Some of our most loyal and long-lasting friendships came from our time in America (both British and American). Two of my mother’s friends from that time, were still visiting her weekly up until relatively recently, when one of them died. Her and her husband have also visited us here in Australia.
One of our American friends from that time, helped me to organise a visit to America for my mother. She (Our American friend) had been really concerned for her. My mother had been treated to a wonderful time. There is a lovely photo of her working in the pickle factory. She just looked so happy. For a while there was also a video up on You Tube of the event. I would watch it, if ever I needed to hear my mother ĺaugh. Sadly it is no longer there.
If I contact my dear American friend, she has always got straight back to me. I love her so much. I remember travelling to the military hospital with her because her son, one of my favourite babies, aside from my own, had serious nappy rash. Funny to think about it now as he would be around forty years old. He was special, as he was born with a problem with his hips and he was in plaster casts all the way up to his hips. He had a lovely temperament. He had used to bang his plaster casts together so he was given the nickname,”Bam Bam.” I think our family will always call him “Bam Bam.”
We (his mother and I) had shared the horror of September 11th 2001 together. We had emailed each other almost daily for a while. She knew people who were missing and/or iwho had died. I confess I have been really worried about America since 2015.What Would Fascist America Look Like? -Thom Hartmann
I have recently subscribed to this channel since being reminded of the Political Media Bias Chart, as it rated well for giving out factual, unbiased information.
Another one of our neighbours had helped us out with our car. I have a photo of them with their first child in a high chair but I cannot remember their family name. I know that they moved to North Carolina and were devout Christians so I have sometimes wondered if they attend the mega church there.
One of my Dad’s colleagues married an American female engineer. They had gone on to have five children. They still send me a Christmas card and photos every year, even though I stopped making an effort to keep in touch, through all the drama of my toxic divorce and trying to be there for our youngsters.
The first of our neighbours to say hello was the little boy from across the street. I had said ‘Hello”. As he was knocking on the door of the house where the family from Ecuador had lived.
He had responded with,
He had just sounded so American. His mother had been one of my favourite people. I notice now that like me she must have liked butterflies (with Mozart’s 40th symphony.). She had always made me feel welcome. I think I made her a tissue box cover from memory. Her husband had been one of the guys digging us all out of the snow and enjoying the odd Budweiser. I do not remember their little girl very well, except like her brother she was very blonde. She was also very pretty. I have a photo of their young son asleep on the couch.
We had parties all the time with our American and British neighbours and friends. All that was needed was a big container of Gallo wine.
My Father would invite his American colleagues over for a barbecue on occasions. I remember one lovely guy who walked into our screen doors. We were so fond of him. Somebody had even made him a miniature screen door in honour of the accident.( I have a photo of him sitting on our couch) They had all seemed to have a complicated relationship with their supervisor but I have just come across a photo of him beaming and happy.
Many of Dad’s British colleagues remain in touch with my mother and each other to this day. While we were in America the women would catch up every week for bowling. I think I have mentioned before that we had often bumped into each other in the International aisle at Safeway, where we could buy at least some of the food we missed from home.
I am sitting here looking at the photos right now and my memories are a little tinged with sadness, as firstly my father has died and secondly I never knew I really wouldn’t see them again. I still have autographs and photos to keep them all in my heart.
Source: Pink https://youtube.com/user/PinkVideoVault
It distresses me to see America in so much trouble. All I can do is sit here on my pathetic, little blog and say how much we love and care about you all and hope that you can work things out.
Source:Samoa Global News
The bane of our lives was the Washington Beltway. Every road seemed to lead to this terrifying multi-lane highway, with cars overtaking you on every side. You could end up absolutely anywhere and we frequently did. It was my Dad’s equivalent of Shinjuku Station.
One of our hobbies had been to try and see the number plates from all fifty states. We had a book which said a little bit about each state too.Delaware – Perry Como