Sept. 13, 2006 - 21:37 MDT

ONCE UPON A TIME

There I was, that was me. In the baby carriage at Robbie Burns Statue in City Park Denver. I looked at the picture closely, couldn't see much of me but Mom was such a young woman, maybe 25 - 26 years old.

On top of my box of family pictures is a sepia studio picture of my Mom, guessing that she is about 14 going on 15. Eternally young for me.

Another picture, me in my Indian suit with war bonnet on my tricycle my cousin riding behind. The two of us together wouldn't weigh as much as a new teen ager.

There are the pictures of the Rose Arbor that my uncle built for the folks, some with family on the seats, one with me in my wool Jantzen bathing suit, no where close to teen age, all elbows, knees, ears and eyeballs. But I was so eager to be a grown up.

Dad's friend who used to work in Denver and was transferred to Colorado Springs. A man of Jewish Parentage, who in my early life I knew as Uncle Abe. That got corrected the first time I filled out any kind of paperwork at school and Dad found out that I listed him as my uncle. I was kindly told that Abe was just a good family friend. Oh, well, I think of him now as I did then, Uncle Abe. He made almost 100 years before he passed on. His oldest daughter is my age, with four more daughters younger than her.

I would hear about the girls from Mom and Dad now and then. They sent me a copy of the eldest's senior photo - - - what a gorgeous gal she was then. Nice looking the last time I saw her and her sibs at her Dad's memorial service a few years ago.

Of course there is a bare butt picture of me laying on the bed, don't most parents do that to their kids ? A studio picture or two of me, probably taken at an age before I could talk with enything but my eyes. There is one picture that seems to show a question in my look at the camera.

Snapshots of me as I grew (physically - mentally, doubtful), pictures in the mountains, pictures of me in my ROTC uniform in high school, trying to stand straight and tall. I was six foot by then, but still fighting unruly hair.

There is a picture of Peggy our wire haired fox terrier who was my companion in my early years. Several pictures of Bedelia our cat, who used to ride on my shoulders as I walked the neighborhood.

I remember once Bedelia was being chased by a Police Dog and jumped up on our window sill. I chased the dog away and tried to pick her up to calm her. Uh-oh, wrong move Doug. She bit the ball of my thumb quite quickly before I could set her down. Did get cat-bite fever, but no other problems from that. We still loved each other even so.

Pictures of us at Devil's Head, fire lookout station. It was quite a hike from the parking area up to the ranger's station and a stiff climb up rickety stairs from his cabin up to the lookout, even winded my Dad going up there. The view from Devil's Head was across the prairie to the east and north and south and west were glorious mountains.

There is a series of photos of Trail Creek Camp Ground, near Florissant, Colorado (doubt if it is there anymore). Uncle Abe and his family would come up from Colorado Springs and we would come down Rampart Range Road from Denver. A time or two we camped overnight, but most of the time it was just a long day picnic. Gee, uncle Abe could cook up a storm and he enjoyed eating his product too.

There are more pictures, I have a negtative of a picture taken in uncle Abe's yard of Mom, Dad and I. I look to be about hip high to Mom, but am standing on my tippy toes, trying to be as big as I could be.

There are more pictures, but I got tired and put the box up, hoping to begin to start putting them in an album or six.

Heather and I put together a collection of albums of our life together years ago and she keeps adding to them. Now I have pictures in my computer that are treasured, as well.

But, tonight, just like the fairy stories of childhood began, ONCE UPON A TIME . . . . . . . . . . . .

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