This time of year always calls upon a memory of mine. A little girl from 30 years ago awakes in me and her body gets dug up again and again. I don't remember her name. Lisa, Jennifer... one of those 1970's names. The crisp fall air, the sounds of kids playing outside, the noise of a helicopter nearing, then leaving, then nearing again. Where is Lisa? Anyone....anyone....where is Lis-- and then nothing.
It happened while my cousin and I were playing "Love Boat" (I was Vicki, she was Julie) in her backyard in Connecticut. My how our imaginations worked back then! All there was: a field, a bunch of trees, a garden of some sort. But we turned it into a luxury ocean liner on its way to Alcupulco, ready and filled with guests from all over the world. My brother would skimper his way to the back yard, and he was suddenly Gopher. Or Isaac. Didn't matter, he never stayed around long enough to play.
We were trying to solve some water bound problem of one of our guests when we heard the helicopters in the distance. This was a foreign noise to the sleepy town. A town that had one flashing light in the one intersection on the one main road. Fump, fump, fump, fump, fump. We shaded our eyes to the sun, looking to see where this noise was coming from, where it was heading. Suddenly, over the tops of the trees, the helicopter. We waved, jumping up and down...hoping that the people on board could see us! Maybe they would land and tell us what they were doing! They were so low to the ground...maybe they were looking for something fun to do! WE were fun!! Wait for us!!!!!!!!!
Fump fump fump fump fum.......off they went. We stood with our eyes still shaded. Looking towards the dying sound. But then...the sound started getting closer again! They are coming back! We ran inside this time -- surely our Moms would want to witness this extravagant event! A helicopter wanting to land in our story land backyard. We told our Moms, they looked out the window at the returning copter. They exchanged glances. We were so excited...they were not.
"Girls. That helicopter is looking for a little girl who has been lost." Lost? What? Like can't find her way home (like I got lost in Jamesway and the nice lady lead me out of the sock isle and stood by me like a soldier whilst calling "if you are missing your little girl wearing a blue shirt please come to Guest Services" over the mushy sounding speakers)? My cousin and I suddenly are not wanting the Helicopter to land. We want it to find the little girl. WE want to find the little girl. We went looking.
For what seemed like hours we went looking, but probably was only a few minutes. We sunk the Love Boat, put on our hiking boots and searched for Lisa or Jennifer. We couldn't find her in the area of our house. Poor girl. Poor poor girl. How we wished she had wandered into our yard and we could help her get home.
It happened while my cousin and I were playing "Love Boat" (I was Vicki, she was Julie) in her backyard in Connecticut. My how our imaginations worked back then! All there was: a field, a bunch of trees, a garden of some sort. But we turned it into a luxury ocean liner on its way to Alcupulco, ready and filled with guests from all over the world. My brother would skimper his way to the back yard, and he was suddenly Gopher. Or Isaac. Didn't matter, he never stayed around long enough to play.
We were trying to solve some water bound problem of one of our guests when we heard the helicopters in the distance. This was a foreign noise to the sleepy town. A town that had one flashing light in the one intersection on the one main road. Fump, fump, fump, fump, fump. We shaded our eyes to the sun, looking to see where this noise was coming from, where it was heading. Suddenly, over the tops of the trees, the helicopter. We waved, jumping up and down...hoping that the people on board could see us! Maybe they would land and tell us what they were doing! They were so low to the ground...maybe they were looking for something fun to do! WE were fun!! Wait for us!!!!!!!!!
Fump fump fump fump fum.......off they went. We stood with our eyes still shaded. Looking towards the dying sound. But then...the sound started getting closer again! They are coming back! We ran inside this time -- surely our Moms would want to witness this extravagant event! A helicopter wanting to land in our story land backyard. We told our Moms, they looked out the window at the returning copter. They exchanged glances. We were so excited...they were not.
"Girls. That helicopter is looking for a little girl who has been lost." Lost? What? Like can't find her way home (like I got lost in Jamesway and the nice lady lead me out of the sock isle and stood by me like a soldier whilst calling "if you are missing your little girl wearing a blue shirt please come to Guest Services" over the mushy sounding speakers)? My cousin and I suddenly are not wanting the Helicopter to land. We want it to find the little girl. WE want to find the little girl. We went looking.
For what seemed like hours we went looking, but probably was only a few minutes. We sunk the Love Boat, put on our hiking boots and searched for Lisa or Jennifer. We couldn't find her in the area of our house. Poor girl. Poor poor girl. How we wished she had wandered into our yard and we could help her get home.
They did end up finding her (we found out the next morning). She had drowned in a grain silo a few towns over. I couldn't comprehend how someone could drown with no water involved. Since then, I have always looked at silos as nothing but dangerous and foreboding. But beautiful nonetheless.
I think of the little girl this time of year. She has been living with me for the last thirty years, this Jennifer, Lisa. We never saw another helicopter fly so close to my cousin's yard after that day they found the girl's body. Yet, somehow, I never stopped looking for her...
I think of the little girl this time of year. She has been living with me for the last thirty years, this Jennifer, Lisa. We never saw another helicopter fly so close to my cousin's yard after that day they found the girl's body. Yet, somehow, I never stopped looking for her...
1 comment:
i have no idea how your memory can be so intact. i want that gene... why did you get it all?
i remember the final event, the little girl drowning in the silo... but until i read your post i had no memory of everything else that took place on that day. as i was reading though, it all came back. wow.
and you know what? i look at silos the same way. damn silos.
i'm so glad you are writing here again. xoxo
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