I was born in the Panama Canal Zone on May 5, 1933 at Colon Hospital to Norine and Louis Kaufer. Since the hospital was just over the border of the Canal Zone, the land it stood on was territory belonging to Panama making me a Panamanian citizen. As soon as my mother got out of the hospital she raced down to the American Embassy and registered me as an American citizen.

My mother was born in Medina, Wisconsin on December 20, 1901 and my dad was born in Red Lake Falls, Minnesota on February 1, 1897. They didn't meet until circumstances brought them both to the Panama Canal Zone about 1921. They worked in the same office at adjacent desks in a crowded office, no cubicles. My dad was an accountant and my mom was a clerk of some kind.

My father had come to Panama at the family doctor's advice to take his ailing mother (Molly Duffy) to a warmer climate. She had been ill for many years with an ailment (probably asthma or another respiratory disease). Her husband, Louis, Sr. stayed behind in Riviera, Texas, with son Leo and daughter Bernice. After a short courtship which consisted mostly of short visits to Norine's house sitting on the porch drinking lemonade under the watchful eye of Peter Hall, Norine's father.

Norine and Louis were married at the Catholic Church in Colon on July 13, 1922 and repeated the ceremony again in the Canal Zone at the court house. They sailed on the United Fruit ship to New Orleans where they rented a small apartment and Louis sold vacuum cleaners door-to-door with Norine as his assistant. Molly stayed in the Canal Zone with her daughter, Bernice who by this time was living in the Canal Zone in the government quarters and working at a job close by.

Norine and Louis’s first child, Jane Bernice, was born in New Orleans on January 9, 1924. The economy was faltering at this time and vacuum cleaners were hard to sell. They decided to move back to the Canal Zone where Louis got his old job back at the Dry Dock Division at Mt. Hope. Norine was expecting another baby and Theodore "Ted" Louis was born in Gorgas Hospital on October 20, 1925.

When Norine went into labor with me, Louis rushed her to the hospital only to find that her doctor, Dr. Wayne Gilder, was not in town but was in Balboa at a meeting. When the message was received, the doc jumped on the train where he was met by Louis at the train station in Colon and the two of them rode in Louis's car to the hospital just in the nick of time. Norine was so happy to see him that she said "If it's a boy, we'll name him Wayne."

The first house I lived in was in New Cristobal on Margarita St. The neighborhood was full of kids of every age. We were all hanging out in the street or our front porch most of the time when we weren't in school. The parents had a system where the older kids watched over the younger ones especially on the walk to school which was only about three blocks away. Sylvia Austin was sort of my guardian. She lived two doors away and her parents agreed for Sylvia to walk to school every day with me and Karen Saum. Karen and I were both first graders. Mr. Austin was a cop, by the way.

My brother Ted was 14 at this time. He hung out with the other teenage boys while they played softball in the street in front of our house. The let us younger kids watch, but made us keep our distance.

Our high point of the day was when the ice cream truck came around and we would all run to our respective houses for a nickel (which bought a frozen sucker which was like a Popsicle

or a dime for an Eskimo pie).

None of the houses were fenced so we played hide and seek and hid in the yards. Also on real hot days we put on our bathing suits and ran through the back yards of everyone's sprinklers. I had a playhouse in our backyard where I hosted tea parties with the girls my age and they brought all their dolls over. Sometimes we made mud pies to go with our tea which was only water.

My sister, Jano, was about 16 at this time and she would ride up and down the neighborhood in one of her guy friends’ cars while I perched on the running board or sometimes they would put me in the rumble seat of his car.

We lived in the house on Margarita St. until I was about seven years old then we moved to Ft. Delesseps which was a neighborhood built just outside the army post Ft. Delesseps.

We moved to a smaller house in Fort Delesseps, a one story, two bedroom house, since by this time Jano and Ted had left home to attend college. Jano attended Tulane Univ. in New Orleans and Ted attended A. & M. College in Texas. Our uncles, aunts and cousins lived in the area and he visited them quite often. In this neighborhood I made a whole new set of friends and new activities. There was a movie theater at the army post. The kids in the neighborhood went to the theater together. I remember after a scary movie like Frankenstein or ghost movies, the boys used to hide behind the bushes and jump out and scare the girls. You should have heard the screams when this happened. We also had the Washington Hotel pool, which was open to the public.

It was here that I met the Leignadier girls. They lived a block away from us, just over the Panama border. Three of the girls were close to my age, and they attended the Canal Zone govt. schools. They lived in a grand mansion which housed their family of 8 children, two grandmothers, two aunts and uncles. They invited me over to dinner many times, also to parties and to spend the night. They had about five or six full time servants who lived in the house too.

Dinner in the evening was like a banquet with about 16 people in attendance. The father demanded that his kids speak only Spanish around the house. The girls would have to whisper to me on the sly and translate what was being said. My Spanish was very limited at the time. Mr. L. was the Panamanian ambassador to Colombia, so he was gone a lot. I tried to time my visits when he wasn't there. He did know my name and always said hello to me when I was there. Of course the girls always timed their parties when he was in Colombia.

Carnival, which was equivalent to Mardi Gras, was a big event in Panama. There were parades, floats, fireworks, all-night parties and dancing till the wee hours of the morning during the four days and nights of the celebration. Most of the celebrating was done by the Panamanians, the Americans were more the spectators. I got to ride in the back of one of the trucks once in the parade, due to the influence of Mr. Leignadier. Most of the time a bunch of kids would toss confetti on the parade from the balcony of the Leignadier's house.

Another Panamanian celebration was the November 3rd Independence Day which marked Panama's independence from Colombia. Lots of bands and school kids were the main participants. Of course the Americans had our own July 4th Independence Day celebration with lots of activities such as races, weenie roasts, small train rides for the little kids, baseball games topped by fireworks after dark. You might be surprised to know that Grandma Norine won first or second prize for most of the women's running races well into her fifties.

There were lots of organizations in the Canal Zone to join such as the American Legion, Veterans of Foreign War, the Masons, Knight of Columbus, the Women's Club (who did charitable work), the Demolays and Rainbow Girls, counterparts of the Masons. My mom, Norine belonged to several card clubs. During the second world war (194l to 1944) my dad was the Civilian Defense Chief, a volunteer position to make sure everyone observed the rules set down by the army for keeping the civilians safe. I delivered bulletins to the people in our neighborhood. I was also used as a model for the adults to learn first aid. We all learned how to put on a splint on an arm or leg, how to stop bleeding with a tourniquet. We had air raid drills when the sirens were turned on for a short time and every house had to turn off all their lights for a few minutes. There was a constant worry that the Germans might try to bomb the Panama Canal but that never happened.

When I was eight years old, my mom took me on a trip to visit Jano in Austin, Texas where she was attending her second year of college. We stayed in Texas about a month and took a side trip to see my dad's relatives in Riviera, Texas. Uncle Leo, my dad's brother and his wife Aunt Fronie had two daughters, Bobbi and Jeanie, who were a little older than me. Aunt Bernice, my dad's sister and her husband, Uncle Ramsey had two sons, Jackie and "little Leo", who was younger than me and Jackie was older. We had a great time there. My mom put me in the third grade class at the local elementary school where I was the center of attention because they had never met anyone from a foreign country and who talked without a southern accent. The town of Riviera was very small what you might call a "one-horse" town. The population was probably about 85 people, so everyone knew everyone else. Uncle Leo threw a big barbecue in the street and invited the whole town to come. He had some of the local musicians entertain everyone with some lively country music and there were some organized games for all the kids. The food was fabulous. A lot of it was made by the wives of the firemen. A few of the other families had us over for dinner on the days that followed. Such friendly hospitable people. When we went to a restaurant, the waitress or waiter would hold the door open for you and say "y'all come back now."

Back to Austin (capital of Texas) where Jano and her roommate showed us around the town. One day we went to the Barnum & Bailey circus. That was a treat for me because I had never seen a circus. I was fascinated by the aerialists, also the clowns and the elephants which I had never seen in Panama.

Jano stayed in Texas for a third year of school and then graduated with a degree at age 19. She returned to the CZ and was hired as an accountant at the Navy base where she met her future husband, Jim Cochrane, and the rest is history.

Ted attended his first year at Texas A. & M. College and then enlisted in the army and was shipped to Okinawa. We didn't see him again for two years, but he arrived home safely much to the family's relief. After a few months he decided to continue his college education at Texas A. & I. which was only a few miles away from the relatives. They had him over almost every weekend and he had a great time with the cousins.

My mom took me to dance lessons when I was four years old, and I loved learning ballet from my teacher Recelia Fry. This is where I met Jane Compton who would become my best friend all through elementary school and high school. We got to dress up in beautiful costumes and put on shows in any theater that was available for parents and friends to attend. After two years of lessons with Mrs. Fry, I took classes from Stella Boggs because several of my friends from grade school took lessons there. We taught acrobats, ballet and tap and put on many shows at the Stranger's Club, a popular gathering place for Canal Zone residents.

I saw Stella Boggs at my 50th high school in 2001 in Orlando, Florida. She was in her mid-80's then and looked lovely in a pollera, the native costume of Panama and performed a native Panamanian dance with a male partner.

