My Childhood Memories

By Penny Syx Hemmer

I was born on June 12, 1947 in Akron, Ohio.  My Mom was an Allen County, Indiana Halter, born in 1915, named Lillian Bernice, the second daughter of Ed and Edna Halter of Cedarville.  Dad was Roy L Syx.  He was the eleventh of twelve, also born in 1915, in Wylam, Alabama, an older, area of Birmingham that was settled in the mid-1800s.  Today, the Wylam area is very rundown and unkempt now.   Dad's parents, John and Olive Syx were not originally from Alabama.  Both were born in southern Ohio.  They relocated to Alabama in the late 1800s, in search of possible mining jobs, but that is another story.

My earliest memories are pretty vivid.  We enjoyed lots of great get-togethers with family, especially Aunt Hazel (Halter) and Uncle Luke Wheatley and their daughters Jean and Sis (Evelyn), my very first-known cousins.  They lived on Marion Place in the city of Akron, Ohio right on the edge of Lincoln Elementary School playground. Boy it was dirty on that playground.  I don't think we realized it then but all the rubber companies in Akron made for a stinky, dirty environment.  I'll NEVER forget the smell of all those rubber factories.

My Mom, Dad and I lived out in the "country" in a rural area south of Akron, called Manchester, Ohio.  At such a young age, it seemed like a very long journey into Akron to visit the Wheatley folks.  But it was always fun and entertaining.  As I think back, it seems like we went often, maybe almost every weekend.  I do recall that Aunt Hazel and the family baby sat me often so that my parents could take care of other things.....?!?!?

 

Our House on Center Road in Manchester

Time spent at home on Center Road is full of memories of playing in the back yard, building snowmen with my Dad, swinging on my swing set and playing in the sand box.  Before I started kinder garden, I met another little girl who lived up the road, named Jayne Hinton.  We became good buddies.  Eventually, Jayne's family moved from their house on Center Road up to the corner at Manchester Road.  They lived up above the filling station/grocery store and began running that business. Sometimes we were even allowed to play downstairs in the store.  Together, Jayne and I often explored the area behind our land where Christmas trees were planted to sell at Christmas by our neighbors, the Groves. The Groves were sweet people as I recall.  They also had plum, pear and crab apple trees out back that we loved to climb.  The Groves had two children, a daughter names Joanne and a son named Marvin.  I remember Marvin loved the soap box derby and it seemed like he was always either working on his car in the basement or practicing racing down the hill between our houses.  The Grove kids were both older than me so I just saw them out in our yards, but I remember that I really liked them so much.   Joanne, being a bit older, got acquainted with Jean and Sis Wheatley and became friends with them too.

This Syx family lived in a two bedroom green-shingled home with a bath, living room and kitchen on the main floor.  It sat on at least a half an acre or more of land with an area to plant a garden way at the back of the lot.  One very vivid recollection I have is of the basement under our home.  When the weather was cold outside, I often rode my tricycle down there while Mom did the laundry and hung it up to dry.  I would peddle furiously in and out of the sheets like I was on horseback.  One day I got even more adventurous.  I wanted to see what it was like for my "teddy bear" when I closed him in the old icebox-style refrigerator that was stored in the basement...... Yep.  I crawled in with my teddy and pulled the door closed behind me.  I'm not sure what happened next but I must have yelled for help.  I just remember my Mom being very upset (mad), me getting a stern talking too and the icebox was soon GONE!!!!

Now this basement for the most part was made of block and rock walls as I recall, but there was one part just by the steps up to the kitchen, that I think my mom used for cool storage for her canning.  It was not so finished and seemed to just be an area cut back into the dirt.  It was an interesting place, for sure.  Not so sealed up from the outdoors as I remember. That leads to the next exciting adventure we had at the house.  My Dad must have worked 2nd shift for Firestone back then as he seemed to be home more in the mornings but not so much in the evenings.  That meant there were many mornings when I woke early and scooted around into my parent’s bedroom to jump in bed with them.  On one Sunday morning, as I was making my way from my room to theirs, I looked into the living room (as I passed by the opening into that part of the house) and saw a startling site.  Sitting right in the middle of the living room just as proud as you please, was a big fat rat.  I didn't panic.  I calmly told them when I got on the bed...."there's a rat in the living room"!!!  Needless to say, they really didn't believe me.  But I insisted.  So Dad got up to check it out.  Sure enough....Mr. “Ratton” was chilling in the living room.  Dad wouldn't share the details with me about what happened next, but squeeky never came back to visit us after that.

