Moving to Salt Lake City at age 7

     A light snow fell as my father drove our 1948 Chevy from Albuquerque to Salt Lake City.  The windshield wipers swished the snow back and forth. I was mesmerized watching the snow fly at us. The wipers pushed the snowflakes from side to side. My little brother, Ricky, and I played with little cars in the back.  My mother held our youngest brother, John, in her lap. After what seemed like hours, I stood up and crawled onto the shelf behind the back seats, laid down and stared at the gray sky. I enjoyed the soft massage of the road on my back.

     My father parked the car behind my grandparent’s house, next to the coal chute as the sun’s glow disappeared. I got out of the car and ran up the long wooden stairway into the kitchen. The aromas of red chili, freshly made four tortillas and coffee filled the air. My grandfather picked me up and gave me a big hug while rubbing his prickly cheeks against mine. He put me down and hugged my mother. My young aunts and uncles crowded into the kitchen to hug my mother and to look at us. 

     My aunt Lourdes (19 years old) took me down into the basement to her bedroom next to the big black coal fired boiler. It had black pipes that made it look like an octopus that was feeling the ceiling looking for an opening through which to grab someone.Lourdes told me that I would be sleeping with her that night. She pulled out the white chamber pot from under her bed and told me I could use it if I needed to pee in the night.

     The day after Christmas, my parents drove to California. They left me behind. I held onto my grandmother's hand as I watched my family drive away. I went from being the oldest of three children in my family to being the youngest of six in my grandparent’s house. I did not address my aunts and uncles with their proper title because they were so close to my own age. I was seven, Lola was eight and Manuel was nine. Anslemo was eleven and to me Florinda was almost an adult at age 12.

     Manuel He had the biggest comic collection I’d ever seen. And he had a ton of marbles. He had cat eyes, and big steelees. He taught me how to shoot the marbles with my thumb. He was a good shooter. 
     Grant elementary school was right across the street from my grandparent’s house. Lola walked with me to my new 2^nd grade classroom and introduced me to Mrs. Johnson. When class started Mrs. Johnson introduced me as the most handsome boy she’s ever seen. That was not a good thing. At the first recess, Cecilia and Marcella chased me, knocked me down in the snow and kissed me. I was so embarrassed.