My first home was a small, four room, house, built into a hill, on a quarter acre of land, in Stamford, CT.  My father bought the house with a mortgage financed by the GI Bill, after World War II.  It cost him $1,400, 1949

I did a post about Stamford, here .

I shared a bedroom with my sister, Lynn, who was three years older than me, and my dog Buttons.  Buttons was a better roommate than my sister.  🙂   

When Lynn turned 13, and “needed” her own room, I slept on the convertible couch in our living room.

My mother had a heart condition, and spent much of her life in her bedroom, the only air conditioned room in the house, or the hospital.

When my mother was in the hospital, I went to live with my father’s parents, also in Stamford, and my sister went to live with my mother’s father in Maine.

As you can see we weren’t a close knot family.  I spent as much time living with grandmother, Nell, and after she died, with my other aunt’s and uncles, as I did in my father’s house.

Our house was the first one built in a wooded area, with a farm on the other side of the street.  There was only a two lane road, which had almost no traffic.  Me and Buttons could run all over the woods.  Now it’s still a two lane road, but, with the rush hour traffic, you won’t see any children playing outside their own yards.

My only neighbors as a child were the farmer, and deer.  The farm is now condos, and the street is filled with houses.

I don’t have many happy memories of growing up to share with you, other than the time spent with Buttons, and my grandmother.

There was the hurricane, and floods, of 1955, which I have talked about in another post, here .

When I graduated from high school, in 1961, and got my first full time job, I moved into my own apartment.  I loved living on my own, as I still do.  When I drive by the house in Stamford I don’t feel any nostalgia.  It’s just another house on the street.


I am interested in hearing about the first home you lived in.