Jane and I wanted to take piano lessons with the same teacher. We started with Professor Cardona from the music institute in Panama City. He traveled 50 miles each way to give piano lessons at the local church. Neither one of us liked him because he was so strict and would yell at us in Spanish when we weren't playing correctly. Jane and I were supposed to play a duet at the upcoming recital. We messed it up pretty bad at the rehearsal. The professor grabbed the book and threw it down on the floor, and said we couldn't play in the recital because we didn't practice enough and we left the room in tears. He later had the pastor of the church come to my house and also Jane's house and offer an apology to our parents and us from the professor, but the damage was already done and we never went back to him. We found a new teacher named Mrs. Lincoln, a very kind and patient teacher. What a contrast!!

When I was 12 my parents and I moved to a 2-story house with 3 bedrooms right on the beach. Coincidentally Jane lived two doors down the street, so we became even closer friends. By this time Jano and Ted kept popping back in to stay. Jano had a job at the naval base and was dating Jim Cochrane and Ted had a government job too so we needed the bigger house. We still lived close to the Leignadiers, and close to the Washington Hotel pool, we couldn't swim in the ocean there because it was polluted, but we had a cool breeze from the ocean.

Girl Scouts was an important part of my life. At age seven I joined the Brownies then went on to join the Girl Scouts at age 10 until age 12.

I was proud of the badges I earned while I was a scout which were sewn on a banner that I wore across my shoulder over my uniform. To earn a badge, you had to complete each step given in the Girl Scout handbook and have a parent or other adult sign to verify it. For instance, for the cooking badge I made cookies and brought them to the meeting to share with the other scouts. For a main dish I made a rice and vegetable casserole which my parents ate for dinner without complaint. The nature badge requirements were to collect leaves from different plants, then labeling and mounting them in a scrapbook. For the photography badge, I took pictures of people in different occupations around my town where I lived with my Brownie box camera and mounted them in a book with appropriate captions.

My first and only camping experience in the summer of 1945 where we stayed in some abandoned army barracks that had been fixed up somewhat for what was supposed to be for a period of two weeks.

The first surprise of the day when we arrived was the lack of privacy in the bathroom. The stalls had no doors on them!! We found some blankets in a closet, so managed to hang them up in front of the toilets to provide a small measure o privacy. There was nothing we could do about the communal shower which was one big room with shower heads lining the walls. After a couple of days everyone got over their modesty.

We slept on cots and had to make the beds daily, sweep the floor and clean the bathrooms, tasks most of us didn't do at home since we all had maids.

During the day we did lots of interesting things such as taking hikes in the jungle and learning about wildlife and plants. We could go swimming in the large pool in our free time. One night we cooked a meal over an open fire which consisted of cubes of beef, potatoes, and vegetables wrapped in foil. It turned out well, but I think we were all happy that the rest of the meals were prepared by professional cooks. After dark we sat around the campfire telling stories and roasting marshmallows.

Camp was cut short by three days when news of the signing of the World War 2 armistice came through. First we screamed with joy, jumping up and down and hugging each other, then we grabbed pots and pans from the kitchen and started banging on them with whatever we could find. I was especially thrilled with the news because I knew my brother would be coming home from Okinawa. We were all sent home that day.

It was a summer to remember.

You could always tell when Christmas was close the day your Christmas tree was dropped off in your driveway. Orders had to be placed several months before as they were shipped from the U.S.and then transferred to trucks and delivered to the individual houses.

We could hardly wait for my dad to come home from work so he could get started on the stand for the tree and also the frustrating task of getting a whole string of lights working at one time. If one bulb was out, the whole string would go out and then you would have to figure out which one was the bad bulb. My brother and I would then hang up all the ornaments. We stuck Jano with putting on the silver tinsel because she wanted each strand to be hung separately.

One tradition that we had in the Canal Zone was that most people opened their homes to the neighbors the week before Christmas for egg nog, appetizers and sweets. My mom usually made toll house cookies and fudge for which she received many compliments.

Another Christmas tradition was the annual Christmas pageant at the high school put on by the music teacher, Mr. Jorstad (who we affectionately called ("Jughead" but not to his face.

The three alcove-shaped windows in the front of the high school had the nativity scene depicted by children in authentic costumes. The glee club, all dressed in white and carrying a lighted candle, would walk single-file to the front steps where they would congregate to sing carols, then would invite the audience to join them in song. All of this took place outdoors under a warm, star-filled sky where we sat on folding chairs.

A few days after Christmas everyone took down their tree and brought it over to the school athletic field where a bonfire was started that lit up the sky. When the fire died down, we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows and chatted with the neighbors.

Growing up in Panama with many kinds of insects taught me not to like them but at least to tolerate and to respect the little creatures.

The ones that bothered me the most were cockroaches. These hardy creatures were almost impossible to wipe out, except temporarily. We were constantly spraying with a substance called "Flit" which made them disappear for a day or two. If you had a neighbor living next door to you, you had to plan a time when you both could spray at the same time, otherwise the cockroaches would pick up and move next door. Roaches came in every size imaginable from just the size of an ant up to two inches long. The larger ones would sometimes fly across the room, terrorizing the inhabitants of the house.

Spiders were also plentiful in all sizes, but it was rumored that they ate cockroaches so we left them alone. However, I refused to turn off the light at night until my long-suffering father had chased every insect out of my room.

The mosquitoes were plentiful during a certain time of the year. During this season the government truck would drive up and down the street about three times a week spraying DDT into the air. It was considered fun for the neighborhood kids to run behind the truck. At that time no one realized how dangerous a chemical DDT was and since been banned from general use.

We always knew when the crab season was in full swing. The tiny crabs came out at night and we could hear the crunching of their shells under our feet when we walked home from the movies at night. They also stuck to your car tires after driving over them at night. The season lasted for several days.

Another species of insect that caused problems was the sand fleas. They were too tiny to be seen, only felt leaving their marks on their victims' legs. For some reason, the local kids were never bothered by them, but the "new" kids, mostly servicemen’s' children were covered with bites on their legs. The Canal Zone kids must have had an immunity to them.

In 1947 just after my 14th birthday, my parents and I went to the U.S. on a two month vacation. We had just received one of the first new Ford cars since end of World War 2. It was a black 4-door sedan that my dad showed off proudly to all the neighbors. One of them quipped, "Louis, now you have to take your car on a trip across the U.S." This started my dad to thinking and he brought it up at dinner, how would you and Nancy like to spend the summer touring part of the United States? We can take the car with us on the ship to New York. My mother and I were excited at the prospect and happily agreed. We started planning the trip and decided to drive from New York City down the eastern coast of Florida then east to Texas to see our relatives who were my dad's brother and sister and their spouses and children.

After five days on the ship from Panama to New York, it was a thrill to arrive in New York harbor, seeing the Statue of Liberty and the skyline of skyscrapers. The car was unloaded onto the dock, the luggage crammed into the trunk and away we drove, headed for our first city, Washington, D.C. It wasn't easy for my dad to drive in the big cities or on the freeways because there was nothing like that in the Canal Zone where we lived, with its two-lane traffic and 25 miles an hour speed limit.

When we arrived in D.C., we stayed in a Howard Johnson motel for the next three days, and spent time sightseeing all the famous spots like the Capitol building, the Smithsonian Museum, took a tour of the White House, stopped at the Jefferson and Lincoln Memorials, the FBI building and the Library of Congress. It was great to be able to relate to all the places I had studied about in school. I felt very proud to be a citizen of the United States.

Next stop was in Miami Beach, Florida. The weather was hot and humid and we didn't have air conditioning in the car. Most cars didn't have it. We then headed for New Orleans where we stayed with some friends that we knew from the Canal Zone. They showed us around the French Quarters and Bourbon Street.

When we finally arrived in Texas where we stayed for a month because our relatives insisted on it. We slept at Uncle Leo's and Aunt Fronie's house and had breakfast there. We had the other meals at Aunt Bernice and Uncle Ramsey's house. We also visited other people in the town of Riviera that were friends. Had a wonderful time with all the cousins. They took us on a side trip to Mexico to go shopping and sightseeing --- only a couple of hours away. During the month we also attended many barbecues, rodeos and block parties.

It was finally time to start on our trip back to New York on the S.S. Cristobal. On the way there we stopped in Kentucky and Tennessee to see some of the Civil War battlefields. My dad was a Civil War buff, he had read lots of books on the subject.

After being gone two months, we had the car loaded on the ship, went aboard the ship and five days later we were home. It was a trip I would never forget.

One of the most interesting trips I have taken was to the San Blas Islands, a group of approximately 250 tiny islands off the coast of Panama and inhabited by the Kuna Indians.

A group of friends and I left early one morning in a small but sturdy, seagoing boat. As we approached the shore of the main island two hours later, I was struck by the beauty of the beaches --- the pure white sand and the crystal clear light blue water. There were clusters of thatched roof huts with children running free, the younger ones with no clothes on. They rushed over to greet us as we came ashore while the adults stood apart and watched us cautiously from the sidelines.

