A stroll down memory lane: My story of an Oregon logging family
Available on Amazon in paperback or ebook. My life coming up in the mid 1950s. This story came roaring into my brain after my story published. Argghhh Grandma was a teacher and she drove the 18 miles from Powers to Myrtle Point every school day. It’s a pretty drive on a narrow road that hugs the hillside high above the snaking south fork of the Coquille River, past high pastures and a few scattered houses. One day there went Ethel on her morning commute when she noticed “Howard Post” boldly painted on a large rock embedded in the hillside. She kept going and there was another one. Then another one. For a stretch of several miles young master Howard took it into his adolescent brain to spray paint his name on many, many exposed boulders in the hillside. My grandmother’s solution to this embarrassment was to buy her own can of spray paint and on the way home that day, wearing a dress, (she wore only dresses then,) she...