Ollie and I attended and participated as vendors at the Texas State History Association's annual meeting in El Paso this past week. It was a very nostalgic trip for me, more nostalgic that I thought it was going to be. I was unprepared for my emotions when we approached El Paso and on I-10 and saw the Juarez mountains in the distance. The sight of them, unexpectedly, caused me to get all choked up, and I remained that way most of the 4 days we were there!
When I was born in Austin in 1955, Dad was struggling to make ends meet to provide for his then family of 3 little girls. I was born in June and we moved to El Paso when I was about a month old so that Dad could go to work for Grandpa Smith. We lived there until I was 5, moved and lived in Mission Texas for about 3 months, then moved back to Austin to our house on Mullen Drive, just in time for me to start the first grade at the age of 6.
We lived in the eastern part of El Paso on Mt. Rushmore St. and Grandma Fairy and Grandpa Smith lived on McKinley Ave. I set out one morning with my GPS and found both houses! It took me a bit to find Grandpa and Grandma's house because I didn't know the exact address. I drove down the street once and couldn't find it. After conferring with Jean and Sue (who, to my advantage, happened to be together going to visit Aunt Dorene in rehab), I got my bearings and found it! I had no idea, again, that I had so much nostalgia tied up in that house! A lot about it had changed, but it was their house nonetheless. As soon as I spotted it, I started crying! Once I got gathered my composure, I got out and stood looking at the house. Many memories came back of playing out in the yard and on the rock walls. The front yard was 100% dirt - not one blade of grass. The tall slender cedars that stood on either side of the house were gone. The front porch was encased in security bars and mesh. But, I stood on the sidewalk and allowed my memories to take me back to the way it looked when Grandpa and Grandma Smith lived there and I held those memories in my heart. "In childhood, we press our nose to the pane, looking out. In memories of childhood, we press our nose to the pane, looking in."
One of the things I wanted to see most was the mail slot. As a child, I thought it was so cool that there was a mail slot built into the wall to the right of the front door. There was a metal door on the outside with a flap that read "MAIL." On the inside of the house there was a cute little door with an arched top that opened to a little cubby for the mail! We kids would write little notes and slip them in the mail slot so that we could retrieve them from the little cubby! I was able to take a picture of the mail slot from the outside, but, sadly, I could not go inside the house to get one of the little arched door to the cubby. I knocked on the door with hopes of getting to go inside the house, but no one was home. I could see through the screen door though. The french doors in the dining room that used to lead to steps down to the back yard were there, but a huge addition to the back of the house is under construction, so the back of the house and the back yard were totally different. The fireplace on the right wall of the living room was still intact. I walked around the corner of the block and took some pictures of the alleyway behind the house. As kids, alleys were something foreign to us and we ventured out there often.
There used to be rock walls that lined the boundaries of each yard on that part of the block. We visited Grandma and Grandpa every Easter after we had moved back to Austin. While visiting, those fences were a fascination to us kids! Glenda, Danny and I would walk the fences like tightrope walkers or ride them like they were our horses. Many, many hours of fun and imagination were spent on those rock walls! In our neighborhood on Mt Rushmore, we would even could use the rock wall fences as walkways to our friends' houses! Well, there were no longer walls in the front of the house and the walls along the side of the house had been torn down for the construction of the addition to the back of the house. The driveway was totally paved, there were sidewalks down the length of the block and there was concrete between the sidewalk and the curb. So, all in all, much of the personality of the house had been altered, but I held onto my memories and tried not to allow that to disappoint me.
I spoke to a next-door neighbor and was told that the house had been owned by a couple who grew old there, died and left the house to a granddaughter and her family. The only person in the neighborhood who would have remembered Grandpa and Grandma Smith was a 92 year old woman who lived across the street and down a couple of houses. Ironically she passed away that same morning that I was there! I would have loved to have visited with her!
The Smith house was made of flat rusty-colored rock. Amongst the rock in the exterior of the fireplace was a perfect cross! I did not remember that being there! When I saw it, I said a prayer and thanked God for childhood memories and for that reminder of His presence! I loved taking that vision home with me.
I left McKinley Avenue and drove to Mt Rushmore Street to see the house our family live in. The neighborhood had drastically changed. Most of the houses were in sad need of repair, there were broken-down cars in the driveways, carports used for storage, no grass in the yards...not a very pretty picture. Our house had security bars and screens locking away the front porch and distorting the view of the big picture-window in the living room, and the carport had been enclosed. I didn't have nearly the same emotion tied to this house as I did Grandma and Grandpa's. I remembered so many things about this house and so many things that happened there, but I didn't feel as emotionally attached to this house as I was to Grandma and Grandpa's. I did go to the door to the porch and spoke through the screen to the elderly woman who now lived there. She was unwelcoming, so I did not linger. I drove a short distance to the Church we attended, Blessed Sacrament, and took pictures for Jean and Glenda. They attended school there and Glenda received her First Communion in that Church.
Ollie and I had a fantastic time in El Paso and I felt very fortunate and blessed to have been able to take a little trip down memory lane! Thank you for letting me share it with you!
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again..." Laura Ingalls Wilder
