddenly, too! We had come to believe it would not.

My Dad designed and built the 9-1-1 emergency system which is used nation-wide now. Many of you do not remember when 9-1-1 did not exist for emergency calls. Prior to dialing 9-1-1, there was a list of phone numbers posted by the phone for each emergency agency. There was a separate number for police, for fire, and for ambulance. Each system had their own dispatch center, instead of what we now know as an all-in-one center. The individual agencies would contact the other agencies to attempt to coordinate needed services. As you can imagine, this was not efficient, and often left plenty of room for error.

In the 1970’s, using his background, and education in communications, phone companies, computers, military, and emergency services, my Dad helped develop a universal system for a one-call emergency dispatch system. This is what the 9-1-1 system is. A Person calls one number, and that dispatch center handles all dispatches for all emergency services needed. He was well-known, respected, and in high demand as communities across America started adapting the new 9-1-1 centers. He often traveled to train and assist others in getting their systems started, and learn the details. Often many communities would send their people to where he was already building a system. They would learn, and take those skills back home to their own community to implement. The system was expanding rapidly. My dad was always busy, always traveling, and in extreme high demand. To us, that was just normal. That was his job, and where he was dedicated.

We understood how he needed to travel, and how important this was. At the time, we lived in San Jose, California. This was our community, our home, our lives. As you can imagine, once an area is up and running with the new system, he would have worked himself right out of a job. He had to keep expanding to newer areas. For a while, he was able to just keep working outward from where we lived in San Jose. In 1978 there was no longer anything local for him, so we had to move. We moved 90-miles away to a new town, called Modesto, California. It was the middle of the school year when we moved. (At the time, I was convinced that the REAL Reason we moved was because Mom did not approve of my new “Girlfriend”. I was 10, and in the fifth-grade. Jenny was a redhead, and she had recently taught me how to pop my knuckles. Mom did not like this idea at all! Shortly after this, is when we moved.)
Moving to Modesto was the first time since the age of two that we had moved. So, this was a new experience for us kids. It was still close-enough to our old home, friends, and community in the San Jose area. We were still able to stay connected to what was familiar, and where we had our roots. We often drove the 90-miles to stay involved.
Dad’s work and travel continued while we lived in Modesto. After two years there, he was completely out of work in that region. People in Portland, Oregon were needing his skills, and made him an offer to move up there. He loaded up a few things in his van, and off he went by himself. Mom and Dad told us we all were moving to Portland, but for now it was just him.

They listed our house for sale, and often Mom would fly-up to help Dad look for a house in Portland. We packed much of our house, and just kept living in Modesto. Dad got a small apartment. After school was out, Dad came back down with his van, and took another load. This time, my brother, Jeff, also went up with him. So, now dad and Jeff were living in Portland. My sister (Jodi), my Mom, and I stayed in Modesto, along with the dog, and cat, too! Mom had stopped going to Portland to look for housing, and left it up to Dad. Meanwhile, it seemed our house was not going to sell. They insisted we would live like this until the house sold. Jodi and I were not unhappy about this, because it was peaceful. For many years, it had seemed Mom and Dad were heading for divorce. Jeff was a holy-terror, and this was the first time in years it was peaceful at home.

We packed as much of the house as we could, while still leaving enough out to live in it. After many more months, Dad had not yet found a house in Portland, and our California home was not selling, either. Mom finally got a new realtor with the hopes of actually selling before the upcoming school-year started again. She wanted to get us moved, and start fresh at the new school at the beginning, not in the middle.

Once mid-August came around, it looked as though we were not going to move. Mom and Dad would stay separated. Jeff would stay in Portland with Dad, and the rest of us would not move. Jodi and I got registered at the schools in Modesto, thinking we were going to stay. Then it was time for my already scheduled summer camp. Mom drove me to San Jose so I could catch the camp-bus at the YMCA we belonged to. I went off to camp, and expected that next week when I returned, Mom would pick me up, and then it would only be another week until school started.