In the meantime, I remember a lot about spending time in the city of Akron with the Wheatley's.  When I was real little, Sis used to ride me around in the basket on the front of her bike.  We went to movies often I think.  (It really hurt my butt when we went on and off curbs but it was still fun).  I remember lots of big thick bobby socks and long circle skirts, too.  There was always wonderful music in their house.  They loved broad way show music in particular.  I still have an interesting vision of a stop sign lying on the front porch on Marion Place. Cannot remember how old I was when that happened....  Jean and Sis are probably glad of that!

It may be hard to believe, but I swear I remember celebrating my first birthday in Aunt Hazel and Uncle Luke's backyard.  I have the most vivid memory of walking around the back yard before they brought out the cake. I was wearing a little tan dress with embroidery on the front.  It's just as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday. 

Uncle Luke used to sneak me candy a lot and that made EVERYONE mad, but he did it anyway.  I remembered a time when he still worked every day and got all cleaned up on Saturday in a fresh, crisply starched shirt.  I think he called it having his Saturday Bath!  Sadly, sometime later he was not so well and stayed home all the time.  (Guess who got more candy.  Uncle Luke and I were happy!!!  We lost Uncle Luke when I was six years old.  That was my first loss of an important member of my family.  I really missed him.)

I have fond memories of Aunt Hazel.  She spent many hours slaving over her little Singer Sewing Machine just outside the bathroom door in the house on Marion Place.  She sewed for everyone… she even made a wedding dress for one of my Syx cousins.  Aunt Hazel was really talented.  Hazel and my Mom both made all our dresses.  We were lucky to always have something nifty to wear.  

It seems that we went to Cedarville, Indiana to visit Grandma and Grandpa Halter and all the other aunts, uncles and cousins often, as well.  All the members of the Ed Halter family in Cedarville lived within a few blocks of the family home, way back then.  In the old days, if family did not move away, they lived very, very close to their home base.  Summers in Cedarville included playing in the park, swimming in the creek or water skiing at the dam/lake behind the church, bike riding and yummy trips to the frozen custard stand up on the main road.  If Grandpa brought home any fish from his fishing trips, I would always go out back to watch him clean his catch.   All of us visiting girl cousins would stay upstairs at Grandma's in the right front bedroom. It was hard to sleep though ‘cause Grandpa's snoring would wake up the dead!!!  He slept upstairs too.

For entertainment, we spent hours either playing the player piano downstairs or sewing on Grandma's treadle sewing machine at the top of the steps. Lots of great fun!  The EARLY sewing experiences were invaluable.  And Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's... absolutely the best!  All of us cousins were together for the holidays.  Loved it!!!

Well back to Akron.  I made it through kinder garden at Manchester Elementary with my friend Jayne.  We were in the same class, but then something major happened.  My Dad's job at Firestone took us out of the country.  First stop was Valencia, Venezuela.  Habla Espanol anyone?  Guess we had to learn fast.  Firestone was about to build a new tire factory in this little town south of Caracas.  We flew (for the first time) into Caracas and drove about 2 hour up and over the mountains into the little bowl that Valencia sat in.  It was a one year assignment.  Home was to be the Hotel Carabobo.  (Carabobo was the "county" that Valencia was in - it meant "funny face".)

  

Valencia, Venezuela

Our accommodation was a two bedroom "Suite".  No air conditioning, just un-screened open windows and a fan.  At night once the windows were opened to let in the air, the giant moths and bugs were attracted to the lights in the rooms.  The ceiling was soon covered with strange insect-y decorations.  Ewwwwww.   By morning, they would mostly be gone.  

