PAGE FOUR MORE OF MY BIOGRAPHY.

When I left you, I was two months old and unaware that I was not a baby boomer. I don't remember a great deal about this time. I do know that we were gypsies. We moved when dad found a job and moved when he found another. We were in Washington, Olympia I think, and we welcomed a girl. Not only was I not an only child, but her birthday was also one day before mine. It was all very unfair.

We were back in Oregon, Oakridge, this time. Grandpa wanted to help Dad set up a mechanics shop. This led to hard feelings that lasted until Grandpa died. It was here that we were involved in an automobile crash. I received a scar on my forehead from this accident. I remember seeing my mom's face covered with blood and walking my sister away from the scene. These were her first steps. I was almost three and she was nearly one. Mom was not seriously injured. Head cuts bleed a lot.

We moved to California, and mom had a baby, and it was a boy. We lived in Sonora, California. I believe Dad worked in the woods; we weren't there long. We moved to Sweet Home and pretty much stayed there. There were side trips when we lived in Cave Junction, where I started school, and Pistol River, where I began second grade. You could say our living conditions are rustic. We didn't always have electricity, indoor water, or indoor bathroom facilities. One of our adventures brought us a baby girl. She was born at home, in a two-room house. They shipped us kids out to a storage room across from our house.

We lived in various houses around Sweet Home and those other town mentioned. I have some memories of Cave Junction, riding a school bus, school lunches included lima beans, which I tried to hide in my milk cartons, watching a forest fire from our back porch (mom trying to decide whether we should evacuate).

We moved back to Sweet Home. I'm not sure why we kept moving back to Sugar City. We would move and then bounce back to Sweet Home. Our next stop was Pistol River. I remember starting second grade here in a two-room school. Grades 1 through 5 in one room and grades 6 through 8 in another. Everyone in the school was named Young. There was yours truly and the 6-8 teacher. I got beaten up a lot. My father should have taught me to fight. Our water supply was an outdoor faucet a couple of houses down. Any water to be used at home was carried, mostly by me. There was our one trip to see the ocean. I was amazed at how white the sand was and how blue the ocean was. I had a pet duck at this time. A little ball of yellow feathers. My little sister dropped him, and I guess it fractured his skull. Anyway, it died, and I remember the four of us holding a funeral. In school, I would finish the second-grade material and get to work on grades 3-5. I was precocious Most of my memories are pretty mundane. I think I was beaten because I was the best student in grades 2-3-4-5 at the same time.

I'll return and take you through the Sweet Home years.