I had seen some of the Kuna Indians on the mainland in Panama, but had never stood very close to them. As a race they are much shorter than us, the average height for a woman was about 4 foot nine or 10, and the men were about 5 feet tall. Most of them came up to my shoulder. The men dressed in western style clothes, but the women and girls all wore the traditional clothing: mola tops, wrap-around skirts with yellow and red headdresses, which fell loosely to their shoulders, tightly beaded bracelets wrapped around their wrists and ankles, large gold earrings and some with rings in their noses. No one wore shoes.

Tourists buy the molas which can be used for a blouse, pillow cases or framed on the wall. A mola is sewn by hand by the Kuna women by a technique called reverse applique. Layers of cloth are sewed together, then designs cut through to show the colors underneath.

The Kuna people are happy, energetic and hard-working. They live the same way they have for several hundred years. They sleep in hammocks and their only furniture is an armless chair or two made from a contour into a section of log. They all cook together over a fire in one big hut and share the food.

They have no modern conveniences such as running water, indoor plumbing or electricity. They don't even have fresh water, so the women row in their dugout canoes to the mainland to get water from the rivers. The men tend their crops on the mainland on a small strip of land given to them by the Panama government where they also raise chickens and catch fish out of the ocean. Every once in a while you will see an albino with platinum hair and very white skin and pink eyes. They are considered a special gift from the Creator.

When they have problems in the village, they have a town meeting and talk about solutions. Women are treated as equals and have a say in everything that goes on.

Some unusual traditions concerning family life is when a couple is married, the man moves into his bride's home and takes orders from his father-in-law. When children are born, they are not given a name, but they are allowed to choose their own names when they are older.

I really enjoyed spending time with these happy people. Their culture was so interesting and different from our own high-tech society. They are like one family and share everything.

I think just about every family in the Canal Zone had a maid, most of whom were from Jamaica and the West Indies. They spoke with a Jamaican accent which the Canal Zone kids picked up easily and which they used frequently just for fun. Labor was cheap in those days probably not more than $2.00 a day for 12 hours of work, six days a week and included house-cleaning, laundry, cooking, ironing, baby-sitting, In addition, she offered advice for child-rearing, home remedies for ailments, tips on how to play the lottery and any other advice needed. This all sounds like slave labor, but actually being a maid was a much sought after job. The West Indian women were often coming to your door soliciting for employment as a maid. They called their women employers "Mistress" and the men "Sir". Every Canal Zone house had a maid's room in the basement which included a bathroom and a place to lie or sit down. Our maid, Dora, worked for us for 15 years. She was a single mother with one daughter about 2 years older than me who she brought to work with her occasionally and we used to play together. Her name was Pearline, I let her play with my dolls and other toys. I used to ask her where her father was and she said she didn't know, which I thought was strange because everyone in the Canal Zone had a mother and a father. There was no such thing as a single mother.

Every Sunday around noon, Dora cooked us dinner with either pot roast or fried chicken accompanied by mashed potatoes and vegetables. For dessert she made us a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting all from scratch. There were no cake mixes. It took several hours to put a dinner together. During the war years we sometimes had a soldier or sailor over for dinner. Since we lived right next to the army base, they had a program where you signed up to have one or two serviceman come over for dinner. I was about 9 or 10 and Jano was about 19, so the guys spent most of their time talking to her. My dad would only let her date officers at that time.

At other times when Jano had a date it was proper for the guy to come to the house and talk to the parents and the rest of the family while Jano was still getting ready. As for me I used to entertain them with my acrobats like handstands, headstands, back bends and cartwheels. I think the guys were happy for the diversion, so they wouldn't have to get the third degree from the parents.

Back to the maids. During the construction days of the canal, many of the workers migrated from Jamaica and many stayed on with their families to make their home in Panama. Their culture, their colorful expressions, and unique accents were easily acquired by the children raised in the Canal Zone. I learned a lot from Dora.

It wasn't always constant work for the maids. They would take quite a few breaks and you would see them gathered under one of the houses (all the houses were on stilts) chatting about many subjects. As kids we would play nearby and eavesdrop. Subjects covered their boyfriends or husbands, complaints or praise about the "mistress" and general gossip about the families they worked for.

We had a couple more maids after Dora left to move to New York to live with relatives, but she was our favorite.

Below is a story told by grandpa Kaufer of a conversation with Dora:

Grandpa: Dora, would you please heat the leftover soup?

Dora: Yes sir.

A while goes by.

Grandpa: Dora, did you heat the leftover soup?

Dora: Yes sir.

Grandpa: Well, where is it?

Dora: I heat the soup.

Grandpa: Are you going to bring it to me?

Dora looks confused and thinks for a bit and then understands what happened.

Dora: Ah sir, I heat the soup. Why you no ask me to hot the soup.

My mother had a half-sister named Eleanor, who lived on a farm in Oklahoma owned by her and her husband Grant Sproul. Eleanor was the product of Peter Hall and his second wife. Norine and Jane were the daughters of Peter and Emma, his third wife. He had a fourth child by his first wife, but she and the baby died in childbirth.

After Emma died, Peter took Norine and Jane on a ship to New Orleans, then by train to Oklahoma. This was the first time they met their half-sister. She was ten years older than Norine and 15 years older than Jane. She was 23 years old when they visited her for the first time and she was married and expecting her first child, later followed by two more children. They all enjoyed meeting each other and spending a couple of days on their farm which was quite large.

Fast forward 24 years later: My mom and I were at the tail end of our trip from visiting Jano at her college. I was eight years old and we went to Oklahoma to visit Eleanor and her family for the first time for me. I was happy to meet my cousins for the first time. There was the oldest daughter, also named Norine, and her two teen-age brothers Andrew and Mark. I thought the boys were really cute. They showed us around the farm which consisted of a chicken house, pig pen, cattle and milk cows -- my first visit to a real farm. The next day when I was taking a stroll over to the chicken house with the farm hand (a stocky young woman) she was getting ready to kill a chicken for dinner that night. She grabbed the chicken around the neck and whirled it around in a circle winding the neck around to kill it. Then she chopped off its head and it started running around in circles with no head. I was horrified at this scene and ran back into the house crying. I had never seen anything like that before. They cooked the chicken for dinner that night, but needless to say I couldn't eat any of it. I was ready to go home. They couldn't understand why I was upset since they had grown up on a farm and it was just part of their everyday life.

A few years later, we received the sad news that Andrew, the oldest son died after being gored by his bull. The only one of the cousins left is Mark and he still lives in Oklahoma. He is in his 80's.

Elementary school was grades 1 to 6. Junior high school was in a bigger building a few blocks away which also housed high school, grades 9 to 12.

I was very excited on my first day of junior high school. I felt very grown-up walking the same halls as the high school students. We were assigned to home rooms and then we had schedule cards to show us what subjects we were taking and the time and room number. This was the first time I had ever not stayed in the same classroom all day. Another new thing was having a period for study hall where you could do your homework, which I liked so I didn't have to lug books home. A teacher was always in charge of study hall except if she or he had to leave the room for a short time. When that happened, usually the boys acted up by throwing spit-balls or paper airplanes at each other or at the girls. When the teacher returned after a few minutes, all activity stopped and everyone got back to their studying.

Gym class was a new experience after having only recess in grade school. The girls wore cute gym suits -- bloomer type bottoms and sleeveless tops, which we had to take home and launder ourselves. During class we played volleyball, basketball and did calisthenics. During the dry season, we played softball outside.

In 7th and 8th grade, the girls were required to take Household Arts, one semester was cooking, and the 2nd semester was sewing. The boys all had to take Wood Shop whether they liked it or not. In our junior year, we had a counselor who would talk to each student privately to help them with their decision to attend college or learn a trade. You had to take certain subjects for a college preparatory course. She also had college catalogs for U.S. colleges for everyone to look over. The only college to attend in the Canal Zone was the Canal Zone Junior College located on the other side of the isthmus, a two year college where many of the Cristobal High School and Balboa High School students went before transferring to a four year college in the U.S. I chose to attend San Jose State University in San Jose, California.

Since the only two high schools were BHS and CHS, they were our only rival baseball, football, and basketball teams and we played against them often. To attend the games in Balboa, a large group from our school had to travel the 50 miles to get there, and BHS did the same. It was fun because everyone got to meet new people and make new friends. Our parents would pick us up about 11 p.m. at the train station after the games. Nobody in high school could get a driver's license until they were 18 so parents spent a lot of their time chauffeuring their kids.

The highlight of my senior year was being elected Jamboree Queen to represent Cristobal High School. The football game was held at our school and included a couple of games with BHS and the Jr. College teams. I got to ride into the stadium perched on the back of a convertible along with the queens from Balboa and Jr. College.

Another exciting football game was when a team from Miami, Florida played with our football team as guests. They brought their own cheerleaders with them, which our team was happy to see and meet them and the same thing of course with the Florida boys. All the girls went gaga over them, since they were new and different.