We were one of seven American Firestone families staying in the hotel at that time.  Actually we were the first Americans to come to live in Valencia - period.  So we were an oddity for sure.   We ate almost every meal in the hotel dining room.  The food was decent....  even frog legs and snails were on the menu from time to time.  I liked the snails (sort of) but was not brave enough to try Kermie!  Every night after dinner we would all take a walk across the street to the town square.  In the center of the square was a statue of the liberator of Venezuela, Simon Bolivar.  He helped Venezuela gain their Independence from Spain in the early 1800s.  So we walked around and around Simon Bolivar every night showing our respect.

The first school I was enrolled in was held in a private home.  Most of the classes were taught in the garage.  No one spoke English so I started learning Spanish pronto.   I think my Mom was somewhat comfortable with me going there every day because another Firestone family, the MacAlonans, lived just across the street from the school.  But it was far from perfect so it didn't last long.

  

Next I was moved to a German private school called La Esperanza, I believe.  It was run by a very scary German Head Mistress.  No one spoke English there either except of course the Firestone family's kids from Akron.  We were all struggling to learn Spanish as all the classes were taught in Spanish.  It was challenging for sure.

For me, that lasted until we returned to Akron at the end of my Dad's assignment.

Things had gone so well for my Dad that Firestone asked him to return to Valencia for another 3 years.  Now it meant selling the house on Center Road, moving furniture overseas and buying a new car to ship down there also.  There were to be lots of big changes ahead.  At least we were going back to a place where we had established friendships. While in Akron for a short stay, I "got" to attend grade school at Manchester Elementary again for a short time but there was no Jayne Hinton in the class with me and I was NOT happy.  Let’s go back to Valencia where I know some of the kids, pleeeeeeeze!!!

By the time I was ready for 3rd Grade, the American companies that had all set up shop in Valencia joined together to form an "American" school to serve all the English speaking families living in the area.  They hired teachers from the U.S. and selected the Calvert System of education for the teachers to administer.  The Venezuelan Government allowed the school to be established with the understanding that half of the day would be taught in Spanish and half in English.   By this time Spanish was becoming pretty comfortable for most of the American kids that were to attend this school.  This was the 4th school I attended and where I completed fourth grade.  The school was aptly named Colegio International de Carabobo and it evolved from its beginnings in a private home setting to a large boarding campus that today provides college prep studies for students from all over South America wishing to attend college in the United States. The school is now a beautiful and well-maintained 19-acre campus, located at the base of a mountainous slope overlooking the city of Valencia and I have heard that now there is a branch campus in the capital city of Caracas as well.

  

Here is a photo taken on the front steps in about 1957, of the first group of students and their teachers. (Boy we were young.)  A few of the students whose fathers worked for Firestone are still in touch with each other to this day.  The compound where the original school was set up was called Montalban.  You can see the name to the right of the student.  It was mounted on the wall in black wrought iron.  A group of former students from CIC even have a reunion in the U.S. every other year.

When our furniture arrived in Valencia, the new home we had chosen was not finished being built yet, so we moved into an older Spanish style home in another neighborhood for a short time.  It was neat in lots of ways... but Dad always said he caught the huge cucarachas in the bathroom attempting to wear his false teeth at night.  It was wild.

Needless to say once our new home was ready we moved there quickly.  It was a two story modern style home with terrazzo floors on both levels.  It was roomy and just right for lots of large gatherings for meals and parties.  We added a big German Shepard named Jacque to the family.  He was a wonderful protector of the home which was needed at times there.  Our Valencia American friends became our extended "family" away from home.  We spent all our holidays and vacations together.  The kids were my substitute cousins.  Their parents became replacement aunts and uncles. Our friends were the MacAlonans, the Chesters, the Dickinsons, the Algeas, the Orrs, the Tryons and the Joyces.  Sorry to anyone I may have left out.  We had lots of fun and some very memorable times together. 