I was completely unaware of what was happening the week I was at camp. (I was at camp. That meant no worries.) Once the camp bus returned to The Y, Mom was not there. Instead, I was picked-up by my Grandma. She took me to her house without any word of what was happening. She was calm, smiling, and that gave me all the reassurance that nothing was wrong. It was not uncommon to spend time at Grandma’s. I just thought Mom would meet me there. No worries, right? That night at dinner, Grandpa gave me an envelope with a one-way ticket to Portland. Once I had looked at the ticket, Grandma had on her best smile, and said “Surprise! Your family moved out of state while you were at summer camp!” This was not good. My mind was going a million directions. (I already posted the full details of what happened in this blog: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html )So, how did all this suddenly turn upside-down for me? What Happened?

My Dad and Jeff were out driving, looking for housing. They stopped at a garage sale, where they noticed a sign stating the house was for sale. (it was a small “for sale” sign stapled to the house.) My dad joking said he would buy the house. Turns out the joke was on him! The house was already vacant because the owners had to move to Texas. It was left for the neighbors to take care-of. They decided to use the empty garage for a garage sale. They got Dad in touch with the owner, and the sale was almost immediate, because they needed to get it sold.
At the same time that Dad was buying this house, our new realtor in California found a buyer for our house. That new buyer wanted to get in right away, so made Mom an offer she could not refuse. So, while Dad was buying a house without even talking to Mom about it, Mom was selling our house with ever talking to him about it! They flew Jeff back down to Modesto to help with all the last-minute stuff. They hired a moving company to come load all our stuff into a big moving truck, and drive it to our new home in Portland. They arranged to have Grandma and Grandpa get me on a plane to Portland.

So I went from camp, to Grandma’s, then put on a plane from San Jose to Portland. On the way to the airport, Grandma informed me that Dad would be meeting me at the Portland airport. Mom, Jeff, Jodi, the cat, and a large dog were driving to Portland. While in the plane, I often looked at all the tiny cars below to see if I could spot Mom’s little yellow car. I really could not imagine that any of them in the car were happy right now. All of them, plus their luggage were crammed into Mom’s 1976 Datsun F-10 hatchback. Those are tiny little cars, and that seems like a long drive, especially with My brother, and the pets in there. That, at least, made me glad I was flying. But at that moment, it was about the only happy thing I knew. My world had just been twisted, and turned in way too many ways to be happy about. I did not get to say goodbye to anyone in Modesto, or even know if all my stuff was packed, and being moved. I went to camp without a care in the world. The only thing I knew was that I had now had a new home.

“Welcome to Portland, Oregon.”
Dad greeted me at the gate with a hand-shake and a big smile. (There was no hugging in our family… a handshake was all ya got.) We went to his van, and I asked for a map of Portland. I wanted to know all I could about my sudden new home. He told me our new address, and that was all I needed. It was south of Portland, so my first impression of Portland streets was upside-down. (maps are printed with north at the top, and I wanted to see the streets in the same direction we were traveling.) That day, I literally got a full-understanding of how Portland was laid-out. I love maps, and always look around at the surroundings. When we were about five miles from our new home, we stopped at a store. He pointed across the valley to the hill. That was where our home was. I could see the details on the map, plus in the land ahead of me, and had a great understanding of my new community layout. I got to tell him when, and where to turn. (He already knew where he was going, but this was good for me.) We went to our new house, and he already had a key, so we went in and scoped it all out. It was two-story, but from the street, it looked like one-story. I had never seen a house like this before. It was built in the hill, so the top-floor was actually at ground-level. That was the main floor of the house. It had the garage, living room, kitchen, dining room, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and lots of windows with the most wonderful view ever! We could even see Mt. Hood, and Mt. St. Helens! This was 1980, and it had just had the big eruption on May 18th of this year. Today, my first-ever view of it, there was a plume of steam-cloud. Awesome!! The house had a deck that wrapped around most of the backside, and overlooked the entire yard. Weird. We entered this house on the ground level, and this deck was high off the ground. Then we explored the downstairs of the house. It was a kind-of mystery-place to me. We entered on the ground-level, but went downstairs, and discovered more windows with views. Funny, the downstairs was underground, yet it was not. I still had to discover the way the hill was cut around the house. There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, a huge utility-room, a Really Giant all-purpose room, a furnace room, and a hidden place under the stairs! We went out the sliding-door to explore the back yard. It was Huge!