Jano and Jim were married at a private ceremony in the Catholic Church on April 11, 1947 followed by a lavish wedding reception at the Hotel Washington's spacious ballroom. The guest list was quite long, probably over a hundred people there since my mom and dad had so many friends. Most had known Jano since childhood. Presents were constantly being delivered at our house, all of them stacked on our dining room table. After the scrumptious buffet dinner, there was an orchestra for dancing. Many of the Leach family were there, including your dad, LeRoy. I was happy to have someone my age to dance with (even though he stepped on my toes a lot). Cissie and Pat and their mother were there too. I was 13 and your dad was 14. He looked very nice in his suit. Jano and Jim then left by plane the next day for their honeymoon in Costa Rica.

That same year I used to see LeRoy at the summer movie matinees and sometimes at the Washington swimming pool. When I was 14 and I was a freshman in high school, I would occasionally see LeRoy ride by on his motor scooter during school hours and wondered why he wasn't in school. The following year the whole Leach family moved to Mr. Leach's old homestead in Lynn, Massachusetts and I didn't see LeRoy again until I was 19 in 1952 when I spent a year in between my freshman and sophomore year in Boston where I lived with Thelma Leignadier and two other girls who were former classmates of hers. I found a job working as a secretary for a Jewish Cemetery. I called up Mrs. Leach to see if LeRoy still lived in Ms. and she said he was working for General Electric in Ohio, so she called him and told him I was in Boston. He appeared at my doorstep a few days after a long drive from Ohio. He took me over to see his family in Lynn and I met his grandmother, aunt, and lots of cousins and of course his mother and younger sister, both of whom I knew from the Canal Zone.

After living in Boston for several months, I went back to the Canal Zone for the summer. I decided to go back to San Jose State and LeRoy decided to go live with his brother, Ray in San Jose and start an apprenticeship as a plumber. After six months we announced our engagement and were married on April 3, 1954 in a ceremony performed by my Jesuit cousin, Father Leonard Kaufer in the Catholic Church in Sunnyvale, California.

Our first abode was a cozy apartment in Sunnyvale where we lived for a few months then moved to an apartment in San Jose to be near LeRoy's job. We also found out I was pregnant with our first child Raymond Norris Leach III, born on January 6, 1955.

Jane Compton and I were best friends from the time we met when we were four years old at dancing class. We started school together in the first grade until she and her family moved to Ecuador during the war years. They spent about three years there and when Jane returned she was speaking fluent Spanish. We continued our friendship. We took dancing lessons together, acrobat, ballet and tap. After class we hung out at her house because she lived just a block away.

When I was 12, my family moved to a large two story house right on the beach. I was happy because Jane lived only two houses down the street.

Jane's father owned a sailboat which she and I took across the street into the ocean one day when Mr. Compton wasn't there. On the way back we almost tipped over and the sail got soaking wet. This was a dead giveaway. There was no way to lie our way out of it. Luckily he was a very calm man so we didn't get into too much trouble.

During our teen years we gave numerous parties at each other's houses for our friends and classmates. Everyone brought refreshments and we put on records and danced until eleven o'clock or until our parents said the guests had to leave.

We hung out at each other's house and our conversations were now more about boys, hair-dos, clothes, and make-up. We got most of our information from the "Seventeen" magazine.

After graduation from high school, we went our separate ways for several years, Jane to New York and me to California to college, work, marriage, and raising children. We kept in touch by phone, letters, and pictures. I saw her again in 1986 at a high school reunion and she and Bill came to our home in Half Moon Bay in 1999 for ten days. The last time I saw her was at our 50th high school reunion in Tampa, Florida in 2001.

Sadly, Jane passed away in 2010 of ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease. She is survived by her husband, Bill, three children and seven grandchildren. We all miss her terribly.

I remember the day the United States entered into World

War 2. The date was December 7, 1941, better known today as Pearl Harbor Day. I was at the theater of our local clubhouse with my friends in the middle of a movie when the manager came up on the stage and announced that Pearl Harbor had been bombed by the Japanese. "So why can't they show us the rest of the movie", I thought to myself. Of course, I was only eight years old and didn't realize the seriousness of what had happened.

We were sent home but the impact of the event did not hit me until my parents explained that the United States was now in the war and my brother, Ted, who was 17 at the time might be drafted when he was 18. This really scared me to think that he might be hurt or killed in the war.

Other things I remembered during the war years were how my sister and father had to work six days a week even on holidays. We had our Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday after Thanksgiving and celebrated Christmas on Sunday, no matter what day of the week it fell on. Everyone else was doing the same thing.

I remember the flood of servicemen in Panama and the Canal Zone. I learned to recognize all the different uniforms and what rank they held. Almost every Sunday we would have a serviceman or two for dinner and to spend an afternoon at our house. Many of our neighbors did this since we lived just a block away from the army base.

Everyone was doing something for the war effort. At school we bought war bond stamps that we pasted in a book until we had enough to turn in for a war bond. We brought aluminum foil and string to school which we collected in a big ball and then turned in to the collection center.

My mother donated several hours a week at the local U.S.O. fixing and serving food and talking to the young servicemen. She served coffee and doughnuts at the pier when ships came through the canal.

My dad was head warden for the Civilian Defense, to prepare civilians in the event of an air raid. I helped him by delivering notices of the meetings to each of our neighborhood residents. I was also a volunteer along with some of the other

Kids to be patients that needed first aid. We thought it was fun to have our head bandaged or our arm or leg in a splint.

My brother was drafted and sent over to Okinawa which was a traumatic experience for our family. We received V-mail letters from him and my mother would cry every time one would come. One of us would write to him so that he would receive mail every day. Ted said mail from home was what kept their morale up.

I was 12 years old and at Girl Scout camp when we received news that the war was over. We were all excited, first hugging each other and then grabbing pots and pans from the kitchen banging on them with whatever we could find.

My brother came home from Okinawa shortly after and we had a gigantic party for him, inviting everybody we knew.

These are my memories of the war years.

In August of 1952 after completing my first year of college at San Jose State and a summer with my friends and my parents in Panama, I arrived at the decision that I needed a year off to recuperate from thirteen years of grueling school. It was a decision that my parents were not too happy with.

I had been corresponding with Thelma Leignadier, my friend and former classmate since third grade. Who wrote great letters describing her cosmopolitan life in Boston. She had recently graduated from a one-year secretarial school named Katherine Gibbs, which was considered one of the most prestigious schools in the area and was now working at a new glamorous job,

Her latest letter started an idea brewing in my head. She mentioned that one of her three roommates was moving and why didn't I give some thought to moving there and getting a job in the city. She also brought up the fact that three boy's colleges were located within the city limits of Boston (MIT, Harvard University, and Boston University).

After much debating with my parents, and some help and input from Mrs. Leignadier, who had just come back from visiting Thelma in Boston, my parents gave me the consent to go.

In September of 1952, I boarded the S.S. Cristobal, one of the Panama Canal Company's ships for the employees, and relaxed for the next five days at sea, swimming, sunning, eating and playing shuffleboard.

It was exciting to wake up one morning to see the Statue of Liberty outside my porthole. I managed to collect all my luggage off the ship, get into a cab to the train station, get on the train to Boston where Thelma met me. We carried all my luggage on the subway, got off at our stop and walked two blocks to her apartment that I was to share with her and two other girls.

The first shock came when I found out the four story apartment house had no elevator and we had to walk up four flights of stairs with 3 pieces of luggage.

The second shock came when I walked through the door and saw the size of the rooms. My expectation of a spacious apartment with a sweeping view of the city was replaced with two windows with a view of brick walls. The image of elegant furniture was replaced with well-worn pieces that looked like they had been picked up at the Salvation Army.

After a week of sightseeing and getting adjusted to my new home, I knew it was time to start looking for a job. My three roommates sat down with me to help plan a strategy. We started by looking at the ads in the classified section under "help wanted" and circled the ones I thought I might be qualified for. Since I didn't know the location of any of the streets and my only transportation was by bus, subway or by foot, I was starting to get worried about getting around the city.

One of the girls came up with the suggestion of going to an employment agency and letting them do the searching for me. "Great idea", I said. This would eliminate roaming around the streets of a strange city.

I made an appointment with agency that had the largest ad in the paper and arrived the next morning to a crowded waiting room. The first question I was asked during my interview after my name and address was, "Where did you work before?" When I told the lady I was just out of school and the only job I had held (besides baby-sitting) was when I was sixteen as an usherette in the movie theater, she peered at me over the top of her glasses with a look of disbelief. "No experience" she asked in a loud voice? She flipped through her rolodex and finally stopped at one of the cards. She said she had a job opening at a Jewish cemetery at their downtown office. Requiring typing, filing and answering phones and miscellaneous office duties that paid $36 a week, not a bad salary at that time. Thelma was only making about $45 a week at her fancy office.

The cemetery hired me on the spot and I was terribly excited about my first real job. The people in the small office were very nice and helpful. Every morning the four of us started walking to work together wearing high heels, stepping cautiously on the sidewalks uneven cobblestones until we reached the Boston Commons where we split up and went our separate ways to our office

My duties consisted of typing addresses on form letters and envelopes filing folders and relieving the receptionist for lunch and breaks which included answering the phone and greeting people who came into the office. The miscellaneous duties they mentioned consisted of making coffee every morning and afternoon and running out for sandwiches at the corner deli for the boss and salesmen. It wasn't a bad job, but after two months, the monotony of the job of typing form letters got to me and I decided it was time to move on.

