So Long Ago

I remember when. I do. Some people think I’m making it up, but I’m not. My life has had many unusual happenings in it. Particularly the places I have lived and the experiences those places have added to my life.

Like living on the Mojave Desert. When I was 3, my parents celebrated their anniversary. Dad came home with a gift box. Mom opened it to find a very special and expensive (for then and them) watch with a solid bracelet band. I reached up to see it, and a tiny chain and clasp caught in my sweater. It pulled on the watch and broke the clasp. Without that, wearing the watch would pose a threat of it falling off the wrist and breaking badly.

The event was emotionally bruising. Both parents were upset, and at me; but they quickly knew that at 3 I was not responsible. So, the happening passed. But I remembered it, still do, 78+ years later.

I remember being on the open desert floor. I remember the quiet and solitude of those moments. I remember the vast array of navy vehicles stored as surplus from World War II which had only recently ended. We were on a research test station for the Navy in the middle of the desert. Today, that facility at China Lake near Inyokern, California, still functions but the base has expanded to 5 million acres. Huge.

We traveled frequently to friends in Altadena and Pasadena. Our home still was in Altadena, but we leased it out while we were on the desert. I was born in Pasadena, so was my sister. We lived in Altadena until 1953 when we moved to a home we built in Glendora, not far from Claremont and Pomona. Grandpa and Grandma Safford retired to a Congregational ministers’ community in Claremont, Pilgrim Place.

And yes, I remember Azusa, Cucamonga and Anaheim. And Mount Baldy in the San Gabriel mountains behind us to the north. We traveled those mountains and visited the Mojave many times. Dad still had work there, we had many friends there, and the desert had a particular appeal to us all. A rare beauty resided in that land and drew us back many times.

Living in southern California was a treat although I barely knew it because it was the only place I knew. Warm weather most of the year round; hot in summer, but still dry, and cool nights. Palm trees, pine trees, hardwoods, too, and a gazillion flowering shrubs and green flora.

I remember the Santa Ana winds that blew hard and steady around New Year’s Day. We relished the gusts and rode them out in our huge pepper tree in the backyard. I remember walking the neighborhood sidewalks and smelling the fresh grass, blooming lilacs and other perfumed plants.

Oh, we had earthquakes and forest fires with accompanying mudslides in the rainy season. Yes, there was a rainy season, and it was December and January as I recall. It rarely rained anytime else in the year.

And we grew up conserving water, managing our trash to minimize damage to the earth and air, took special care as well to reduce the risk of forest fires. Smokey the Bear always told us, “Only you can prevent forest fires.” Those lessons stayed with me for a lifetime and are a stark difference with my friends from the east coast and Midwest. I still conserve water. I still do not burn anything to prevent smog. And I particularly avoid causing fires.

I have a host of other memories from childhood. I am reminded of them daily. Truly I am. They provide a rich tapestry to life. I value the richness. It is a part of my base of perception of all things worldly. I’ll try to share more of those memories in this space.

February 19, 2025

 

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