As I think back, the most amazing custom in Valencia that happened in conjunction with Carnival was the annual Water Throwing Day.  No one was safe.  It was one of those unique days when anyone that did not want to get wet just stayed home.  It’s always safer and dryer that way.   Well... you know how we Americans can be sometimes...  Not our custom!!!  So, my Dad and a couple of his Akronite coworkers decided they were not gonna worry about it, but to be on the safe side, they would travel to work together.  One of the guys came by to pick up my dad and then they went on up the street to pick up the other gent.  Pretty soon they were back to drop my Dad off because he was drenched and needed to change into dry clothes.  Don't know what they were thinking but they did not lock their car doors?!?!?   On the way to work they got trapped between other vehicles (I think it was a trap) and the car doors were all jerked open and buckets of water drenched them....Hee hee.  I remember laughing pretty hard.  Hey, a little water never hurt anyone.  Usually it is just a water balloon or two that gets ya'.  It was a harmless way to have some fun anyway.  I checked and they still celebrate Water Throwing Day even now.   It's all part of the 40 days of celebration that lead up to Easter in Catholic countries.

  

The final experience that was the topper from the assignment in Valencia, hit me about five months before we were due to return stateside.  I came down with viral hepatitis.  In fact three members of the Firestone group caught it.  We later found out that it was a result of being treated in the Firestone Plant Clinic.  The other young person that came down with it, like me received their Polio booster shot in the clinic.  The adult also received an injection in the clinic.  Well little did they know back then, normal sterilization of needles did not kill that virus.  That was during the time when needles and syringes were reused.  BUT  they had been used on locals that did not realize they were carriers of the virus so the sterilizers did not prevent it from being passed on.  One night I developed a bad stomach ache and turned yellow.  The doctor confined me to three months of bed rest and a strict diet of boiled chicken and cream of wheat.  Bleeeeehhhhh!  Boy, did I get 'sick' of all that bland stuff.  Oh and by the way, how do you keep an energetic fourth grader in bed all day?!?!?  I'm just saying.  I got better over time.  I'm still a carrier and cannot donate blood but at least syringes are all disposable now.  One thing I don't have to worry about. 

After four fun-filled years, we said goodbye to Valencia and headed back north to Akron, Ohio just in time to find out Dad was reassigned, this time to Manila in the Philippine Islands, one of the places he had been stationed during World War II.  By this time, my parents and Aunt Hazel had purchased a two story duplex on Copley Road.  Hazel and the girls were living on the second floor and the first floor unit was rented out.  We stayed on the second floor with them for a couple of months while preparations were made for our journey to the P.I., as they called it.  Glad it was a three bedroom duplex.  

Manila, Philippines

Soon we were on our way again.  The trip to the Philippines was quit an adventure.  After a long flight to the west coast, and a visit to see the Steve Allen show, we boarded an American Presidents Line ship, the President Cleveland, for a 21 day journey via Hawaii, Japan and Hongkong.  The first time to feel sea-sick was no fun but once we got farther away from the coast, it subsided as the voyage was not as rough.  Whewww!!!  Even back then there were lots of activities for the kids on board passenger ships, so it was a busy time.  The kids even put on a 'talent show'.  They asked me to do a Hula Dance.  I was scared to death.  I don't recall doing much with it other than wearing the costume and standing there nervous as a cow!!!  Yikes!!!

Again we were enjoying hotel life for a few months.  This one had a small pool and with the encouragement of the life guard, I learned how to swim finally.  It was about time.  It was mid 1957 so I had just turned 10 years old.  I remember that time well as the life guard loved Harry Belafonte music.  We hear lots of his great calypso tunes while at the pool.  The Philippines Hotel was not far from the center of Manila or the docks where the ships came in.  I used to spend hours at our window looking at the docks a day and night.  It was interesting to see all the different freight and cruise lines that stopped there.  I must have been dreaming of taking another trip somewhere.

Our furniture finally arrived and we found a great house in Makati City in San Lorenzo Village.  It was not far outside of Manila and fairly close to the American School.  There were lots of Americans living in Manila then and many school chums lived nearby.  Once I started school, I made friends with several kids whose parents were there with Firestone, but I made close friends with a girl in my class named Helen Yap.  She was Chinese but spoke English perfectly.  Her family lived in a compound not far from us.  Her Dad, Vincent Veloso Yap, owned the successful Umbrella Factory within the compound.  It was a great place to play.  I often spent the night there and we rode our bikes inside the compound and the factory on the weekends when the factory was shut down.  It was safe and secure as there was no traffic and no one to bother us.  Her parents were well off and it was a family business.  Several of her older brothers were married and also had homes inside the compound.  Helen and I kept in touch for a while after I left the P.I., but as life moved on we eventually lost touch.

