Locking your doors

It was early September 1969. I had arrived in Chicago and after spending a couple of days with my aunt and uncle, they drove me down to Dolton, a suburb of Chicago, to spend some time with my grandparents. My grandparents lived by the Dolton Park and when I was younger I and my brothers and sisters used to enjoy visiting them because we could play on the park playground.

After spending the night in the small upstairs bedroom, I woke up early and decided to take a walk in the park. So I got up and quietly walked down the stairs and let myself out of the front door. I walked around the park, sat in the swings, listened to the birds and all the other city noise, such as the sound of the cars, buses, and trucks braking for traffic signals. I found all this exciting; after all I would be starting DeVry the next week. Also coming from the country most of these sounds were all new to me.

I didn't have a watch with me and had no idea what time it was when I left my grandparent's house. However, after what seemed to me to be a long time I walked back to the house. Imagine my surprise when I walked up the front steps to their house and found that the front door was locked. Back home in Kansas we never locked anything. We would leave our cars running while we went into the store to make a quick purchase. So there I was on an early September morning sitting on my grandparents front steps waiting for them to wake up. Once again I have no idea how long I waited, but it was quite a while before I heard them stirring. To this day, I can see my Grandpa's surprised look when he opened the front door to my knock.

That morning along with breakfast, I received my first of many talks from Grandpa and Grandma about being and staying safe. What memories I have.

I like to think of memories and treat memories the same way one would think of old family photos. They are fun to take out, dust off, and enjoy before putting them back on the closet shelf to await the next time you get them down.