Then Dad explained that we won’t be moving-in until the moving-van arrives in a few more days. He told me Mom, Jeff, Jodi, and the animals were taking the slow-drive, and stopping along the way, so they could relax some, and we all would not all be crammed into his tiny apartment. He took me to see his work, and meet his coworkers, then to his apartment. I got to relax at his apartment for a couple of days. He worked. Then Mom, Jeff, Jodi, and The Pets all arrived. Our moving van got delayed, and for some reason we could not go into our new house, yet. So ALL of us, plus the pets had to cram into Dad’s tiny apartment. That was a horrible two days. When our moving-van was finally going to arrive the next day, we loaded everything up in Dad’s van to go to our new home. It took a couple of trips. We stayed the night in our new home.

The morning our Movers were going to arrive, We walked down the hill to Elmer’s for breakfast. Then as we walked back up the hill, we met the movers, and they backed-down our culdesac street to be set to unload. NOW I Was Getting Excited! Finally. We watched anxiously as each item was unloaded. It was tedious. There was an inventory check-list. Every single item was stickered with a number, and we had to check-off each item as it came off. That became my job, partly because I had not gotten to see everything get loaded, and because I would not let a single thing get past me without verifying the number, and checking it off the list. I Kept every single sticker. I watched eagerly as each item was unloaded. I Knew what I had left behind, and I watched, and looked for every single item that was supposed to be in our new home, too. It was chaotic, as the movers were directed by Mom and Dad for where each item went in the house. I was amazed at how they had built crates out of wood around many of our items. Yay! Free wood for me! I could build a fort!! As more and more items came off the truck, I watched. I kept track. So far, it seemed that in fact everything did make it to Oregon. This was good for me to be able to see. Of course, many of my own things were boxed, and I had no idea, yet, about those. I decided that I was gathering too many stickers to hold onto, so I dedcided that the freezer in the garage was an ideal place to line them up. It did not take long before that freezer was totally covered on all sides with neon-orange Allied-moving numbers. This amused me, but at the same time I already know the chore I had created, because I would eventually have to remove every one of those.

After the moving van left, we walked down the hill, to register for our new school, which was starting the very next day. I was starting 7th grade. Jeff was starting 8th grade. We were going to be at the same junior high, and I was already hating that idea. Jodi was lucky. She was starting the 6th grade, at the school behind the junior high. She at least was starting where she would be welcomed before going on to junior high. I was starting junior high where four other schools came into. This meant that not only would I be a new kid, but everyone else would already have their groups from the school they had just come from, and I would be excluded from all of those. This sucked. A new home, new school, new people, new neighbors, all so sudden! School started only one day after we got here, and I did not know a thing about my world.

After registering for school, I went home to start unpacking. Life was about to get turned upside-down in a real big way!

Welcome to Portland, Oregon.

(This move turned-out to be one of many that would become a pattern in my life. This move set into motion what would be so many life-altering changes. Some of the changes have been positive, but not all of them. I strive to find positive in life, but often struggle to do so. It has not been uncommon from this point forward to make some disastrous decisions in my life choices. It also has not been uncommon since this event to just suddenly up-and-move. To leave life as I knew it behind, to start all-over again. At this point, I was only twelve, and this was my third time moving. By the age of forty, I had moved 42 times. I am now 43, and I have not counted recently how many times I have moved, but it is a Lot. Too Many. I will post more as time moves on.)

 Some may ask why I am even posting these at all. I write, and post them mostly for my own benefit. I have felt an urging to use creative expressionism to write-out some of my life-events. ( I often see people that are shocked by writings left behind by a someone who has died. I chuckle, and think Those writings are not that shocking compared to some of my own thoughts. With this on my mind, I created my blog. If anyone reads, and gets anything out of my writings, then that is why. If anyone understands what makes me tick just a little better, or finds something that could help themselves,or someone they care about, then that is why. Many of my life-events I have attempted to seek answers, and understanding from my own family. Perhaps some of my own family will see something that helps either myself, or helps them. Even if nobody ever reads any of my writings, At least I am getting them written, and available for those who may at some point decide to see what they are all about.

