Bridget asked me recently to make a blog and enter each Sunday a story by me or Pat about our childhood. She has heard stories but can't really remember them well enough to embellish them to her kids. I think that is a great idea, and it may end up being pieced together to become the personal history my church asks everyone to write.
She wondered about the bear traps in the basement which are from Pat's grandfather who ran away from home at age 14 and became a sharp shooter in Buffalo Bill's circus. And there was the friendly sword fight I had with Robert Lawrence using carving knives in his kitchen. We were probably 13 or 14 in Berkeley, California where we lived. He, in a moment of extreme stupidity, grabbed my blade with his hand. "Aha, I've got your sword." I, in a moment of extreme stupidity, pulled the blade out slicing all of his fingers. "Not so fast, Batman."
There was blood everywhere. I think we mopped up the blood and the hand, and I don't remember if he went to the doctor or if his parents found out. Ironically, he became a doctor and had a practice doing private autopsies. More about our morbidity in a later blog. In med school he did a dog abortion. He was surprised that the dog later delivered a whole litter, less one.
Bridget, thanks for setting up this blog. I would rather call it Remembrances than Memory Lane. I couldn't figure out how to do it. I didn't have to put in a password to write this. Does that mean everyone can write my blog? Or did my computer memorize my password?
