Roger’s Remembrances

A small one-story farmhouse about a mile west of Partridge, Kansas, became my birthplace on November 3, 1918. My parents were Nell Marie Botkin Ghormley and John Raymond Ghormley. I had one brother, Robert Clyde, four years older. I have no recollection of the farm, since our family moved to Hutchinson when I was about a year or so o ld (?). I never did get around to asking just when it was. (One of my many failings was not asking my folks about history while I had the chance. There’s now no one left who knows.)

Dad took a job as a clerk with the Colladay Hardware company, a wholesale dealer. The Colladays were members at First Presbyterian Church, though I don’t know if that had anything to do with Dads getting a job there.

After moving to Hutch, we lived a short time in a house on east 11th street, then moved to the only house I remember — 506 East Ninth — where Dad and Mom lived until they died, 1954 and 1956 respectively. In later years all of my kids have been by to see 506, the scene of many fond remembrances. Though my very first recollection is not of 506 —

My very first recollection (of anything) is of an event which happened on a trip we made to Colorado with Aunt Jessie and Uncle Ernest. From the snapshot (to the right: Dad, Bob, Roger, Cousin Jeanne Murphy) I guess I must have been about 2 years old. I remember being held while drinking out of a folding drinking cup from a mountain stream tumbling down over rocks. I don’t recall being scared, but I can still see it in my mind’s eye. (I’m pretty sure Mom did once tell me just how old I was, but can’t recall.) One of the family picture albums (Bob’s kids may have it) has several shots of Colorado vacation(s) involving the Murphys (Aunt Jessie) and our family.

My earliest recollection of 506 is of standing at the end of the kitchen cabinet and leaning against the wall and watching Mom roll out dough, probably for a pie. She told me later that we talked of what I would do when I went to school. We may have talked about my problem of non-clear speech. Earlier in this document (Page 6 in “1914 Models” of AUNT ETHEL) Aunt Ethel mentions my concern over this, and how school will help. I have a very vague recollection of being teased (probably by Bob) about my speech.

Mom took me to my first movie when I was just a few years old. I can dimly recall a kerosene lantern being broken and setting a house on fire. I was scared. I don’t remember whether Mom got me quieted down or we had to leave the theater. And then there was the Ferris wheel —-

I can’t remember the event, but Mom later told me of it. She took me on the Ferris Wheel at the Fair. A few seconds into the ride I started screaming and trying to get out of the seat. Mom had a real time keeping me in until the seat finally got around to the start and the man let us out. Even so, in later years I enjoyed riding the Ferris Wheel.

I can recall sleeping in a iron-barred crib in the north bedroom at 506. I still remember thinking how much shorter the night time was than day time. Later on I graduated to a twin bed. Bob and I used these as long as we were still both at 506, except when we slept on the sleeping porch.

Bob and I both were bed wetters. We had a few “sessions” with a chiropractor up on Plum street, but I don’t think it did any good. I finally got around to consistently dry beds about 7th grade. The blankets hanging out on the clothes line to dry were a source of embarrassment to me with the neighbor kids.

My early days were happy and secure. I never did stop to wonder whether or not I was happy or secure or loved. It was many years later that I came to realize just how blessed I had been.