I hope you have a Safe, And Wonderful Day! JOn ~=:-)

Thursday, September 1, 2011

“Surprise! Your Family Moved Out of State While You Were at Summer Camp!”

I was 12. That was the phrase that would become the beginning of my world turned completely upside-down! Life was about to get difficult.


Summer Camp was always a Big Event in my life. I always came home with wonderful stories, memories, and new friends. But in the summer of 1980, the events that happened at home, while I was away at camp took away whatever joys, thrills, memories, and stories I might otherwise have carried forward from camp.

I do not recall Any of the details of that camp. I do not remember the place, the adventures, or even the friends I got to spend what would turn out to be the very last time I got to spend with them.

What I do recall is that when the camp bus returned us to The YMCA in Cupertino, California, There was nobody there to pick me up. This was not normal. Someone was always there to greet me when I got back. Even when Dad was on the same bus, as a camp-counselor, Mom always was there to greet us when we returned. And when he was not at camp with me, He, or Mom, or often Both would be there when the bus returned. I had been going to that same YMCA for my whole life. My whole family was known, and part of this tight-knit community. So, this time, when nobody was there to greet me, even the other parents, staff, and fellow campers were left wondering what had happened. We used to live just a few miles from The Y, but two years before this, we had moved to Modesto, which was 90 miles away. Because of this, none of the community was aware of what was always happening in our family any more.

This was long before cell-phones, so waiting was about all one could do. I waited, and watched as the other kids got happily greeted, told their stories, said their goodbyes, and left. I waited, and wondered. Nobody was terribly concerned, or worried. We were just waiting, and wondering.

After what seemed like forever, My Grandma showed up. She was dressed in her country-club best, and it would appear she had just left an important event. The country club was her Glamour Court. She was dressed immaculately, wearing pearls, heels, and a smile that said she was in charge, but everything was OK. It was clear that This was not a hurried decision for her to come and get me, but that she needed to finish her other business before coming here. As she approached, My mind went a million different directions.

-She was smiling, and walking confidently. That meant everything was OK.

-She is the one who was scheduled to pick me up, but I did not know why.

-Where is Mom?

-She is always on time, so her country club event must have run long.

All this was in just the few seconds it took her to walk to me. She also was well-known at The Y, so we all knew this was OK. She was all business, and never offered more than was needed in mixed company. She greeted me, and asked some about camp, then asked if I was ready to go. She never said a thing about what was happening that would keep anyone else from picking me up.

I knew the roads well, and could tell we were heading to her house. That made me really happy! I Always Loved going to Grandma, and Grandpa’s house! I convinced myself that for some reason Mom was there, too, and they thought it would be fun to have Gramma come and get me, then bring me back to enjoy the night there. That made sense to me. It was not unusual to spend time at Gramma’s. Mom’s car was not in the driveway, but Gramma never once looked as something was wrong, so I was ok with that. I just went and did what I always did at Gramma’s. At that age, and most of my childhood, Grandma and Grandpa’s house was ALWAYS safe, fun, and very relaxing.

I drank a Coke. Gramma always bought cans of Coke when she knew we were coming over. This was a treat, because at home, we had to split one can between three of us. Here, we got our own full can! I ate a banana, and Triscuits. She Always had fresh bananas, and the Triscuits were considered the Good crackers that we never had at home.

Then I went swimming. Yay! Skinny Dipping at Gramma’s! This is also a treat! (The only time we could be nekkid was when Mom was not there. But that is a whole story in itself, and I will tell that in another post. ) I spent the rest of the afternoon, and evening naked, swimming, and enjoying the sunshine, in what would turn out to be The Very Last Time I got to have that Joy. I Had absolutely no clue what was coming that would rock my world!

