When we travel through Coronado my family has to put up with me remembering too many details of days past. "See that house, Mom and Dad painted it," or "I baby sat in that house when I was in high school," are comments often heard from me. "I remember being in that house when I was real little. I think my parents knew someone who lived there." I know I can wear their ears out with all these facts. "Do you remember the store that used to be in that location?" is another oft spoken phrase.
Paul often recalls facts from his childhood too. We both grew up in Coronado so between the two of us there is a lot of Coronado history in our heads. Not really enough to write a book about, but our families would be an interesting chapter in a book on Coronado. Actually there is a section on some of the Marvins in one of the Coronado books. Paul's dad responded with some family pictures and facts when one book was being put together. But we could add the Jones and Mc Donaugh family too. I sent one favorite Jones family picture to a book about San Diego. This picture is included in that particular book.
Laura has information about places that my mother painted that I did not even know. Laura spent a lot of time helping her grandmother paint when she was quite young. She remembers Mom painting one mansion that has been in the news lately. I asked her if it was the interior or exterior and Laura remembered it being the exterior. Mom could climb a ladder to paint a two story house if she had to. Mom started painting with Dad back in the forties, soon after the war. She continued until long after Dad died in 1964. She had to earn a living and she was a good worker.
One time I was helping Mom paint inside a house a few blocks from where we lived on F Avenue. It was not long after my dad had died and the children were quite young. The children went nearby to one of Laura's friends to play. I was busy painting and just knew that the children were fine. Well, when Laura came back to where I was I asked her where her little brother was. She said that he would not follow her so she had left him outside the house where I was working. He was not anywhere to be found. Panic time! We rushed home looking for him on the way. Paul was home from work and heard my sob story. He calmly picked up the phone and called the police. When he asked them if they had a kid there the answer was yes.
Paul was able to go to the Coronado Police station and retrieve our little son. He had been found by a very concerned lady and taken to the police. He spent several hours there and seemed none the worse for wear. If it was today and that happened we would not have had such a simple happy ending. I'm sure that other agencies would get involved and we would have to prove that we were fit parents. Was I a fit parent? I think I was, but I could have been a lot better. There are a lot of things that I would improve on. But I do not believe I was negligent. I should have used more sense that day though.
It doesn't take much to dredge up a memory. Just going down that street where I was painting that day so many years ago will bring that story to mind. Just seeing something in the news such as the little girl found wandering in the street in Coronado in the middle of the night will trigger my memory of that day. I am oh so thankful that my story had a happy ending. I certainly hope that the little girl and her adoptive mommy have such a happy reunion. Now days the courts get involved which makes for a long drawn out story. And of course the media have to get involved. My name would have been mud.
Griff continued to have adventures as the years went by. He was an active little boy. Both of my sons could not understand why I was so adamant about them coming down off the two story roof when we lived on Olive Lane. I don't remember how old they were, but they may have been between six and nine years old. And that may have been when I got my first grey hair.
We lived close enough to the beach for the children to enjoy living in a beach community. Laura remembers jumping from rock to rock as she and her friend made their way along Ocean Boulevard. The tide pools in the rocks near Hotel Del Coronado were another place for an adventure for the children. There were walks or bike rides on the Strand as the children got older. That was before there was a good bike path on Silver Strand.
When our oldest daughter was five years old she had an adventure with her little friend. This would have been very unusual as she was always nearby where she belonged. Kathy and her friend walked the whole two blocks to the bay and were found by a nice policeman who brought them home.
Even when the children were barely in kindergarten they were able to walk to school and back home alone once they were shown the way. Now days I would not choose to have children do this, but we lived in a different day and age. I know that some mothers were cautious and continued to walk with their children for several years. One good friend of Laura's always rode on the back of her mother's bike well into grade school. I know a lot of parents are very cautious now days and I understand why.
When the children were quite young they learned the way to their grandparents' homes. I especially remember the first time we decided that Laura was able to walk by herself to Paul's parents' house on the other side of town. Paul's mother and I had it well planned with phone calls and instructions. Laura must have been around half way there when she needed help from a nice lady. More phone calls and arrangements. Laura eventually arrived at her grandmother's house fine and dandy. My kids loved their grandparents, Paul's parents and mine.
My first adventure was told to me as I grew up. When I was a toddler using a walker we lived one half block from my Coronado grandparents. Well my parents must have turned their backs on me and I headed up the hill and across the street to my grandparents' house. Now days this is busy third street, but in those days there was no traffic, thankfully. Families have had stories to share through the centuries and we add our stories to share with the next generations.
Some stories are too sensitive to remember and to share, but they also help to make us what we are. God knows these stories as He knows all about us and He cares for us as a mother hen cares for her chicks under her wings. We can go to the shelter of the Lord's wings. Under His wings I will abide. Safely abide forever.
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