(Years later my parents returned to Manila for a short time as a side assignment my Dad took while working in Bangkok, Thailand.  They contacted the Yaps and had dinner with Helen's Mom and a sister.  During their visit, they learned that Helen was married and living in Vancouver, BC.  In about 1987, I made a trip to Victoria on Vancouver Island, in the British Columbia area to visit an engineer from a day cruise lines that used to dock in Tampa, Florida.  While there, l we went to the phone company and looked in a phone book for Vancouver.  I did not know Helen's married name but found a Veloso Yap in the book and assumed it had to be a relative. I then called Veloso to find out he was Helen's nephew.  He was kind enough to help me reach her.  I got to see her once again for a short visit.  I rode the BC Ferry for an hour and 45 minutes over to Vancouver from Victoria one day.  Helen, her hubby Martin and their young son came to the ferry station to visit with me.  It was so sweet to see her again and meet her family.  I NEVER dreamed that I would ever see her again.) 

Several other memorable and entertaining things about living in Manila included ... spending time at the club my parents joined.  They loved the golfing and socializing.  I love the swimming, playing Marco Polo in the pool and the Sunday polo matches.  I loved horses as a kid so any chance to see some beautiful horses galloping across a field was heaven to me back then. 

  

The two year assignment flew by.  We made some new Firestone friends like the Elliotts who had a bunch of sons.  I also played with a girl my age from Massachusetts, Ellen Fogler.   The Foglers lived behind us on the next street over.  She taught me how to play kick-the-can, but never warned me not to do it with flip flops on.  I still have the scar on my left foot to prove it!   I think her dad was in Manila with the US Government.  We corresponded when we were stateside for a while.  Then I had a chance to visit her and her family on Cape Cod one summer long ago.  Still keep in touch with her a bit on Facebook.  She lives in Naples, Florida now.  Always fun the catch up with folks after lots of years. 

Trip back to the states was an unhappy adventure.  We flew to Hong Kong then caught a ship called the SS President Truman.  It was a shorter trip home than the voyage over.  That was for the best as our pet chocolate poodle Frenchy was on board with us.  He was a big strong boy as he was a standard poodle.  Sadly it was a very cold northern route that we sailed and he was not used to cold weather because he was born in the Philippines.  "Someone" was out cleaning the decks while Frenchy was tied outside his kennel getting some air one morning.  They figured it was alright to spray him down too.  Unfortunately he caught pneumonia and never made it back to the states.  He was buried at sea.  I remember being one sad little gal.

Once we reached San Francisco, California, the trip back to Akron, Ohio was another special experience.  Despite my Mom's protests, Dad had decided we should take a cross-country train ride so we could see all the states in between.  My Mom read a lot and it was funny that most of the great places we passed through were at night.  I think I slept through most of it.  I remember seeing the Great Salt Lake.  It seemed like we were crossing right over it.  We also went through some snow covered areas.  But - I really remember coming into Akron.  My Dad and I were sitting up in the glass topped dome car as we approached from the south.  When we saw the clock on the tower at Firestone, we knew were almost home.  It was a long two and a half days.  I don't think I appreciated it near as much then as I might today.  Hee hee hee.

Next stop - Mexico City, Mexico

Back in Akron again, it was time to find out what was next.  At first Portugal was mentioned.  Then all of a sudden Mexico City came up.  As it turned out, Dad was being asked to do a short 6 month assignment in Mexico City.  This stop we lived right in Mexico City in a tall apartment building.  That was all great until the power went off and the elevators did not work.  If I remember right we were on the 6th or 7th floor.  If anyone remembers our little miniature poodle, Fifi, she did not appreciate the climb up to the apartment so much either.  I attended another "American" School.  It was huge and I knew no one.  Since we were only there for about 6 months, it did not give much time for getting acquainted either.  So that was my first Junior High School experience with changing classes and thus began my 7th grade year.  But we survived and got to see some pretty cool sites like Inca and/or Aztec ruins and pyramids not to mention a day long "cruise" along canals adorned with flowers and lots of Mexican blankets in a town called Xochimilco.  We ate so much yummy "Mexican" food.   I can remember my Dad and a friend named Ed Joyce sweating til their shirts were soaked while eating hot stuffed green pepper.  Now that's HOT!

