House Willis

My Past

I was born in San Jose, California in the winter of 1968. Though I remember nothing of San Jose (my family migrated East when I was two(?)) I've always been drawn to the Pacific. There's something about the air and the attitude of the people. For some reason it seems like the place to settle.

From California we moved to Manchester, New Hampshire. I do remember a couple things about our house in Manchester though we only lived there for a couple years also. I have to admit that I beleive these are memories. It's hard to say whether they are accurate, or even if they are memories of experiences, or rather memories of old pictures of the house, seen by me later in childhood. Either way, these "memories" are an ingrained part of my past and create interesting imagery when I recall them.

First, I remember our house. It seems really big in my memories - of course. I recall very little about the inside except that it had a basement(?) and maybe there were skeleton keys that were used to get into the bedrooms - I really liked these keys. Outside, in the back of the house, was a small patio, a sandbox, and a leaf-covered, ravine that led to a stream. I can remember my older brothers sliding down the ravine on old cardboard boxes, and I can remember being scared to join them.

Outside, in the front of the house, was a field with lots of wild flowers during the spring. Next to the front porch, which was raised above ground level by a few steps, was an industrial-sized, square garbage-container. My little brother and I were very frightened of the garbage truck that came to collect the huge container every so often.

During one snowy winter my older brothers and father(?) built tunnels in the snow that had been piled up by a plow, along the edge of the driveway to our house. I can remember playing in those tunnels and having a lot fun. I also remember my older brothers and father building an igloo. I vaguely recall a snow mobile too but nothing else about it.

My family then moved from the north eastern United States to the panhandle of Florida - specifically Eglin Air Force Base. I attended kindergarten and part of first grade there, rode my first school bus, and built small forts. Our house was made of concrete block and was attached to a couple other block-style living quarters in our neighborhood filled with lots of other block homes - all painted drab military colors.

The house had an upstairs where the bedrooms were located. It had a dining area near the stairs with a large map of the world on the wall. I think a pair of sliding glass doors led from the dining area out to a small, concreate porch and a back yard enclosed by a low, hog wire fence. The bedrooms were filled with bunk beds to accomodate myself, three older brothers, one younger brother, and two younger sisters. My father brought a laser home from work one time and set it up on the dining room table at night. We had fun watching him aim it out into the woods behind our back yard and blow cigarette smoke into it's path so that you could see the thin red beam. It was a ruby laser, I think. I remember seeing pieces of a broken synthetic ruby rod that my father had also brought home. Years later, while in late elementary school or early junior high, I became very interested in lasers. I was mainly interested in the fact that different compounds could be used to produce beams with different properties (especially colors). It was this visual element that really peaked my curiosity.

In our back yard, at the very back, was small aluminum boat which rested upside down on concrete blocks. My little brother, Joe, and I would dance around on top of it, burning our feet on the metal which was heated by the summer sun. It seems like we spent a lot time playing together on top of the boat, and coming up with nicknames for each other. I also remember an ant farm my mother had given us and watching her collect ants for it in our yard, using a plastic dropper to suck them up. I don't know why but for the longest time, when I thought back on her doing that, I felt a bit sad for her.

Through a gate in the fence surrounding our yard was a border-like clearing. Beyond this were some woods. I think I recall venturing a little bit into the woods. But mostly I remember getting sand spurs stuck in my feet outside of our fence. I think my older brothers spent most of their time in the woods building a tree fort with other older kids in the neighborhood. My neighbor, Greg Morrison, and I had a small fort in some bushes that were planted along one side of our row of houses.

There are a couple events that I recall being completely amazing as a child at Eglin Air Force Base. The first was meeting a slightly older kid from a more distant neighborhood. He took me on a tour of a fort being built in a large sand gully far away from our house (probably only a block away) by his crew of friends. It was really impressive because they were all working very orderly to build the fort. He pointed things out to me, and seemed very much the leader. They had their act together and I was mesmorized by what they were doing and how independent of the rest of the world they were. It reminds me a lot of those old British or European movies about a gang of kids that have their own secret civilization within the adult-run society, making them seem like they are completely independent from the adult world.

The second event, though very minor and brief, for some reason formed a strong memory. I remember standing in my neighbor's back yard and seeing it raining very hard in the yard next to it, but not at all where I was standing. I guess it seemed like I was standing in a different world or something.

My memories of the environment outside of our neighborhood are of the school I attended, Cherokee Elementary. My kindergarten teacher was very nice. I liked her quite a bit. I remember the smell of the outdoor hallways of the school - a mixture of paint fumes and cafeteria food. I remember collecting the shedded shells of cicadas (we called them "katie-dids") from the pine trees that grew in the playground and placing them in small, green, plastic mesh baskets (like the kind in which strawberries are sold). I played a lot on the swing set, swinging as high as I could then jumping out. It felt like I was flying. Later in childhood I recalled with absolute certainty that one time in particular I actually flown for just for an instant.

Some other cloudy memories from that time...

Relatives (or maybe friends) came to visit and camped out behind our yard...

My three older brothers, Mike, David, and John, had long hair. My oldest brother had a friend that also had very long hair and it apparently constantly became badly tangled. I remember my father make fun of him for that fact. I also seem to remember my oldest brother having an Asian girlfriend...not to sure about this one.

And even more vaguely I remember discussion about a friend of my brother Mike's and some sort of paranormal (or maybe occult) experiences...moving chairs or something...I only remember conversations along this line.

I'm not sure if was at Eglin or maybe it was in New Hampshire, but my oldest brothers and father had spherical molds into which they'd cast resin and coloring to make "clackers". Apparently it was a big thing in the 70's. I remember the smell of the resin to this day.

My brother Dave (second oldest) accumulated a huge knife collection by tieing a huge magnet to a piece of rope and "fishing" for knives off a local fishing pier.

Older brothers and father going crabbing (this might have been while we lived in Crestview). We had a big blue crab boil. My brother John painted the shells of some of the discarded crabs as though they were model planes. (I remember trying this when I was a few years older, except the shells weren't cleaned well enough, so the flies and ants had a feast.)

Having asthma attacks and taking this nasty-tasting liquid medicine for it...(I can almost remember the name of it). Laying/rocking in a chair for comfort (though I outgrew the asthma in my late 20's, I never really outgrew the habit of rocking in a chair for relaxation.)

My littlest sister, Donna, being born...and her umbilical cord finally falling off.

My father yelling at us for using contracted, Southern English, i.e. "What are you doing up there!"..."notin' (for nothing)" comes to mind in particular.

More later...