I saw an ad in the paper for a secretarial job at the famous Massachusetts General Hospital. What appealed to me most was it was only a little over a block from our apartment. "They're probably looking for someone older than 19 and with more experience", I thought to myself. However, I called and made an appointment for an interview anyway.

I was excited about my interview at the hospital even though I wasn't getting my hopes up. I was interviewed first by a very nice lady in the Personnel Department who gave me a typing test. Then she took me up to the fourth floor where I was interviewed again by the man I might be working for. After explaining what the job duties would be, he said they would let me know. "Oh sure," I thought, "that means. Don’t call me, we'll call you" line.

However, three days later I received a call from the Personnel Department of the hospital and they said I was hired and when could I start. I gave the cemetery a week's notice which they received very matter-of-factly.

Working at the hospital was much more interesting, to say the least. I also appreciated the extra half hour I could sleep in the morning because it was only a seven minute walk to work.

Mr. McNair, my new boss, was a kindly man in his sixties with snow-white hair. He was the manager of the Laundry and Housekeeping Department and had about 65 employees working for him. He was out of the office much of the day doing inspections, conferring with his many supervisors or taking care of problems in the huge laundry room where something was always breaking down. My job consisted of adding up the time cards of 65 employees each week and calculating the overtime hours, then delivered all of them to the payroll department where I became acquainted with several of the women there. They invited me to have lunch with them in the cafeteria. They told me about watching the operations in the dome room and we would watch along with the pre-med students. One day it would be a hysterectomy, another day a hip operation. The one I will never forget was the brain surgery where the surgeon used an instrument that looked like a carpenter's drill to bore through the patient's skull. As he started boring, blood squirted out and hit the wall. We all gasped.

I had to answer Mr. McNair's phone and do his correspondence. I composed most of his letters myself which was good experience for me and I knew it would look good on my next resume.

I spent my first winter after leaving Panama in San Francisco, California. I thought it was terrible, but it was wimpy compared to my second winter in Boston where the streets were covered with snow and the temperatures dropped gradually from the forties down to single digits.

I had a long winter coat, but I needed more than that. Thelma and I went shopping and I bought fur-lined snow boots to wear over my shoes, a wool scarf, a wool cap, gloves and several sweaters. The only thing I couldn't cover was my face. Walking to and from work plus going downtown on the subway and then walking around the corner to our apartment was a painful ordeal, my skin became cracked and even started to bleed in spots. I had to find a solution. The idea hit me. What do the English Channel swimmers use to keep warm and their skin protected from the icy water. They covered their bodies with heavy grease. Why not protect my face in the same way?

I went to the drugstore and purchased a jar of lanolin and applied the thick greasy stuff on my face the next morning before work. When I arrived at my destination, I removed the lanolin with a wet paper towel and reapplied it at the end of the day for the trip home. It worked really well and I managed to survive the winter with my face intact.

Your father, LeRoy showed up on my doorstep a couple of months later and our courtship began. We spent a couple of weekends visiting his relatives in Swampscott, Massachusetts, then by June I had decided to go to Panama for the summer and then continue college in San Jose, CA. LeRoy planned to go live with his brother, Ray, in San Jose and had a plumbing apprenticeship lined up there by Ray who had already worked as a plumber for several years.

Thelma and I sailed back to Panama on one of the Panama Canal Co. ships. I visited my parents and friends for the summer then boarded a Maersk line ship to San Francisco, California. I lived at Jano and Jim's house during my year at school they only had two children at the time.

On April 3, 1954, LeRoy and I were married in the Catholic Church at a ceremony performed by my cousin Father Leonard, a Jesuit priest. LeRoy and I lived in an apartment in Sunnyvale, and then in San Jose. We bought our own home in 1962, just before Barry was born on September 10, 1962, followed quickly by his brother, LeRoy II, born Aug. 28, 1963. Raymond III was born Jan. 6, 1955 and Ann Marie was born in November 27, 1956. All of them were born in O'Conner Hospital in San Jose, California.

My year in Boston taught me a lot: how to budget my money, how to travel alone, living in a big city for the first time, shop for clothes without my mother, and meeting lots of new people.

Every October 21st in Portobelo, a small town in Panama, a unique festival "El Cristo Negro" (translated "The Black Christ" is held which draws thousands of people from the neighboring towns and in more modern times, tourists from all parts of the world.

In my senior year in high school, I was fortunate to be able to attend this festival with a group of my friends. Mr. Parker, affectionately called "Pop" by all the kids, was our boat captain and tour guide. What a brave man to take on the responsibility of ten teenagers. We brought an ice chest (with beer hidden under the ice) filled with sodas and snacks. Aboard the small, but sturdy boat, and settled down for the two hour ride to Portobelo.

We arrived at our destination at about 6 p.m. just as mass at the Catholic church was concluding and people were beginning to spill out the tall doors to await the start of the procession of El Cristo Negro. You could feel the excitement in the air.

Suddenly there emerged from the doorway the statue of the Black Christ supported on a platform called the "anda" and carried on the shoulders of about 30 to 40 men. They all wore ankle-length purple robes tied around their waist with cord belts. All had bare feet and shaved heads as was the tradition. To be chosen to carry the anda was a great honor. They were accompanied by the ringing bells, the slow beating of drums and trumpets blared every so often.

Many of the natives followed along with the procession singing and chanting. Many appeared to be in a trance-like state. The imposing figure of Christ was carved from dark mahogany wood (hence the name of Black Christ).was life-size and wore a long purple robe. The shoulder length hair was made from human hair upon which sat a crown of thorns. The figure was bent forward struggling to support the heavy cross on his back.

As the bearers moved forward very slowly, in unison to the bear of the drums, they took three steps forward and two backward, a traditional gait used in processional marches. At the same time they moved their bodies from side to side causing the hair of the statue to sway back and forth.

They say the procession lasts about four hours, but since the next day was a school day and we had a two hour trip ahead of us, Pop Parker started rounding us up at nine o'clock to leave for home.

Some background for the Black Christ:

The first festival was held on October 21, 1821. The most well-known story is that a ship leaving for Columbia had a large crate on board. After setting sail, a huge storm came up and drove the ship back into the harbor. Five times the captain tried to sail away, but each time a storm turned them back. During the final attempt, the crew fearing for their lives, tossed the heavy box over the side. It washed up on the shore and some fishermen after opening the box carried it to the town church and gave it a place of honor. Each year after that the Cristo Negro procession and festival was held on October 21st.

I will never forget the night half the city of Colon, Panama burned down. The year was 1940 and I was seven years old. We were just finishing dinner when the piercing sounds of sirens could be heard in the street nearby. The border between Colon and the Canal Zone was only a couple of blocks away. Our whole neighborhood ran to the edge of the street that divided Panama and the Canal Zone.

We could see black smoke billowing high in the sky. The older kids were all running down the street toward the fire to get a better look. I waited until my parents were ready and then hurried down the street with the other neighbors.

When we reached the scene of the fire, watching safely from the Canal Zone side of the street, I was stunned at what I saw. It was complete bedlam with people running and screaming and hysterically throwing their belongings from the balcony to the street. Clothing, pillows, shoes, mattresses were among the items. Someone even threw a small dresser over the balcony which shattered in the street below.

The buildings were a series of apartments built of flimsy material and the flames shot from building to building whipped by the strong trade winds. Because the buildings were so cheaply made, they burned quickly like kindle wood.

The "bomberos", as the Panamanian firemen were called, were doing their best to extinguish the flames, but the winds were defeating their efforts. The many spectators milling around were a hindrance too.

The U.S. army finally arrived on the scene and only after dynamiting blocks of houses in the fire's path were they able to quench the flames. We all went home after that but hung around on our porches discussing the fire with the neighbors until it was time to go to bed. The scene stuck in my mind of the panic-stricken people running around, some screaming and others crying and yelling. The smell of smoke served as a reminder of the tragedy for several days.

Several complete blocks were destroyed leaving much of the population homeless. The army set up tents and facilities for serving food for the homeless right there in the middle of the city. At our school we had a drive to collect clothes, blankets and canned goods for the fire victims.

The tents became a familiar sight and they remained there for over a year while the city was being rebuilt. When the new buildings were erected by the Panamanian government, they were the same flimsy construction, but as far as I know, there was never a major fire again.

As for any fatalities, I don't know if there were any, since I was a child and I was probably shielded from the information. I believe I heard later that the fire was started by a stove.

It was shortly before nightfall when we lost enough elevation to view our destination, the birth country of many of the passengers on board. It was going to be a nostalgic trip for all of us. I knew I would be seeing many changes in the former Canal Zone and the country of Panama after having been away for 39 years. My sister and I had planned this group trip for several months with our guide and friend, Davis Stevenson, who was also a former native of the Canal Zone and 24 other people along with us.

