Paul's Memory Book

The Never-Ending Memorybook Summary

This corner of the website is my place—Paul's place—to gather memories as they drift back to me. Some are clear, some are fading around the edges, and a few reach all the way back to the summer of 1947. As I move further into what people politely call "old age," I find those early recollections becoming a little softer, a little fuzzier—but no less worth saving.

Memories have a funny way of arriving unannounced. They show up in the middle of the night, in the shower, while driving, or at some completely ordinary moment when the past suddenly taps me on the shoulder. When that happens, I jot them down, add a few important details, and come back later to fill in the story.

So what you'll find here is a living collection: some pieces finished, some half-finished, and some little more than a beginning. That's why I call it my "Never-Ending Memorybook."

Who is it for?

Well, I hope my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will care. And maybe someday, when they wonder where they came from, they'll find a little bit of me here waiting for them.

I was born in 1944, on what I'm told was a cold day in Los Angeles—which already sounds suspicious, because "cold" in Los Angeles usually means someone had to put on socks.

Mom and Dad had to drive from West Los Angeles all the way to Los Angeles County Hospital, which was a pretty good trip even back in the glorious, traffic-less days of 1944. According to MapQuest, it would take about 43 minutes today with light traffic—which, in Los Angeles, is roughly the same odds as spotting a unicorn using a turn signal.

Dad probably planned ahead, because in 1944 traffic was minimal, gas was cheap, and people still believed they could get somewhere on time.
I

made my grand entrance at 4:03 in the afternoon—apparently considerate enough not to arrive during rush hour, though knowing L.A., rush hour probably hadn't been invented yet.

Back then, the population of Los Angeles was about 1,504,277. Today it's around 4,000,000—which explains why the same drive now takes 45 minutes with no traffic, 2 hours with traffic, and three emotional breakdowns if there's a Dodgers game.

The Battle of the Bulge (16 December 1944 – 25 January 1945) was the last major German offensive campaign on the Western Front during World War II. In December , the Germans attempted to surprise the Allied armies as they traveled through the Ardennes. The German objective was to split the Allies up in a surprise attack.

The battle began on December 16th and continued until late January of 1945. (My Battle of the Buldge began when I turned 60 and has been underway every since!)

As the Allies regrouped to fight back against the German attack, the line of defense took on the shape of a bulge, hence the name "Battle of the Bulge." The Allies were caught off guard in the attack and tens of thousands of soldiers were lost in fierce fighting (estimated up to 100,000 casualties) during what was considered the bloodiest battle of World War II for the United States. Despite the losses the Allies were successful in neutralizing the German offensive and preventing Germany from recapturing Antwerp. As well as massively depleting German fuel and supply reserves.

We have several areas on our website that deal with our memories. One of those is a site dealing only with the 1950's which were the best of times. 

DooWop music was alive and well in the 1950's so please listen to some good old acapella singing.

Old Fashioned Radio (The Golden Years Of Radio) are our favorites.  It is too bad people can't slow down enough, sit back and enjoy when life was simple and fun!  Sue and I still listed to them today on the XM Radio Oldies channel!