I just saw an article about a child's earliest memories and it got me thinking. I can't actually date my earliest memory for sure. I have various memories such as climbing the stairs to my dad's parents walkup in Brooklyn or my mother's parents summer home, both of which were out of the picture long before I was 4, but I really don't know how old I was. Same for a funeral or an unveiling (Jews have a little ceremony about a year after death dedicating the gravestone) that all could have happened before the memories I am certain of.
So, my earliest memory that I can date is from November or December 1970. I'm in my mother's car, at night, age 2 1/2. I was in the front seat, we were entering the Belt Parkway east at Flatbush Ave (NYC) and had just picked up my new puppy and were on the on the way home. The car was a 1965 Ford Falcon, white exterior with a red strip and red interior. Beautiful car.
Next earliest is about 5 months later, around my 3rd birthday and is much more clearer. Same car, cloudy day, late winter or early spring, we stopped for traffic on the LIE, the UPS truck behind us did not. I went flying into the front seat (pre-seat belts, 2 door car so when we were hit I went forward and pushed the seat onto my younger sister). My 8 month or so old baby brother was in his carriage (top came off, bottom with wheels in trunk) on the back seat next to me and slept through the initial accident. I remember the rear view mirror was hanging weird as my mother, after making sure we were all ok, threw the car into park. She was mad. She got out of the car, put the hood up and smoke poured out of the engine (just fluids, no fire). That seemed to set her off and as the UPS driver rounded the driver's side to speak to my mother she lit into him and started yelling him.
And I mean YELLING. I had never seen her so angry before (she later said the driver had turned white realizing he hit a car with a pregnant woman and three children under 3). She ripped him a new one. I'm sure I heard words from her I never heard before but my brother's crying (my sister and I had woken him up) drowned it out. The next hour or two are a blur but I remember being towed home and thinking that was neat.
The car, which actually held up pretty well after the crash, was wrecked after that (not much body damage but the frame was cracked -- my dad said that was how cars were made then, or at least that model). That was the last cool looking car my parents ever had. After that it was all huge, tank like family sedans. Today, I don't know if my car would hold up so well against a UPS truck, my wife's Civic certainly wouldn't. And an unbelted 3 year old in the back, an unbelted 2 year old in the front and an infant not in car seat would earn my mother all sorts of traffic tickets and probably a call from child protection.
The funniest memory I have from my early childhood though occurred a few years later, in the spring or summer of 1974. I was convinced President Nixon was going to climb up the fire escape to break into our apartment to steal our scotch tape. It took my parents awhile to convince me otherwise.
So, my earliest memory that I can date is from November or December 1970. I'm in my mother's car, at night, age 2 1/2. I was in the front seat, we were entering the Belt Parkway east at Flatbush Ave (NYC) and had just picked up my new puppy and were on the on the way home. The car was a 1965 Ford Falcon, white exterior with a red strip and red interior. Beautiful car.
Next earliest is about 5 months later, around my 3rd birthday and is much more clearer. Same car, cloudy day, late winter or early spring, we stopped for traffic on the LIE, the UPS truck behind us did not. I went flying into the front seat (pre-seat belts, 2 door car so when we were hit I went forward and pushed the seat onto my younger sister). My 8 month or so old baby brother was in his carriage (top came off, bottom with wheels in trunk) on the back seat next to me and slept through the initial accident. I remember the rear view mirror was hanging weird as my mother, after making sure we were all ok, threw the car into park. She was mad. She got out of the car, put the hood up and smoke poured out of the engine (just fluids, no fire). That seemed to set her off and as the UPS driver rounded the driver's side to speak to my mother she lit into him and started yelling him.
And I mean YELLING. I had never seen her so angry before (she later said the driver had turned white realizing he hit a car with a pregnant woman and three children under 3). She ripped him a new one. I'm sure I heard words from her I never heard before but my brother's crying (my sister and I had woken him up) drowned it out. The next hour or two are a blur but I remember being towed home and thinking that was neat.
The car, which actually held up pretty well after the crash, was wrecked after that (not much body damage but the frame was cracked -- my dad said that was how cars were made then, or at least that model). That was the last cool looking car my parents ever had. After that it was all huge, tank like family sedans. Today, I don't know if my car would hold up so well against a UPS truck, my wife's Civic certainly wouldn't. And an unbelted 3 year old in the back, an unbelted 2 year old in the front and an infant not in car seat would earn my mother all sorts of traffic tickets and probably a call from child protection.
The funniest memory I have from my early childhood though occurred a few years later, in the spring or summer of 1974. I was convinced President Nixon was going to climb up the fire escape to break into our apartment to steal our scotch tape. It took my parents awhile to convince me otherwise.
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