The first surprise was how much Panama City had transformed into a modern city with many high-rises making it indistinguishable from metropolitan cities in the U.S. The second surprise was the amount of traffic we encountered in between the airport and our hotel. I felt like I was in Los Angeles or San Francisco.

That evening after a wonderful dinner at the hotel where we were staying for the next two nights, performers in native Panamanian costumes danced for us to the familiar music complete with drums and the typical cowbell for our group of 26 people. Then it was off to bed to prepare for an early start in the morning.

The next morning we boarded our comfortable air-conditioned bus for a full day of sightseeing, which I was looking forward to with great anticipation. We drove the 50 miles to the Atlantic side where several of us had lived as children. The bus stopped wherever we wanted it to, so each person could get off and have their picture taken of their former home or homes.

The most obvious changes in my favorite home situated on the beach was the stone wall surrounding the house and bars on the windows. These were places where we grew up feeling safe, not locking our doors most of the time.

We stopped at our former high school which looked pretty much the same except instead of "Cristobal High School" across the front wall was the sign "Colegio de Jose Vegas" with uniformed Panamanian students filling the corridors. As several of us posed for a picture in front of the school, some of the ladies in their old cheerleader poses, many of the students stopped to give us a curious look, probably thinking, "Who are these crazy people?"

The houses on the former Canal Zone property had been turned over to Panama and were now inhabited by Panamanians. The once neat and manicured gardens were no more and in their place overgrown weeds, junky cars and houses with peeling paint. I felt sad to see all the changes.

Our home for the next two days was the Coronado suites where we had a wonderful buffet waiting for us after happy hour. The next day we took a tour of a coffee factory, and then a hike through the jungle to look at the "square" trees, which were actually true to their name. We also saw golden frogs in cages and stopped by a mansion with beautiful grounds covered with many colored flowers, which was owned by a friend of our guide, Davis.

Almost every evening we had musical and dance entertainment with native music and women wearing their beautiful polleras. We shopped in stores and outdoor markets for molas, crystal objects, linens and other stuff.

Although I saw many changes in the buildings, there were some things that hadn't changed: the tropical moonlight, the warm humid weather, with the occasional wisp of a cool trade wind, the delicious foods, the music and dancing and the warm hospitality of the Spanish culture and the sight of the ships transiting the canal. These were all the familiar sights, sounds, and tastes of my childhood and I am happy that I took this trip.

Thirty two members of our Cristobal High School class of 1951 met in Orlando, Florida at the fabulous Marriott World Center on August 9 - 12, 2001 for a joyful 50th reunion. For a graduating class of 62, we considered this an excellent turnout. Most of the attendees were from Florida and several from California and Georgia, but many other states were represented including three classmates from Panama.

Our official class cocktail party was held in one of the Hospitality rooms. What a spread: crab salad, ceviche (a Panamanian delicacy which was raw shrimp soaked in lime juice) fruit, dips, meat balls and various appetizers served with drinks. It was an evening accented with hugs and exclamations of "I would have known you anywhere. Why, you've hardly changed at all." (Ha) Luckily we all had name tags with pictures taken of each one of us in our senior yearbook.

Pat Geddes Risberg, the committee chairman, passed our Achievement certificates that she designed on her computer in the following categories: Most children, most grandchildren, most grandchildren, longest married to current spouse, most schools attended and most years lived in Panama.

A special surprise was the speech given by one of the class members heaping praise on the four committee members, myself included, for the planning and organizing of our reunion. As my eyes perused the room, I realized how long I had known most of the people present. Many thoughts went through my head about how I had started first grade with many of those in the room and continued through to the end of high school. We also lived in close proximity, No wonder there was such a special bond among us, even after fifty years. We had a couple of smaller reunions in previous years organized by Andrew Lim, our student body president and leader of almost everything within our class. We missed Andrew because he died 1992.

My sister, Jano and my friend and former classmate Renee Jones from Oregon and I made the plane trip from San Francisco to Orlando. Annie and Ana met us at the hotel and we shared a room. Renee had made arrangements to stay in a room with Shirley, one of our classmates.

The following evening we attended the big dance in the ballroom along with the rest of the 2,000 people also at the regular annual reunion. My brother Ted and his wife Anita joined us at a table, they lived in Tampa, Florida, and so they attended all the general reunions every year. We also spent time with them the next day. We checked out all the things for sale in the vendor room and ran across some of the Leach relatives -- namely Sheila's kids and their kids. I was disappointed not to see Sheila as she had been in a wheelchair for several years.

Another big dance that evening concluding with a conga line and the limbo. The next morning began with a beautiful champagne brunch and ended with a show of Panamanian dancers doing their native dances.

Now it was time to say goodbyes with promises to stay in touch more often and off to the airport for our eleven o'clock plane to San Francisco. Renee spent another night at our house and left for Oregon the next morning. This was the best reunion ever!!!

On December 31, 1999, the Panama Canal Zone was turned back to Panama from the United States. June, 1999 was a bittersweet day for the graduating classes of all the Canal Zone high schools. It marked the end of an era. All the schools, office buildings, residents, and other buildings owned by the U.S. were turned over to the Panama government. The treaty that had been signed for the lease to rent the land for the Panama Canal for 100 years had now expired. The Panamanians were now in charge of running the canal.

So what happened to all the American employees that had retired over the years? The majority of the former Zonians, as they are called, are now living in Florida. The hot, humid climate in Florida is similar to the climate in Panama so they feel right at home there. Many moved back to states where they had lived as children growing up. California, Georgia. Texas, Ohio, and Minnesota were some of the other states.

The network that keeps Zonians in touch with each other is the Panama Canal Society, an organization whose motto is: "To preserve American ideals and Canal Zone Friendships."

The organization is based in Seminole, Florida and publishes the "Canal Record" four times a year, a publication mailed to all the members who pay $35 a year for dues. The booklet consists of about 90 pages and contains news and photos of Zonians around the country sent in by the members. It also keeps all members informed of reunions held around the country, but mostly carries news and registration forms for the big annual reunion in either Tampa or Orlando, Florida usually at a Marriott Hotel. The whole hotel is rented for this reunion which has an attendance of 3,000 or more.

The first reunion I went to was in the early 70's with my mom, then with Martin in 1986 for a mini class reunion, then again in the 90's and the last one I went to with my sister, daughter and granddaughter in 2001 for my 50th high school class reunion. My late brother and his wife attend most of them since they lived in Tampa, Florida, so we spent lots of time with them during these trips.

Now with e-mail and Facebook we keep in touch this way. Out of our graduating class of 61, only about six have died, at least that we know of. There are a couple of web sites for former Zonians too. We are like one big family.

My first trip to Europe was to visit Annie and her family who lived in Belgium. Ana was about 2 years old. Juanito had not been born yet.

Plans were made for Juan's two daughters, Rachel and Rebecca to fly to Belgium with me to see their father which was fine with me. I was glad to have someone to travel with me on the long flight. The flight from San Francisco to New York was about six hours, then we had a two hour layover at the New York airport where we boarded another plane for a 4 hour flight to Heathrow airport in London. The last flight was very short and when we landed in Brussels, we were very happy to have Annie meet us after going through customs.

The next day Annie took us for sightseeing trip around the city of Brussels to see all the points of interest especially the large town square with all of the colorful flowers in bloom. We talked about taking a trip to Paris so we were very excited about that.

The next day the six of us piled into the Volkswagen beetle for our big trip. Annie and Juan sat in the front seat, Rachel, Rebecca and I in the back seat with Ana perched in the back of our heads next to the rear window. She seemed very comfortable there. If we had been in the U.S., we certainly would have received a citation (maybe even jail time). French traffic laws are much more lenient. For instance there is no speed limit on the Autobahn. You can drive 120 miles an hours if you want.

Anyway, we finally arrived at our destination and checked into a hotel room. It was one small room with a single bed and one double bed. I took the single bed, Annie and Juan the double bed and the kids slept on the floor using the extra blankets and pillows in the closet. We had a tiny bathroom with a toilet and sink, but bathing facilities were down the hall. Seems most of the European hotels are like this.

We had a full day of activities the next day including the Louvre, the Eiffel tower, the Champs d' Elysees, the sidewalk cafes and the fashionable stores.

For dinner, the girls pressured us into eating at McDonald's, which was pretty much the same menu as the U.S. What surprised me was people were drinking beer and bringing their dogs right into the restaurant.

It was a great trip and we did a lot for just one weekend.

About a year after my first trip to Europe, I met Martin at a picnic. I had taken my mother to a Mother's Day picnic and she struck up a conversation with Martin and then introduced me to him. After a short courtship, we made plans for a trip to Europe since Annie was still living in Belgium and Martin had two daughters in Denmark, whom he hadn't seen for a year. Their mother had died and they were being raised by their maternal grandparents.

After consulting Annie and her family and the Denmark relatives and making arrangements for dates and time, we first flew to Brussels, Belgium via New York and Heathrow Airport, a grueling trip of about 16 hours and were met by Annie. With little sleep on the plane, we had a bad case of jet lag, which took a couple of days to overcome.

