The Old House

We had this home in our family since 1965. So many great memories, I won't go into all that but there ya go. We finally sold it on my birthday, and the day we left, the '3' on the front of the house mysteriously fell in a downward position. This had never happened before.
Maybe the house is saying goodbye. That's what I hope it's saying. Luckily, I met the man that is buying the house for his growing family. He assured me that he understood the sadness of selling the house, and that he would take care of it. I believe him. Time will tell.
Goodbye Old House, you've been a good friend all these years.

November 22, 1963

Yesterday I was talking with some friends. We were discussing the JFK assassination in Dallas in 1963. We are all of age that we remember where we were that day.
I told them that I was a second grader at John Ireland in The Grove. I was home sick that Friday however and was home from school. The first thing That happened was that Walter Chronkite came on TV with obviously an important message. I was newly minted 8 year old so I knew what puffy eyes and a slightly cracking voice in an older person meant.
The veteran newsman took off his glasses and told the nation that the president had been killed in Dallas Texas. I'm not sure if the fact that he had been killed in my hometown and where I was residing, made the announcement any more horrifying. I ran out side and stood on the back porch. It was by noon a clear day in Dallas after raining all morning. Mom was hanging clothes on the line in the back yard. I yelled from the porch that President Kennedy had been killed. She said "Bill quit storytelling," or words to that effect. It seems the words were "Bill, quit lying." But I'm not totally sure.
My other memories is being in front of our really big Sears Silvertone B/W TV in the living room. I seem to remember seeing the moment, that Sunday morning, where Jack Ruby shot Oswald. I'm not sure if that was just a memory of another time thinking about that Sunday.
Another thing that I remember is the fact that for years, going on vacation with the family, that Mom would tell us not to tell people that we were from Dallas. There was so much anger towards this conservative town, and the media hyped it up, that it was just better to keeps ones hometown, to ones self.   

The Old House

We finally sold the house that I pretty much grew up in. Moved in during the month of May 1965, I was 9 years old. So many memories, my family are the original owners. The neighborhood has had changes over the years,, even though the street is in good shape. My birthday was Monday, that's the day it sold. I was over there with the A/C guys, who had put two others there in the last 25 years or so, and I met the new owner. I explained what the house meant to me and my family. He shook my hand, and with sincerity, said his family would take care of The Old House.
What more can you do? I was the last Croom in the house, that meant something to me at least.
 Last week, one of the numbers on the front of the house flipped upside down for some reason. This as far as I know, had not happened in the 46 years we were in the house. Saying goodbye? Sorry to see you go? I believe in such signs. I want to believe in this one.
Before I left Monday, I flipped the number back to it's proper place, said my long goodbyes to a place that will always be home to me. It's so sad, but I'm lucky that I had so many happy years in that old house. I will miss it, we all will. I'll ride by on occasion, stop in front, and check on it, tell it how much we miss her.
Times flies Dad always said, after you turn fifty. Yes it does and it hurts.

Pvt Robert Vance, Normandy, July 1944

Near St. Lo France

Pvt Roy Zimmerman, July 27, 1944. He'a an M-P obviously, and riding a Harley-Davidson WLA, maybe a 1942 model. The bike has the scabbard with a rifle, or machine gun, ammo box on the front forks. The helmet he's wearing looks like an old football helmet. I know that the riders wore helmets, but I thought most were the tanker type. Great pic with an even greater sign.