HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHARLIE!

May 30, 2017 | 1 comment

Charlie’s First Picture

My son, Charles Morgan Howell IV, arrived on May 30, 1956, 7:44 a.m. – special delivery at Sequoia Hospital in Redwood City, California, Dr. Verne Voakes in attendance.  He weighed eight pounds which was considered ‘whopping’ since I weighed scarcely ten times as much – 90, soaking wet, as I remember.  It was a Wednesday and it was a holiday because, back then, Memorial Day was always celebrated on the 30th.  None of this last-Monday-of-May business.

According to his Baby Book – filled in spasmodically at best – Charlie’s first big trip was on June 24, 1957 “to Oysterville, Wash, for 2 weeks – home of family for 5 generations.”  I remember that we stayed across the street in what would later become known as ‘the little red cottage.’  I think we spent a lot of time in the family house where my Aunt Mona was caring for “Papa,” my 81-year-old grandfather, Harry Espy.  He was suffering from dementia and it was thought that it would cause him less stress if we stayed elsewhere.  (Were we so raucous?  I don’t recall…)

Charlie’s Birth Announcement

I don’t remember much about that visit except that there was no plumbing to speak of at the cottage.  There was a pitcher pump at the kitchen sink – probably the reason we ate most meals with Mona and Papa.  And there was a chemical toilet in the ‘bathroom.’  I have no memory of how I handled the diaper situation except for knowing that it was long before the advent of paper diapers.  It was the days of cloth-and-dump-and-sterilize-and-wash-and-hang-on-the-line-to-dry.

My only other memory of that trip is of Papa’s delight at holding his great-grandson for a photograph.  He actually chuckled as Charlie reached up to tug at his whiskers and I remember thinking what a familiar feeling that must have been to this father of seven, grandfather of eight, and great-grandfather of two.  I wonder what ever happened to that picture.

Charlie’s First Home in Belmont, California

It’s hard to believe that I’m now the age that Papa was then and that Baby Charlie is more than three times the age I was when he was born!  On the other hand, the years have whooshed by, jam-packed with surprises and accomplishments and more laughter than you can shake a stick at (as my folks were fond of saying).  I’ve been the recipient of grander bragging rights than I could ever have imagined when I first looked at that little tow-headed bundle!  Thanks for all of it, Charlie!  And let’s have lots more!

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