Ana was three years old and Juanito about 4 months old. Ana was speaking fluent French which she picked up very quickly at pre-school. Ana also spoke Spanish (which she picked up from her father) and English from her mother. Annie also spoke French fluently which she learned from night school. She was able to converse with merchants and her neighbors and also was able to ask for directions around the city. She took us around to all the sights of the city and also to The Netherlands to see all the beautiful tulips and windmills just like the pictures you see in books.

Ana entertained us with all the French songs she had learned at school. She also liked to play the role of school teacher with Martin and me as her students that she could boss around with commands like "contre le meur" which meant "against the wall". She spoke English with a cute French accent.

After a few days in Belgium, we got on a train to Paris for our next leg of the trip. Spent two nights and two days there. We took a city bus tour around the city and touched on all the main sights that I had seen on my first trip -- the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the sidewalk cafes. We took a lovely boat trip on the River and saw lots of sights that way.

Another train trip took us to Copenhagen, Denmark where we were met by Bettina and Therese, Martin's daughters, and their grandfather, who they called "Morfar" which meant "mother's father" translated literally or "grandfather" in English. We stayed with them in their spacious home. Mormor (Mother's mother) was very hospitable and kept us fed with good meals. They showed us around Copenhagen and took us around to see some of their friends. Most of the Danes speak excellent English, which they learn in their early school years.

Our trip was a great success. Besides seeing interesting countries and different cultures, the best part was our visits were visiting with all the relatives.

My mother was born in Medina, Wisconsin on December 20, 1901 and my dad was born in Red Lake Falls, Minnesota on February 1, 1897. They didn't meet until circumstances brought them both to the Panama Canal Zone about 1921. They worked in the same office at adjacent desks in a crowded office, no cubicles. My dad was an accountant and my mom was a clerk of some kind.

My father had come to Panama at the family doctor's advice to take his ailing mother (Molly Duffy) to a warmer climate. She had been ill for many years with an ailment (probably asthma or another respiratory disease). Her husband, Louis, Sr. stayed behind in Riviera, Texas, with son Leo and daughter Bernice.

After a short courtship which consisted mostly of short visits to Norine's house sitting on the porch drinking lemonade under the watchful eye of Peter Hall, Norine's father.

Norine and Louis were married at the Catholic Church in Colon on July 13, 1922 and repeated the ceremony again in the Canal Zone at the court house. They sailed on the United Fruit ship to New Orleans where they rented a small apartment and Louis sold vacuum cleaners door-to-door with Norine as his assistant. Molly stayed in the Canal Zone with her daughter, Bernice who by this time was living in the Canal Zone in the government quarters and working at a job close by.

Norine and Louis’s first child, Jane Bernice, was born in New Orleans on January 9, 1924. The economy was faltering at this time and vacuum cleaners were hard to sell. They decided to move back to the Canal Zone where Louis got his old job back at the Dry Dock Division at Mt. Hope. Norine was expecting another baby and Theodore "Ted" Louis was born in Gorgas Hospital on October 20, 1925.

Norine and Louis moved back to Cristobal, the Atlantic side of Panama after living in Balboa for two years. They felt more at home in Cristobal because that's where most of their friends were.

Their third child, Nancy, was born in the Colon Hospital on May 5, 1933.

They both loved living in the Panama Canal Zone and stayed on the Atlantic side until Louis's retirement in 1959. They then moved to California to be near their two daughters. Their son lived in Tampa, Florida.

Both of them had lots of hobbies and activities. Louis loved photography. He had his own darkroom in the basement of their house in Margarita and spent many hours there developing and printing his pictures. He took lots of portraits of me and my friends. He liked to take pictures of Yosemite in the style of Ansel Adams in black and white. He took many pictures of flowers and trees with colored film. I used to help him in the darkroom and he even allowed a couple of my friends and me to enlarge pictures of ourselves.

When they moved to California Norine and Louis joined the Camera Club where they made many friends. They traveled with members of the club to various spots of interest to take pictures of the seashore, the mountains and places where there were animals. Louis mounted several of his photographs and displayed them at photo shows where he won many prizes. He used his son-in-law's (LeRoy) darkroom for developing and printing. He and Jim Cochrane, his other son-in-law, went on a photographic trip to the Sierras.

Another hobby of Louis's was gardening. When he lived in Panama, he spent time growing tropical plants and flowers, especially orchids of various species. There was one flower called the "Night Blooming Seres" which only bloomed at night

So when it was due to bloom, he would get out of bed and photograph it at 2:00 a.m. What dedication!!

When they moved to California, he found his passion in growing roses. He grew them in his back yard in every color and species available. They were all shades of red, pink, white and even lavender. Then when they would bloom, of course he would photograph them.

After 38 years of service with the Panama Canal Company, Norine and Louis retired to California to be near their two daughters. Ted was living in the Canal Zone with his growing family.

Norine and Louis first lived in an apartment in Sunnyvale, then they bought a house in San Jose in the same subdivision as their daughter Nancy. They enjoyed baby-sitting with their four grandchildren occasionally. Louis worked at a part time job keeping the books for a small business in Santa Clara.

Louis passed away on March 31, 1971. He collapsed while swimming in the YMCA swimming pool. His two granddaughters, Carol Cochrane and Ann Leach were with him at the time as well as two of his grandsons, Barry and LeRoy Leach II. He died at the Alexian Brothers Hospital in San Jose, California, the same hospital where Norine used to volunteer.

Norine stayed in their house on Mt. Herman Drive for a few years and then rented Annie's house in Los Gatos after their family left for Belgium...

Norine, who loved to travel, especially on cruise ships, went on several cruise trips, practically covering the whole world. She took her granddaughter, Carol on a cruise with her to the Caribbean, then took her grandson, LeRoy, on an Alaskan cruise when he was ten years old. Norine and Nancy went on a ten day trip to the Hawaiian Islands where they had a wonderful time touring the islands, attending luas, and going on night club tours in the evening by bus. Norine also took a cruise to the Scandinavian countries, but the cruise of cruises was around the world which took three months. She sailed from San Francisco to Hawaii, the South Sea Islands, stopping in Australia, New Zealand, around the continent of Africa, parts of Europe, across the Atlantic Ocean stopping in South America, through the Panama Canal and home to San Francisco.

Norine passed away in Los Gatos, California on Feb. 17, 1985 of a cerebral hemorrhage. My parents lived a full life and enjoyed their family. We miss them very much. Norine and Louis were married for 49 years.

The Leach family left the Canal Zone and moved back to their former hometown of Swampscott, Mass. in 1949. By this time Cissie was married to Red Robertson and Pat was just finishing up high school so she moved in with Cissie. The other three girls continued their schooling in Mass. and LeRoy joined the navy completing a GED while in the service. Pat later married Bob Koenig, a colonel in the Army and they had three boys, all three of them graduated from West Point.

A few years later, Lorna moved back to Panama where she met and married Jack Childers who was stationed in the Navy in Panama. They later moved to Illinois where they raised a family of five children.

Sheila married Dick Egger, who was born and raised in the Canal Zone and they also had five children.

Raymond, Sr. died at the age of 49 of a heart attack. That left only Maureen and Julia living in Swampscott close to Julia's mother and Sister Margaret McDonald and her son Arthur.

Julia passed away in about 1956. LeRoy flew to Mass. and brought Maureen to CA to live with us. She enrolled in San Jose City College which was only about two blocks from where we lived on Clifton Avenue.

Pat and her three boys lived on the same street while her husband, Bob, was overseas. I used to baby-sit with the three boy while Pat taught catechism every Saturday afternoon at the local Catholic Church. She also took care of Raymond sometimes. He loved playing with his Koenig cousins, who were all about a year apart, and Doug was a year older than Raymond.

Most of the original Leach family are gone now, except for Maureen, who lives in Reno. She and Don have three children.

Ray, Jr. died of a heart attack at the age of 49 in 1971.

Cissie and Red both died a few years ago.

Pat died in 2003 of stomach cancer.

LeRoy died in 1986 of lung cancer.

Lorna died in July, 2013 just a few days before her 80th birthday.

Sheila died in about 2004. She was in her 60's, I believe.

Ray, Jr.'s two sons Patrick died of Cancer at the age of 54 and Tim died of heart problems at the age of 49.

Their mother Mary died in about 2007.

Raymond Leach and Julia McSweeney were married in 1920 in Swampscott, Massachusetts. Their first child, Raymond Norris Leach, Jr. was born in 1921. A few years later they moved to the Panama Canal Zone where Ray, Sr. was employed as a plumber for the Panama Canal Company.

Their family grew rapidly with five daughters and another son, Cissie born in 1928, Patricia in 1930, LeRoy, 1932, Lorna 1933, Sheila in 1936, and last but not least was Maureen born in 1940. In between the births, Raymond, Sr. had a son named Austin Ago born in Mass.

The Leaches lived in a 3 bedroom cottage next door to another large family: the Boyntons consisting of six children, 2 boys and 4 girls. There was a long-standing feud between the two families, one incident involved an avocado tree which stood between the two properties (there were no fences between any of the houses in the C.Z.).

