Seattle

I was in Seattle, Washington.  Once.  For part of a day in 1958.  What do I remember about it?  Nothing.  And now my family lives there.

In February of 1958, we were returning from Dad's Navy duty in Japan.  The night before we were to dock in The States (as we came to know it while living overseas), a military dependent mother of four died on board of the flu that was going around the world at that time.  We'd all had it, I think.  (Maybe Dad and my sister were spared.  I don't recall, exactly.)  It was the first time I became scared of a disease.  Sick, yes.  Die?  No!  I was full of questions and full of fear.

The next morning, early, we docked in Seattle.  We had to go through Customs, which took time.  I don't remember much about the morning except being impatient to get moving.  (My parents--mostly my mother--had to deal with all three of the impatient Covill kids.  Shari was 16; I was 10; brother Doug was 4.  Somehow, she managed!)  I believe we were taken out to eat and sightsee some, just to pass the time, then got ensconced in our hotel room.  In the early evening of that day, Mom tried to force a nap on us because, as we were to find out, it would be a looong night.  Do you have any clue how hard it is for an excited kid to sleep in what seemed like the middle of the day?  I tried.  Really, I did.  But I wasn't successful.

I remember being shocked to see painted houses again.  During our time in Japan, I had become so accustomed to the natural wood of the native homes, it was culture shock in reverse, returning to the homeland yet not remembering the little things here in The States.

My parents always made the adult decisions without the kids' knowledge.  I can't remember a single time when we were consulted about the big things.  I didn't resent it because, in those days, that was the way it was.  Children should be seen and not heard.  Worse yet, Navy children had even fewer choices because it was the Navy that determined where we were going to be at any given time.  The smaller details, the parents took care of without asking us.  That was the thinking at the time.  (Probably would be a good idea if that were still the practice of parents.)  It was decided that sister Shari and I would be flown to the grandparents in Illinois to be put back in school.  Mom and brother Doug would be put on a train for San Diego to visit Mom's sister's family until Dad could join them.  Dad would stay behind in Seattle to settle the little matter of a missing suitcase and to buy a car that he would use to drive to California to meet up with Mom and Doug before returning to Illinois to reunite us all.

I was silently terrified.  Mom and Doug were just getting over that horrible flu.  Remember the woman who died from it on board ship?  What if I never got to see my mother again?  Then, too, I'd never flown before.  Shari and I would be flying alone, and Shari didn't like me much.  What would become of us??

Along about 11:00 that night, Dad rode with us on a shuttle bus to the Seattle airport.  Dad was, of course, in uniform.  On the bus was some drunk fellow who was loud and cursing up a storm..  (I prayed he wouldn't be on our flight.  He wasn't!)  My father finally spoke up when no one else would: "Please watch your language.  There are young ladies present."  The "young ladies" were my sister and me.  To my amazement, the drunk man started falling all over himself with apologies.  Even in his condition, he was able to tone down his behavior...and my respect for my father went up a thousand-fold!

The end of this story is that Shari and I flew out of Seattle on a Viscount jet for Midway Airport in Chicago, where our grandparents met us and took us back to Streator, IL, to the family farm to enroll us in school.  It was probably a month before Mom, Dad, and Doug arrived.  (I was quite impatient about that.)  Shari and I weren't even seated together on the flight, but a nice man sat next to me and provided me with a pillow and blanket.  I tried to sleep to help the time go faster, but I couldn't.  It all worked out.  We all survived!

Thus starteth and endeth my only memories of Seattle, Washington!