Where to begin

In reading the book “Legacy” I find it overwhelming to begin writing about my life. There are so many conversations and incidents that are seemingly unimportant but I am sure have some influence on my life and those who have followed me. My earliest memories are not what I remember but what I have been told.

My mom married my dad at 16 years old and moved to St. Louis where they lived with his parents. My Mom still had a year of high school to complete, which she did. It had to have been hard for her in a strange place with strangers, especially when she got pregnant with me. I was born 15 days before her 18th birthday.

My grandparents doted on me. My grandmother, Mary Jane, used to be an English nanny and married my grandfather when my dad was 3 years old. She taught my mom how to be a wife and mother. I have only heard that everyone held her in high esteem and she was a fantastic person.

My dad was in World War II. He took flying lessons while a teenager and went into the Army as a pilot. After the war he tried to settle down in St. Louis with a banking position but was bored and missed the Army. He went back in and was stationed to Germany after basic training for 6 months in Colorado Springs. So when I was 3 and Vic (brother) was 2 my parents loaded us up in the old Chevy and headed for New York to catch a steamer to Europe. Upon arrival in New York there was a telegram that grandma had died. It seems she had a blood clot in her leg, but my dad was convinced it was a broken heart because he took her grandchildren away. We turned around and drove back to St. Louis for the funeral. I am glad I didn’t understand any of this because my parents’ grief had to have been overwhelming. We then drove back to New York, got on a steamer and headed for Europe.