Lisbon, Portugal

Once we were out of Mexico, Firestone was in a huge hurry to get Dad over to Lisbon, Portugal.  So he flew ahead of my Mom and Me.  We lucked out.  We got to make our trip over to Europe on board a ship, again.  We flew into New York and boarded the Olympus of the Olympic Lines...one of the ships owned by Aristotle Onassis, but back then, who had heard of him.  This was no later than 1960, as best I can remember.  It was a rough crossing of the Atlantic and many of the passengers were seasick most of the way.  My mom and I had fun though.  We went all over the ship trying to find some friendly folks to hang out with.

Once in Portugal, we started off staying in a hotel in a town outside of Lisbon called Estoril right on the Atlantic coastline.  It was a lovely resort area with a beach not far away, wonderful food and beautiful views.  Quaint and cozy, Lisbon was not far away but east and a bit sheltered from the ocean on an inlet formed by the Tagus River.  We ended up living in a town called Carcavelos between Estoril and Lisbon but still very near the Atlantic.  This made for some interesting adventures.  School was different to say the least!!!!   It was a small private school called St. Columban's, run by an Irish Headmaster.  Since Portuguese is very similar to Spanish, I expected to not have much of a problem learning to get along there.  BUT nooooo, we were forced to take French and Latin at St Columban's.  There went my Spanish.  It was soon turned into Portuguese and my recall of all other foreign words was mucked up forever.  Oh did I mention that our first French teacher was Chinese.   Eeegads! Yep seventh and eighth grade were challenging.  This was my eighth school.

A fun part of living in Portugal was that it was so safe for us kids.   I was old enough finally to go some places on my own.  My girlfriends and I rode our bikes everywhere and if the place we wanted to go was too far, we could ride the train.  We even rode the train in towards Lisbon to go to school, for a while.  I rode horses at a stable in Estoril almost every week.  AND we played along the coast on the beaches a lot until we got wet during the colder months too often.  Then that was stopped.   I was bitter cold there during the damp winter months but not cold enough to freeze.  The downside was that there was no central heating.  We just had portable kerosene heaters to take the chill off the rooms.  The bathrooms were all tiled and so cold.  The bathrooms only had small gas hot water heaters that were quickly empty.  By the time the water got from the heater to the tube it was not very hot.  I remember Mom saying when she could not stand the cold anymore; she would go for a ride in the car with the heat on full blast to warm up.

During one very exciting vacation, we flew over to Paris to see some friends of my parents.  We shopped, saw the sites like the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame Cathedral but the highlight for me was attending a performance of The Ballet de Paris.  It was total enchantment!  Somewhere I still have the program and some pictures we bought.  I was on cloud nine for several weeks.

Soon this assignment came to an end.  We were almost packed to move out of the house when Dad was asked to stay a little bit longer.  That meantwe moved into a furnished apartment not far from the house we were in to finish out the stay.  In the process, sweet little Fifi accidentally got pregers and had a couple pups by some "back alley" mongrel.  (I was a bit young to understand all that was going on then.)  Only one puppy survived.  Fifi had a rough time too.  We gave the cute little pup away to someone that worked for a friend.  He loved that pup so much.  For us, it was not much fun to train a puppy in a small apartment.

On the second try we made it out of Portugal.  We got to fly to London, see the sites there, then rode an English train to the Port of South Hampton to board another ship for a 7 day cruise home on the SS America, part of the United States Lines, for a drama free trip back to New York City.  Boy, if I had known then what I know now about my Dad’s side of the family, we might have visited some distant cousins.   Dad’s Farrow (Grandma Syx was a Farrow) ancestors were from Durham County in England, not too far northeast of London.

