I am sure that many significant things have happened on January 3rd, but the one most important to me was my birth on this day. One day I was looking for some photos of the old cotton mills from Huntsville, Alabama, and ran across a site that also had a vintage post card of the City Hospital. This is the way I remember the hospital when I was a kid.
My parents lived in the New Hope area when I was born. About three years later we moved to Harvest, a rural community with a population of about 200. I attended a four-room school for the first 8 years of schooling. There were 2 grades in each room with one teacher. When I was about 10 years of age I was back in the hospital overnight to have a tonsillectomy.
Little could I have imagined in those formative years that I would be able to travel around the world (1995), and to many diverse and exotic places. I don’t even remember when I first learned about China or Egypt or Russia. There was no State of Israel back then, only a Zionist dream. My first remembrance of hearing about Japan was on December 7, 1941, the day of the infamous attack on Pearl Harbor.
I wish my Mother, now 94, could still remember this day in our history.
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