English Vacation 1950

English Vacation 1950

My first trip to England was in 1950. My mother was born in England and her parents, brother, and sisters lived there, so it was only natural that we visit them.

I was about two and my sister Judy was newly born. Mom told me we took the train to New York and departed for Southampton on the Queen Mary. We left New York on October 14, 1950 and arrived in Southampton 5 days later. There is a picture of us on board in the chapter, “What was your Mom like when you were a child?” We stayed for six months and I think we spent most of the time at my grandparents house on Lincoln Road in Peterborough. Most of the photos that survive were taken there. That section of town was called Walton.

A couple of blocks from the house there was a level crossing. This was an intersection of a train track and a road. At that time there were big gates that swung out and crossed the Marholm Road to prevent cars crossing. Most of the time they were swung back, blocking the tracks since the trains weren’t coming anyway. Perhaps they folded all the way around to lay flat against the railroad fence. I don’t remember perfectly. At this time I think the crossing guard had to open and close the gates by hand. In later years when we were there the process was all done automatically. The reason I described this is that my earliest memory comes from this time. I remember a number of other kids and I running to the crossing gates and climbing up on them to see the train better. See the chapter “What were your grandparents like?” to see a view of the level crossing.

My Auntie Barbara said she baby sat us a lot and that both Judy and I arrived with whooping cough, Judy having it a little worse than I did. I wonder how we got through Immigration. Auntie Barbara said she helped potty train me. I think that part of the enthusiasm to do that was because she slept with us and I was a bed wetter. Recently I had occasion to thank her for her efforts. I explained that it has come in handy over the years. A friend joked, “If you see a toilet in a dream, do NOT use it.” She also said she worked at Boots at the time. She used to bring things home to me. She said it didn’t matter what, a piece of paper, anything. I would always greet her with “What you gotta me, Auntie Barbara, what you gotta me?” I love getting presents.

There is also another story, perhaps a little confused at this late date and with no one but myself to confirm it. It seems that I locked myself in the ship’s state room and that there was an open porthole. Mom was frantic when she realized it. But she coaxed me over to the door and slowly walked me through how to unlock it. All was now right in the world. At least on the ocean liner.

Mom said we came home on the Queen Elizabeth and flew from New York to Iowa on the plane and that “Dad” paid for it. I thought that was a curious thing to say. It never occurred that she meant anything but my father. Of course, she meant her father paid for it. Can you imagine tending 2 wriggly toddlers and six pieces of luggage on a five day sea voyage and then however long it took to get from New York to Des Moines, Iowa, on the train? No wonder he paid the air fare for her.

This post is part of the StoryWorth project that I am participating in.
At the ButchieBoy main page click the “StoryWorth” category to see the rest of the entries.