Family
Stories about my parents, siblings, children, and extended relatives
My Dad Led a Busy Life
My mom told me after my dad passed away that all he ever wanted to do in life was play his violin in a good, large orchestra. Well, after he and the family moved to Portland, Oregon, he got his chance and didn’t miss it. [Read full article]
Master Pie Makers
My Grandmother, my mom, and my Aunt Rosemary were master pie makers. They usually made theirs with yellow delicious apples and occasionally with Gravensteins. I liked the latter better but they had a short season since they didn’t keep well. They also made wonderful applesauce. My two sisters, my son, my two daughters, and I have carried on the tradition. There is a lot of sibling rivalry about whose is best, but theirs aren’t quite up to par with mine. [Read full article]
Kris’ Big Wheel
In about 1975, Kris got a Big Wheel. It was a plastic “trike” with a large front wheel and two small rear wheels, a low seat, and high, wide handle bars. At that time our Painted Hills house had a 10’ X 12’ deck at the front door, a 5’ wide deck along the west side, and an 8’ wide deck 2/3 of the way across the north side. They were all on the same level and connected to each other. [Read full article]
My dad
My dad was born in August of 1913 in Butte, Montana where his dad was working in the mines. He was the fourth of nine children, seven boys and two girls. The family moved from Butte to Cumberland, Washington, and then to Aberdeen, Washington where he finished high school. During the years in Aberdeen, he lived an adventurous life exploring, fishing, hunting for arrowheads, and generally living a great boy life outdoors. [Read full article]
John Newbill, 1883-1966
I remember sitting around the campfire beside the Little Naches River with extend family listening to embellished stories that my mother’s Uncle, John Newbill, would tell of his adventures growing up on a northeastern Oregon ranch. He was known by my family members as a “rootin’ tootin’” cowboy. [Read full story]
Saying Goodbye to My Grandparents’ Table…Sort Of
Some of my fondest family memories involve my grandparents’ dining table. It was the place of family communion….a place of breaking bread, quiet contemplation, and raucous good times. It is somewhat ironic that such a symbol started with my grandmother, Eva, being angry after receiving the gift of that table from my grandfather’s sister, Lona. [Read full article]
Growing Up in St. Johns in Portland, Oregon
When my parents moved their young family to Portland in 1947, they rented one of these houses on N. Stanford St. near the University of Portland. As I vaguely remember, it was maybe 700 square feet in size, had two bedrooms, a tiny living room, a small kitchen with a wood stove, and a miniscule bathroom next to the living room. [Read full article]
Long Ago
Buttered hardtack, sometimes with cheese or maybe some lunch meat. For a little variety, generously spread with peanut butter. I don’t remember when I started eating hardtack but I’m sure it was because of seeing my dad eating it or sharing some with me. [Read full article]
My Dad’s Beeper
I think it was sometime in the late 1960s dad purchased a White’s Metal Detector. I’m not certain but I think he got the idea from Max Byam. He called it his “beeper” because of the sound it made in his headphones whenever the scanner passed over a metal object of up to about 8 inches below the ground surface. [Read full article]
Kenkaiyala.com 