Barbers Point, Oahu, Hawaii 1958
October 1957 • San Jose to the Islands ~ A year and a month into Bobby and Claudia’s marriage, Bobby was transferred to Barbers Point, a naval air station about 20 minutes from Honolulu. My mother got the notion that she and I would move there too. Mom wanted to be near Claudia, she and Ray had just divorced, and as she was not concerned about what would happen to Betty, we followed in their wake. Mother had to get permission from Dad to take me out of the state, but as Dad’s new wife had no interest in sharing him, it was prudent for him to acquiesce. It worked out quite well for Irene, and also took the heat off Dad with no longer having to choose between her and his children.
Mom proclaimed we were going to live in paradise, so a month into my fourth-grade year—while the world still moved at an unhurried pace, when it took eight hours to fly on a Jumbo DC6, and before it was a state—we moved to the island of Oahu.
She left most of our things in storage with a neighbor: her five-piece 1930s semi-Deco waterfall bedroom furniture, her sofa-bed, her yellow Formica kitchen table and chairs, the Philco, her good dishes and kitchenware, and just about everything else she ever owned. She wouldn’t need her satin shoes, velvet stole, or green wool coat in the tropics. We only took what clothes we could fit in four suitcases and a steamer trunk along with her heavy cast-iron pans, her metal meat grinder, her box of family pictures, button collection, sewing box, black and gold portable Singer, and her mother’s round English Deco mirror.
She only let me bring the things I couldn’t live without; my two Little Women dolls that had belonged to my sisters, my two-dollar-bills from Daddy, my dollar Silver Certificate, stamp and coin collections, and the Johnny Tremain book Larry gave me when I was seven. It was his when he was my age.
I parted with the rest of my things. Mom promised we’d get them when we moved back: the toys and family of Storybook Dolls along with all their clothes, shoes, and accessories I’d shoplifted over the past year; my Betsy McCall paper dolls, my marble collection, bubble-gum cards, Archie comics, portable record player and record collection of two. “You’ll live without them,” she assured me.
I was most nervous parting with my library card, my school report cards, and my savings passbook. What if they got lost? What if I never got them back? How would I know who I was?
to be continued…
© 2018. Catherine Sevenau.
All rights reserved.
Deborah says
Oh wow. I so feel your heartbreak at leaving behind precious things, which reminded me of things I have not wanted to leave behind, thinking I would someday soon be able to reclaim them, but someday never came. How you were able to get through all of this insanity I do not know, but it gave you exceptional strength, and from which I am very truly encouraged and inspired.
mini kelly says
You poor little girl. Heartbreaking.
Catherine Sevenau says
I suppose I was a bit if a waif.
Janet Sasaki says
So, where did your mother live, did she find work, how long was she there?
Catherine Sevenau says
Patience grasshopper, there are chapters to come.
Susan Dalberg says
Until I left home, anytime we moved, I had one small suitcase I could take. Nothing else I had was important apparently. Wish they had left me home and taken the suitcase!!! Heart tug here honey.
Barbara Jacobsen says
I had Storybook Dolls too, but they stopped giving them to me when they discovered I took off all their clothes and hair to replace with scraps from my mother’s dressmaker’s floor. And Archie & Veronica… inspirations for lots of my drawings. And my marble collection with index cards for each one with their names and colored illustrations! My mother gave the whole thing away to a neighbor kid when I went off to college. I hope you got your treasures back!
Catherine Sevenau says
I didn’t get them back. I took the dolls with me so I still have them; they’re in the picture.