Being Born

The day I was born was a strange day.  I was two weeks late.  It was July 1976 and I can only imagine it was terribly hot.  My mother was very sick of being pregnant for sure.  So she decided to help things along.  She walked across the Roebling Suspension Bridge from Covington, KY to Cincinnati, OH to watch a Reds baseball game…quite common back then to walk across for games.   Then she decided to eat some peanuts, have a beer (she never drank) and walk back across the bridge to the car.  That’s when I decided to make an appearance…I mean beer was being served, I didn’t want to miss that.

So apparently, my parents then drove home.  I’m not sure where they were living at the time but they went home and got their basic hospital stuff.  My grandparents got in the car and the story goes as soon as all four were in the car, my grandmother thought they would be there awhile so she went back inside to get a book.  When she came back out, my grandfather then he thought he should get a book.  This was quite unbelievable to my parents as you can imagine.

I’m not sure what exactly happened after that but my birth certificate says I came into the world on July 30, 1976 at 3:21AM.  Wouldn’t it be nice to remember your first memory?  Strange thought isn’t it?  What I do remember as a child is only bits and pieces and then sometimes you have to wonder if it’s your own memory or someone else telling you what happened.


Me and my beautiful momma, Katherine.


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