‘naked! One of 13

Born in the Midwest during World War II, I was raised in a transitional period when:
- farm horses were being replaced by tractors and things mechanical,
- large families were no longer needed to operate and manage a farm,
- single-room schools were becoming scarce and rural school districts were being consolidated,
- the population flow was from rural to small town to cities, and
- electric cooking ovens were replacing wood-fueled ones.

I have written about my early years from first memory through elementary school in a mostly chronological fashion. I describe how it was to:
- be raised in a family of 13 children with four older sisters,
- briefly experience rural living that included attending a one-room school where I was taught by my mother,
- adjust to small-town life in Grant Wood’s hometown where I attended parochial school under the watchful eyes of the Sisters of Mercy and the evil eyes of Father Simon,
- survive summer adventures,
- grow up in a town whose economy was dominated by a state prison, and
- root for the Chicago White Sox in a town divided in support of the equally dismal Chicago Cubs and the St. Louis Cardinals.

I divided the manuscript into 14 chapters. In its prologue, I explain that I wrote my memoirs as a family project initiated by my younger sister Jana. This was in the early 1990s as I was approaching 50 years. A great idea, I thought. The collection of these efforts might have some value to a sociologist or social psychologist. But alas, I was among the few members who actually drafted and/or circulated theirs.

As I began to write, I decided that I would recount my early life as entertainingly as I could so that years later my children and my grandchildren might actually read what I wrote. When completed, I printed copies for each of my three children and circulated several other copies to my siblings and asked that they read it and pass it on. I am not sure where all of these manuscripts are today.

While recording my personal history, the process of doing so became a subject of interest. As I wrote in the Prologue,
During the past year, I have discovered that one memory, dredged up or drawn forth, triggers another. One thought produced on reflection evokes a second, and so on. Should reflections on my teens trigger earlier incidents not found in these pages, I might interject them. You've noticed, I'm sure, that I have leaped ahead on more than one occasion.

The accuracy of what I wrote was important, too. However, when challenged by my Aunt Irene about my grandparents’ brief separation, I consulted my older sister Dolores. She agreed with what I wrote. I decided then that I should remain true to my memories no matter how inaccurate they may turn out to be.

In the manuscript I describe my first memories through those of my elementary school years. I have a second manuscript that follows my years in middle and high school.