When Grandpa came home, we played pool, watched his favorite news program on TV, and ate dinner. I always loved having dinner with Grandma, and Grandpa! While eating, Grampa broke the news about why nobody else had been there to pick me up by handing me an envelope which contained an airline ticket to fly from San Jose, Ca to Portland, Oregon the next morning. Grandma said, with a big smile, “Surprise! Your Family Moved Out of State While You Were at Summer Camp!” They were both quite pleased with how they presented this, and found it to be quite amusing.

My mind was going berserk. I had so many questions, concerns, and things I just did not know! But Gramma and Grampa were confident, calm, and happy. They had no trouble showing me that everything was alright. I knew from them, that everything was OK, but I still had hundreds of questions. How? Why? What happened? Where is my new home? Where am I going to go to school? What about all my friends, here? What about all my things? Did my room get packed, and moved? What about my bike? What happened to all my treasures, and junk? So many more questions. The only thing I knew for sure was that right now I was safe. Grandma and Grandpa are calm, happy, peaceful, and convinced me it was all OK.

We finished dinner, and I helped clean up, while Grampa went to smoke his pipe, and and watch his favorite golf Highlights show on TV. I Loved the smell of Grampa’s pipe! Later, they took me to Baskin Robbins Ice Cream for dessert. We came back to their house, and played some pool, and went through every single one of Grampa’s magic tricks he kept in his bar. I picked-up every single item in their house that ever meant anything to me. I looked at every single item on every single shelf, and in every drawer. This was the very last time I would get to experience as a kid at their house.

I was happy, sad, excited, and confused. There was so much going through my mind. Grampa settled down in front of the TV for his usual night-time programs, and would soon doze off. At this time, I would usually go out and swim one more time before bed. Grandma would usually do some of her office work, some laundry, and then head out for her nightly snail-removal patrol through her garden. I Always enjoyed being naked at Gramma’s, and did so as often as I could. I went out, and instead of swimming, I just lay there naked on the soft clover lawn, and watched the stars. After a while, I went around the front of the house to go climb my tree. I was still naked. Occasionally we went out in the front yard naked, but not very often. Nobody in her neighborhood ever thought twice about seeing one of us kids, or one of their own outside naked. It was not a concern, just a freedom. I climbed all the way to the very top of The Best Tree I had in all my life! This tree towered higher than even the second-story of the neighboring houses. From here, you could see every street in all directions, and every house, and every back yard, too. Most people left their curtains open, and there was never any shame, or feeling of the need to hide behind closed drapes. Here, you never saw anything unusual, because it was all common, and we saw it all the time. To me, it was daily life. People did that without shame, or the need of hiding. I watched the neighborhood as people did their normal nightly things. I marveled at how all these people had stable, normal lives, and while my world was taking twists and turns, the rest of the world went on in a calm, peaceful way. After dark is when most would enjoy the yards, and gardens without the heat of the day. People watered their lawns, their flowers, and their gardens. It was not unusual to see people in their yards doing these things naked. They never looked around to see if anyone was watching, because this was just normal daily life to them. People put their kids to bed. People took out the trash. People took one last swim before bed. Gramma went out and did her normal nightly gardening, watering, and snail-patrol. I wondered what she would think if she discovered I was up here naked, and not in bed. I did not worry, but I just wondered, because I had never climbed the tree nekkid, and seldom climbed up here late at night. As she made her rounds across the front of the house, she paused below the tree, looked up, and smiled. I wondered if she would know I was up here, or was just smiling at the fact that this was my tree, and she often saw me climbing it. After a while, I saw her go for her nightly swim before bed. She, too, always skinny dipped. That meant she had already rousted Grampa from sleep in his chair in front of the TV, and she would be heading to bed after her swim. Normally after her swim, she would go inside through her bedroom door, still dripping, letting herself air-dry. She would usually go and transfer one more load of laundry, put on a fresh nightgown, and go to bed.

