Going Deaf In Middle Childhood

We all enjoyed reading LaRonda's story so much, that I thought it would be neat if some of the rest of us shared a little about what happened to US. We had to finish out our childhoods with the "hearing on the forehead" Sign, which in itself makes us "different".

I will not attempt to write everything in one installment, because I know that important tidbits will keep popping back into my head as I go along. I am not trying to compete with anyone else's blog or their own special story. "I yam what I yam" (Thanks Popeye).

Part One: "The OriginalFarmer's Daughter" ! Yes, I was raised on an All Jersey Dairy. I was actually born in South Central L.A., Huntington Park, when that city was already beginning to show shades of becoming intolerable, so my Dad moved us, bag and baggage to Washington State where he was originally from. We eventually purchased our Dairy Farm and all 3 of us kids had a hand in running the business. My two brothers usually got burdened with the dirty work, and I, as a female got to feed the new calves and do "light duty". I always preferred working outside, over helping my mother sweat over canning jars in the kitchen. I still hold that trait today. 'Interesting that both of my brothers chose professions where they would work INSIDE. I wonder why?!

My family is from a long line of Irishers. (How did you guess?!) My maternal grandfather was a railroad man who moved frequently with his large family in tow, and my paternal grandfather settled in Port Angeles, Washington where he helped build the city. My happiest memories are of visiting my grandparents in Port Angeles and the unforgetable aroma of the many sawmills in the area at that time. My maternal grandparents lived in San Bernardino, Ca. and my memories of that town are of constant train whistles blowing. To this day, the smell of coal oil reminds me of my grandpa.

To be continued