Back to Akron, Ohio

Dad’s next assignment was different.  He was to work in Akron for a while.  So we moved back in with Aunt Hazel on Copley Road and I started school back in the states.  My ninth school (and 9^th grade) was West Junior High.  Another experience with class changing loomed over me.  I did not know one soul attending that school so it was a whole new experience all the way around.  It was not much fun.  Generally, Dad dropped me off in the morning but I got out so early that I usually took a city bus home as the house was at least a mile or more away.  West was not in a good neighborhood, but there was a Krispy Kreme donut shop across the street.  It wasn’t all bad! (Smile)

I survived West (barely).  Barely passed algebra…yuk!  So it was on to high school and school number ten, Buchtel High School about six blocks in the other direction from the house.  Kids that went to Buchtel were called the “Cake Eaters” I guess because they lived in nice neighborhoods.  (They were nice then, but not anymore).  Buchtel High and Firestone High School were major rivals back then.  I had some Firestone buddies from Valencia that attended Firestone so that made for an even better rivalry.  Also had another old Valencia friend attending Buchtel named Bob Dickinson, who was on the school’s varsity football team.  That was a treat, except that his family was soon shipped overseas again to Thailand.  And we soon followed, so there went my schooling in the U.S.

Bangkok, Thailand (AKA Siam)

By the time my sophomore year was over, we were heading out again.    The Dickinson family was all settled in and enrolled in school by the time we arrived in Bangkok.  We stayed at the Erawan Hotel for a few weeks while Mom shopped for a furnished apartment for us.   Erawan stood for three elephant heads and was a common meaningful design seen in Thailand.  There were lots of elephants in the country.   This hotel was located not far from the Royal Palace as Thailand has a royal family even though it is governed by a Prime Minister. The current King was educated in the U.S. and is very Americanized in many ways.   Thai is a strange language, not easily learned.  It is made up of many similar words with different meanings depending on what tone is used when the word is spoken.  It was possible to learn how to count in Thai so you could barter for a reasonable fare for a taxi or a motorized ‘samlar’ (a motorcycle-driven three-wheeled conveyance sort of like a rickshaw or when buying at the market.   That was all that was necessary.  Many locals spoke English well enough to help the Americans get along.

There was a huge community of Americans and other nationalities living in Bangkok, including many families with the U.S. Military.  School number 11, the International School of Bangkok (ISB) which I attended, was a full elementary and high school.  Over 120 different nationalities were going to classes there at the time. It was definitely a fun year for me.  It was possible to have more independence and attend some good parties.  Our small apartment complex was more on the order of townhouses.   We had a pool out front and lots of social gatherings with others that lived there.  Everyone was American and most the families were with the military.   As it was 1963-1964, it was just before the Vietnam War started and accounted for such a large military presence.  One of the scariest things that happened while we were in Bangkok was the horrible assassination of President John F. Kennedy.  Although television programing was not very good in Bangkok, the coverage of the assassination news was very thorough.

Other highlights of being in Thailand:  the introduction of the Beatles to the music scene, spending time at a beach resort area called Pataya with friends and a long driving trip to a mountain community called Chang-Mai.  Both areas were very basic and primitive/undeveloped back then but they have grown and become much more modern today.  Recent video I have seen of these areas on HGTV have been astounding.  What changes have been made all over!  Would love to go back and see some of the areas that were so familiar. A little over a year passed and we were Akron bound again… What’s next?

The Final Stop

So the final assignment that I was part of was state side.  After all the exotic places I was fortunate to live, my senior year of school was to be spent in Russellville, Arkansas.  Dad was being sent there to help build another Firestone factory which was to produce inner tubes.  Whoever heard of Arkansas (just kidding) much less, the town of Russellville?  It was probably the biggest culture shock I ever experienced.  Russellville was a small town with a population of about 12,000 between Little Rock and Fort Smith, Arkansas.  It was built around a small college, Arkansas Tech. that primarily addressed the Agricultural environment where it was located.  So I attended and graduated from my 12th school, Russellville High School in 1965 then went to Arkansas Tech for a year...

Well, I soon  met the man I was to marry.  And the rest is history….for better and worse.  So that’s the story of my education with 12 school changes in as many years.  I am sure I wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way.  It’s still hard for me to stay in one place for more than a few years. 

Yep, I’m ready to move back to Florida!  Anytime!!!!!