Monthly Holiday Writing
As most of you know, I teach a memoir writing class to seniors at a retirement facility. Each month I give them a prompt for each session and they share their work with their fellow writers. This last week I gave them a list of several "holidays" in the month of February: There are more holidays than just Valentines Day and Presidents Day after all.
For my own sharing, I chose Ferris Wheel Day, February 14. That reached out to me because it brings out a memory that goes back to 1944 when I was four. My aunt had come to live with us while her husband was in the Army; he fought in the Battle of the Bulge and I can still remember how worried she was when she didn't receive a letter for many weeks at a time. Anyway, she was a great aunt and, having no children of her own, she "adopted" me as her own during those years.
Aunt Margie's in-laws lived in Texas City, Texas, about thirty miles from our home. She often took me on the bus with her to visit them; we always stayed for a few days and had a great time. Her in-laws treated me like a favorite granddaughter and I loved the attention. On one of these trips, she took me to a county fair—my very first visit to one. I loved everything about it—the animals, the exhibits, and the midway with all the barkers attempting to draw you in to pay to play their games. Or ride their exciting pieces of magic machinery.
We rode the Tilt-a-Whirl. We rode the Carousel. But my eye was on that huge Ferris wheel towering over the entire fair. I insisted I wanted to ride that one. My aunt tried to discourage me, told me I wouldn't like it, that it was really high up there, that once on I couldn't get off. And I insisted that was the one I needed to ride! She gave in.
Do I need to tell you that it was fun going up but when the chair rose to the top and we sat there swaying back and forth and I looked down on the tiny world below me, I was absolutely petrified. I wanted off. And, as she had warned, there was no way to get off that thing. I began to cry. She couldn't console me. The more I cried, the higher the terror rose in my throat until it came out in a loud wail.
My aunt tried to soothe me. She tried to calm me down. She reverted to something she never did, she threatened to spank me if I didn't shut up. I didn't care what she did once we were off that thing, I wanted off—NOW! I made such a ruckus, the operator let us off as soon as we got back to earth. My aunt didn't spank me, but she was certainly ticked off at me.
Over the years, as a teenager and later as an adult, the Ferris Wheel day became a joke between us. She and her husband had moved to Washington, DC after the war where my uncle had a government job. Later they lived in Virginia, and in each place we visited often. When she proposed we go to some historical sight, I would always say, "Just as long as it doesn't have a Ferris Wheel."
I have never been on a Ferris Wheel since that day. Something about that experience stuck in my psyche and I have never wanted to try it again. I have ridden huge roller coasters across the country, have flown on rings at the Munich Octoberfest, and have zipped through all the rides at Disneyland and Disney World but never a Ferris Wheel has attempted me.
Why not check out some of these "odd or different" holidays each month, pick one, and write about it. It might stimulate you to check each month out--and there must be a market for one of your brilliant pieces.
For my own sharing, I chose Ferris Wheel Day, February 14. That reached out to me because it brings out a memory that goes back to 1944 when I was four. My aunt had come to live with us while her husband was in the Army; he fought in the Battle of the Bulge and I can still remember how worried she was when she didn't receive a letter for many weeks at a time. Anyway, she was a great aunt and, having no children of her own, she "adopted" me as her own during those years.
Aunt Margie's in-laws lived in Texas City, Texas, about thirty miles from our home. She often took me on the bus with her to visit them; we always stayed for a few days and had a great time. Her in-laws treated me like a favorite granddaughter and I loved the attention. On one of these trips, she took me to a county fair—my very first visit to one. I loved everything about it—the animals, the exhibits, and the midway with all the barkers attempting to draw you in to pay to play their games. Or ride their exciting pieces of magic machinery.
We rode the Tilt-a-Whirl. We rode the Carousel. But my eye was on that huge Ferris wheel towering over the entire fair. I insisted I wanted to ride that one. My aunt tried to discourage me, told me I wouldn't like it, that it was really high up there, that once on I couldn't get off. And I insisted that was the one I needed to ride! She gave in.
Do I need to tell you that it was fun going up but when the chair rose to the top and we sat there swaying back and forth and I looked down on the tiny world below me, I was absolutely petrified. I wanted off. And, as she had warned, there was no way to get off that thing. I began to cry. She couldn't console me. The more I cried, the higher the terror rose in my throat until it came out in a loud wail.
My aunt tried to soothe me. She tried to calm me down. She reverted to something she never did, she threatened to spank me if I didn't shut up. I didn't care what she did once we were off that thing, I wanted off—NOW! I made such a ruckus, the operator let us off as soon as we got back to earth. My aunt didn't spank me, but she was certainly ticked off at me.
Over the years, as a teenager and later as an adult, the Ferris Wheel day became a joke between us. She and her husband had moved to Washington, DC after the war where my uncle had a government job. Later they lived in Virginia, and in each place we visited often. When she proposed we go to some historical sight, I would always say, "Just as long as it doesn't have a Ferris Wheel."
I have never been on a Ferris Wheel since that day. Something about that experience stuck in my psyche and I have never wanted to try it again. I have ridden huge roller coasters across the country, have flown on rings at the Munich Octoberfest, and have zipped through all the rides at Disneyland and Disney World but never a Ferris Wheel has attempted me.
Why not check out some of these "odd or different" holidays each month, pick one, and write about it. It might stimulate you to check each month out--and there must be a market for one of your brilliant pieces.
posted by Barb | 9:02 PM
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