Category Archives: Memories

My Best Memory

“Best memory” is a misnomer.  It implies that all other memories fall short of this particular one.  I believe memories can’t be ranked. Each one is special in a different way. But a memory that stands out to me occurred when I was 12. The events and feelings were so powerful  that I drew upon them for comfort for many years.  It was special because it caused an awakening in my soul for the appreciation of beauty in nature.
 
It was the summer of 1945.  The war had ended, gas rationing was over and families were planning trips again.  Mom and Dad, Bobby Webb (my nephew), and I, all piled into our ‘41 Ford, pulling a tiny teardrop trailer and headed for Yosemite National Park for a week.  
 
The drive was hot and long but when we reached the look-out at the entrance of Yosemite Valley, I was awe-struck.  I had no idea massive walls of rock with waterfalls cascading down and thick pine forests even existed. I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
 
We drove on into the valley and found a lovely camping spot next to the Merced River.  There was a picnic table and fire pit to cook on.  Our tiny trailer was only large enough for a mattress inside where Mom and Dad slept.  Bobby and I had a little tent with two cots and sleeping bags.  We thought it was perfect and it was!  I felt such a freedom there.  The towering rock walls reminded me of a fortress and I felt safe and protected.  It was as if I was in another world and time. Continue reading

Bancroft Get-Together

 “Bancroft’s Get-together”… That’s what the hand-made wooden sign proclaimed, tacked above a make shift screen door in our tent-like structure on the sand.  It meant just that.  This is our family’s summer place where we would come each summer to forget about the rumors of war and enjoy the warmth of the sun,  swim in the bay, eat fresh fish caught by the men, and especially laugh and play cards all night.             

During these pre-war years of the late 30’s and early 40’s, money was still scarce but having a good time was free, or almost free!  Things were different in Newport Beach, California in those days.  The resort hadn’t made a name for itself yet, and putting up a campsite on the bay for the summer was relatively cheap.  Communal bathrooms and open cook-houses with gas burners, grills and sinks were provided which made our camping experience quite comfortable.

Daddy was the creative one and figured out how to construct our temporary summer camping structure out of old canvas signs he had made in his business.  Dad, my brother Bud, and my sister’s husband Bob, would pull the tiny trailer from our house in Anaheim to Newport Beach in late June.  Daddy’s truck would be full of lumber, awning tent material and parts of large wooden boxes which had been flattened to be used for the flooring.

It seemed miraculous that my Dad, by using his ingenuity, could construct such a comfortable structure leading from the tiny trailer.  Bob, Bud and Dad worked hard for several weekends nailing and sawing lumber, stretching canvas with screening mesh for windows for our summer place. Bob ran electricity so there would be light for playing cards and reading. 

Later they would haul plenty of old  mattresses, a couch, and a big round table with lots of chairs.  (A necessity for playing cards!)  Dad even found old pieces of discarded rugs for the floor.  The room off the trailer was huge.  Probably 20’ by 30’, at least that’s how big it seemed to me as a child!  I look at the pictures now and realize it was much, much smaller. Mom and Dad slept in the tiny trailer and the rest of us had our mattresses and bedding in the big tent area, which was comfortable and fun.

On Friday nights we would all meet at our “Bancroft’s Get-together” in Newport on the bay.  Dot and Bob with Bobby (who was 4 years younger than myself), Bud and Jean, Dad, Mom and me. There were always lots of Dot and Bud’s friends who came down for the weekend too.

The evenings were filled with laughter and lots of card playing till late at night. My very best memory was of waking early in the morning to the aromatic smell of coffee perking and bacon frying at the cook-house across from our camping spot. Nothing in this world ever smelled better!  That smell is etched in my mind and always recreates this special memory even to this day.

I can remember Bobby and I getting up early and going outside, sitting in the sand and playing with our lead soldiers and trucks.  The sun was warm on our shoulders and we played for what seemed like hours until our sleepy parents woke up.

The rest of the day was spent paddling around in the bay (it was clean then!) and the guys went fishing off the pier.  Sunburns were always part of the routine and in the afternoon strong tea was applied to our red backs.  Since Bobby was only 3 and I was 7, I remember spending the afternoon reading my books and playing with my dolls waiting for him to wake up from his nap.

I loved the feeling of the beach… the hot sun, clean air, the smell of salt water and the blue, blue sky. I always felt very safe and comfortable and loved having all my family around me.  It was a contrast to my days at home spent playing alone behind the beauty shop.  I always wished I had a brother or sister my age, to play with.  I think it was about this time that I decided to have a large family when I grew up, so I would never have to be alone again.   

           

My Mom

Iva Belle Reid Bancroft was the most influential woman in my life. She was my mother. Her influence was the kind everyone wants.  I knew she loved me unconditionally, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for me, and she treated everyone with kindness and concern.  I remember riding in the car with her Continue reading