Wandering spirit puts down roots in Vancouver

After moving often as a child, woman finally puts brakes on trend

I celebrated a milestone recently. It may be a rather odd one, but a milestone is a milestone, and for me it’s pretty impressive. On Sept. 18, I was in the same residence for 11 years and five months. On Sept. 19, I officially was in this house longer than I had lived anywhere else. Pretty good for me.

In March 1946, I was born in Eugene, Ore. My parents had been in that area for most of their lives but after I came on the scene that changed quickly. By December, we were in North Bend on the Oregon coast. Then my dad opened up the Western Auto store in Newport, and from early 1948 to mid-1951 we lived in four different houses in Newport. My dad sold that business and we spent the summer in Canyonville before moving to Albany (two houses), Corvallis and then to Grants Pass. We lived in two places there. One was in the back of a roadside cafe south of town and the other was in the city.

Knowing my mother as I did later, I’m not so sure she was cut out for the cafe life. Coincidently, or maybe not, my parents separated soon after that and my dad stayed in Grants Pass for a little while longer.

Mom moved to Salem for a job and I started second grade. And then we moved. Mom was lured to Henderson, Nev., by her brothers and so off we went. This was in 1953. I have absolutely no idea how we got there. I have no memory of driving or flying or anything. We were here and then we were there. I finished up second grade in Henderson, in an area called Carver Park. The area was dusty and sandy and butted up against a wide swath of desert, and we kids would go and hunt for lizards. Mom was so thrilled. Then she decided she was not a desert person, so she headed for greener pastures in California. I went back up to stay with my dad until she got settled. Of course, he had moved to a different place by then. After our time together, he drove me down to Santa Paula, Calif., where I started third grade.

My mother got a job with Union Oil Company and we lived in a small converted garage apartment. Then she got a proper small apartment and we moved the next summer. The selling point for that place was there was a pretty good-sized wooded hill behind us and my little friends and I would traipse all over that hill, which was pretty much covered in poison oak. I did pretty well dodging it but usually had some itchy spot somewhere during the time we lived there.

In the meantime, Dad had moved to Idleyld Park, up the Umpqua River near Roseburg, Ore. So I spent summers with him. And then he remarried and moved into Roseburg. My mother wanted to live in the bigger, cooler city on the coast, so we moved 10 miles to Ventura. During the three years we lived there, my mom was in four different apartments. Are you keeping up?

More upheaval

Not long after I had started fourth grade, my mother was diagnosed with cancer and that necessitated additional upheavals. I spent the fourth, fifth and sixth grades moving back and forth due to her health issues. But that doesn’t mean I was in the same house. Oh, no. My adult caretakers in Roseburg also moved around. I can remember five different places that I lived in.

Amazingly, my mother and I managed to get me all the way through seventh and eighth grades without changing schools. And what a school I went to! Anacapa Junior High was the nicest school I’d ever attended, before or since. My mother, however, became very ill and I had to leave ninth grade a few weeks early. I ended up in Roseburg, where I finished the last two weeks at the high school. And yes, that was weird. Sadly, my mother passed away and the California years were behind me. I went on to Ashland for one year of college, then moved to Portland to attend business school. After schooling, I went off to Honolulu where I spent three years in glorious Hawaiian bliss — which involved three different residences.

Finally homesick, I returned to Portland, met my future husband, moved to his small house and then we bought the house where we stayed for over 11 years. We moved to Manzanita, Ore., for four years and then back to Portland. There were three houses in Portland before we moved to a Vancouver rental. Then we bought our current home, 11 years ago last April. Whew!

Did you keep count ? That’s in the neighborhood of almost 40 residences! I never thought I’d break my record in Vancouver, but I’m glad I did. It’s a great town, and it’s good to be home.

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