Time Revisited

It’s strange that my first memory, at about the age of three, is sitting at our kitchen table watching my family pack our things to move from our farm to our new home in Ashville, Pa. So strange because it now seems destined that my childhood would be one of constant moves from that time until the day I married in 1939. I have very few memories of my life on that farm, but the love of the outdoors was certainly instilled in me for I have always loved mountains, fresh air, farmhouses and anything else reminiscent of those few short years. I made my appearance into this world on October 3, l9l8, the 9th child of my parents, Eugene E. McCarty and Sarah McCabe McCarty. Mother had a difficult time in childbirth, having been told by Dr. Krumbine after the delivery of my brother, that it would be fatal to have another pregnancy. Living proof of his incorrect diagnosis is sitting here typing this memoir in 2007. I suppose there was a reason that I came into the world, but you can judge it better after you read these memoirs. My mother told me that I was a beautiful baby with hazel eyes, black hair and dimples the size of a dime which, fortunately for me, have stayed with me all my life; if a bit shrunken by now. Since there were two boys after my sister, Agnes, I think my Mother was ready for a girl and she was probably prejudiced about my beauty. My brothers and sisters were excited to have a little sister and they all spoiled me terribly. At 89 years old, it still shows.