After she finished her swim, instead of going into the house, she came around the front, to the base of my tree. She had a huge grin on her face, when she looked up at me in the very top, and said “Are you going to stay up there naked, all night, or do I have to drag you down?” I laughed. She Never went out front naked. (not that her neighbors had never seen her naked, it was just that she kept it to the back yard.) I told her I would not make her drag me down. She offered me one of her massages to make me sleep soundly if I was down, had my teeth brushed, and was in bed in five minutes. That was all the further urging I needed. On the way down, I asked how she knew I was up there. She smiled, and said “Grandma’s have magical powers.” That caused the neighbor who was just out of my view to laugh. I realized Connie, the neighbor had told Gramma I was up there, but that she probably would have figured it out on her own, too. Once I was down, Connie came and gave me a big hug, and said “Have a good flight, tomorrow! Get some rest.” I wondered how long Connie had been out there.

I hurried inside and got ready for bed. Gramma stayed and chatted with Connie until I was in bed. She came and gave me the promised massage, and I was out-cold, and slept solid until morning. (Gramma’s massages were magical, and I learned how to give the same magical massages from a childhood of having received them myself.

I woke to the wonderful smell of bacon. I knew I had just enough time for a shower before breakfast was ready. I enjoyed one last shower, the very last time as a care-free kid in my favorite bathroom! I was scheduled to fly out in a few hours. When I got out of the shower, I was pleasantly surprised to find that sometime during the night, she had washed all my dirty camp clothes. I expected that I would have to wear old, dirty clothes to fly to Oregon. They were all folded and stacked on the bed I had vacated just minutes before!

We ate breakfast. We always had cranberry juice, eggs, bacon, bananas, and English muffins with fresh jam. Anyone who has ever had my eggs, can thank my grandma for teaching me how to make perfect eggs! Grandma, Grandpa, and I shared the comics, and shared laughs over breakfast. Then it was time to go. I packed my duffel-bag, and Grandma took me to the airport, bought more film for my camera, and made sure I had snacks. She told me my Dad was going to pick me up at the airport in Portland, and that my mom, brother, sister, dog, and cat were all driving up. Then I boarded the plane.

So, here I was, 12 years old, on a plane to Oregon. My only possessions were in a duffel bag from the last week at camp. I knew that in a couple hours, I would be landing in Portland, Oregon. I Knew I had just left behind everything. I knew I had just said goodbye to my childhood. I knew I left behind all I ever knew. Everything I had in life. My friends, freedom, community, and almost everything that I ever knew was now gone. I Knew that having spent my last night as a kid totally naked was significant. I knew that Gramma did not come out front nekkid for just anybody. I also Knew there was no way Grandma would actually climb the tree at all, let alone while naked, but it was perfect, and very fitting that she threatened to do that. She always managed to find ways to connect with me when most others in my life could not. I knew life was about to change. I remember the pilot announcing when we crossed the California state line into Oregon. Just like that. I was a Californian. Now I am an Oregonian. I remember looking at the tiny roads below to see if I could find Mom’s car.

In what seemed like no time at all, the pilot announced we were coming in for our landing at Portland. I could not get enough of the views out the window. I wanted to learn all about my new home. I wanted to see where I would be making my new life. We came in along the Columbia River Gorge. I was absolutely amazed at the beauty I was seeing in Oregon! I knew that no matter what else came at me, there was always My wonderful Nature to escape to! As the plane landed, it appeared it was going to land in the water of The Columbia River. There were people in boats, and waterskiing, and enjoying the last of summer. Then the runway met us at the edge of the river, and we landed.

My head began to go a million directions at once again. I could not have asked for a better ending to my childhood as I knew it. Last night at Gramma and Grampa’s seemed almost like it was precisely planned. While it was filled with so many emotions, and uncertainties, It was absolutely the very best way I could spend the very last night of my childhood, and the beginning of a brand-new part of my life. I was still amazed that I was Now In Oregon, when less than a day ago, I was a carefree kid in California at summer camp.

“Welcome To Portland, Oregon.” That was the announcement the pilot made as they opened the door for us to leave the plane.

Welcome to Oregon. You just left your childhood in California.

Your World just got turned upside down, and life will never be the same.

( Sept, 5, 2011 update: I just posted the follow-up to this story, detailing all of what happened to make my family move out of state while I was at camp. You can view that blog post, titled "welcome to Portland,Oregon", here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/to-portland-oregon.html )