Another incident was LeRoy pushing Myrna Boynton down while she was on roller skates leaving her with a scar on her nose which is visible to this very day. Julia could not accept the fact that her little boy could be capable of such a deed forbid her kids to play with the Boynton kids any more. Fortunately when they grew older, everyone became friends again.

When we moved to the Mt. Pleasant subdivision in San Jose, California, Myrna and her husband Harold moved just around the corner from us with their three children, which later became six children. Myrna and I traded off baby-sitting with our kids. We also visited with Mr. and Mrs. Boynton in Morgan Hill and to Niza's ranch in San Juan Bautista.

I forgot to say that Julia was born in Ireland. Some of your kids might want to do some genealogy on their Leach relatives when they get older. I assume Julia was born about 1900 or 1901 since Ray was born in 1921. Grandma Norine was born in 1901.

We had quite a collection of dogs and an occasional cat while the kids were growing up -- plus some other out of the ordinary pets.

There was Lady, a cocker spaniel, who produced two litters of pure-bred puppies who we sold to people except for one puppy, a male named Goldie. An Alaskan Huskie named Ahnook, used to attack a neighbors cattle at night when we lived out in the country at the Hesterman Estate. With blood all over his mouth in the morning, it was hard to hide the evidence. We had to keep him locked up at night after that. His close companion was a German shepherd named Porsche, a dog who was afraid of his own shadow. Other dogs were Sam, Big Red, and an Irish setter, who was expelled from dog obedience school. Sam lost favor with Grandma Norine when she was sitting in the front seat of the car and she leaned back with a half a sandwich to hand to the boys, but Sam also sitting in the back seat snatched the sandwich out of Grandma Norine's hand along with part of her finger. A torrent of swear words followed.

One of the dogs used to howl and bark in the middle of the night in the back yard. This caused us to have one irate Frenchman call up in the middle of the night and yell "would you please shut your dog up. I'm trying to sleep."

Chablis and Chianti were toy poodles who played together out in the yard and didn't cause anyone any trouble.

In later years the boys had a pit bull named Bogart who was accidentally strangled to death by his leash.

Pussywillow was about the only cat that I remember that had a name. He hung around the house a lot except when he went out on some of his nightly excursions looking for lady cats. Once he disappeared for two months at which time he came to our doorstep all messed up with cuts and blood caked in his fur, and a gaping wound on his neck. We took him to the vet and he recovered in a few weeks. He stuck pretty close to home after that.

Don’t think anyone had as many out of the ordinary pets as our family. There was a snake, a parrot, 2 white rats, a monkey, chickens, guinea pigs, an iguana, and two pigs.

The snake lived in an aquarium and the kids used to carry him outside and show him to the neighborhood kids and let them touch him. One evening he disappeared from the aquarium. We were frantically trying to locate him as it was getting time to go to bed. There was no way I was going to bed with a snake running loose in the house. After about an hour we found him hiding behind one of the dressers so the boys put him back in his aquarium and put a top on it solidly.

In a second aquarium a green iguana lived for a few months. We noticed that he was gradually turning brown, but we didn't know why. He finally died. The brown color was a sign he was sick but we found that out too late.

The kids played a lot with the white rats. They thrived we on a diet of lettuce and other veggies. .

The monkey belonged to the Monkey Bar at the bowling alley and we brought him home during the day to enjoy some daylight and have room to play.

LeRoy brought the parrot home from Panama and he lived in a cage in the downstairs family room. When he wanted to eat or just attention, he would call out "Leee Roy" until someone came to shut him up.

When we lived on Clifton Avenue in San Jose, LeRoy built an aviary which were filled with about 30 parakeets, some of which were very rare. They looked like parakeets, but were called "Lutinos" and were a bright yellow color. Chickens lived in the bottom of the cage. Sometimes the chickens were allowed to run free outside the cage and fly over to the neighbor's house and chew on his plants. He was irate about this and clipped their wings. We lost them as friends. They never spoke to us again and they moved away shortly after that.

Other neighbors lived two doors down from us, Harold and Alice Clewett and their kids Rocky and Betty were the same age as Raymond and Annie. They were also our landlords and rented the house to us. Next door to them lived Agnes Clewett, their sister-in-law with her daughter, Judy and grown son Al. Their father had recently died. Agnes took care of Raymond as a 4 month old baby while I went to work at FMC Corporation. He called her "Mother Agnes" when he learned to talk. Aunt Pat also took care of Raymond at some point. He liked playing with his three cousins, Jim, Gary and Doug.

When we were living at the Hesterman Estate in the early 70's, in San Jose, we had seven horses there; some belonged to us and some were boarders belonging to other people. Pacer was our first horse and belonged to Raymond. Annie rode the Apaloosa, the Palomino, and the Albino. Barry and LeRoy rode the Shetland ponies. One was named LBJ after the president. In fact they were in a horse show with the ponies. It was the same day their grandfather died on March 31, 1971.

The Hesterman estate consisted of a large two story house with 5 bedrooms and three bathrooms upstairs and 3 more bedrooms and three bathrooms downstairs. A large living room, dining room, an atrium, a library and game room, a large kitchen and breakfast area were on the first floor also. A balcony extended from the second floor in the front of the house with a sweeping view of the city of San Jose below. Annie was hired by the Hestermans to clean the house on Saturday mornings. They arrived on some weekends and sometimes their four children would come to stay. They all liked to sleep outside on the balcony in their sleeping bags. When the Hesterman family arrived our family all went back to stay at Mt. Everest Court.

LeRoy, Sr. took care of the maintenance of the house and the 10 acres of land on the property. Mr. Hesterman wanted us to live there because he had trouble with vandals when the property was vacant.

The house had been a convalescent home for elderly people before the Hestermans bought it. We used to get phone calls from people looking for relatives that were previously at the rest home. We lived there off and on for about two years until the Hestermans moved into their house permanently.

One of Annie's first childhood accidents took place at St. Elizabeth's Day Home on the swing when somehow one of her pierced earrings was ripped off completely from her ear. After a few weeks of healing, our doctor pierced it again and it was as good as new.

Another accident at St. Elizabeth's when she hit the jungle gym coming down from the top and suffered a huge gash near her eyebrow.

In grade school at St. Joseph's she slid into home base on her face while playing baseball. She still has a visible scar on her cheek.

Speaking of scars she has another visible one on her chin caused by an inadvertent push from a certain older brother at the James Lick pool which resulted in a lot of blood in the pool. In today's world that would have caused a complete evacuation of the pool and draining all the water out.

Another bloody incident was when Annie was pumping Barry on the crossbar of her bike when his foot got caught in the front spoke. She flew over the top and landed on her face resulting in stitches on her upper lip.

More stitches a few years later while riding Pacer, our horse, without a bridle or saddle. Pacer took off down the hill and as Annie went over the top, he clipped her head with his hoof. When Annie was brought to the hospital and they said she would have to have stitches on the back of her head, all she was worried about was that they would have to shave her head. Fortunately they only shaved a small square of hair so there was no bald spot showing.

Fast forward to Annie's first car: her first and only car accident was when someone hit her from the rear which pushed her into the car in front of her. Each car was deemed responsible for the one in front of them. Not too serious but she said she learned a lot from the incident.

When Barry was about a year old, he was in his playpen and you would assume he would be safe in there. However, he started rocking back and forth until the playpen reached the ironing board with a hot iron left unguarded on it. He reached up and grabbed and proceeded to get burned bad enough to leave a scar. Another accident as a toddler at Myrna Boynton's house, he pulled a hot cup of coffee off the table and burned his arm and hand.

A few years later while riding his tricycle in the yard, Barry somehow jammed his hand under the hot barbecue pit and burned his hand again.

His last but worst burn accident occurred when he was about eight years old when we were using boiling water in the backyard to bend plastic pipes to plumb the upper yard barbecue pit. Ray was coming from the kitchen carrying the boiling water around the outdoor corner of the house when Barry came running around the corner in the opposite direction. Annie was just coming outside when she saw them collide. She found a gallon milk jug, washed it out and filled it with ice water and poured it over his chest all the way to the ER. He was crying (and also freezing) but was very brave. He ended getting treated and fitted with a soft cast that went from his shoulder to groin. Annie was afraid he would be disfigured but we were all amazed to see that he grew normal chest hair when he grew up and had minimal scarring. Annie was a real hero and kept her cool during the traumatic event.

Some less dramatic accidents that Barry had were being stepped on his toe by one of our pony’s, falling from the fort in the garage and impaling metal into his foot, a bike accident where his foot got caught in Annie's bike and they both flipped over the handle bars acquiring numerous bruises and scrapes. A broken thumb while diving from a cliff with Carol Cochrane, his cousin

Last, but not least was almost a near death experience while riding his Suzuki 500 motorcycle on his way home from his job at Orchard Supply. There was reflection of light in his lane that should not have been there. He tried to move to another lane when a car hit him head-on by a drunk driver driving in the wrong lane with his lights off. Luckily his motorcycle had "engine bars". His car hit Barry's engine bars and threw him off the bike. He skidded along the pavement and into a curb. Without the engine bars, he would have lost his left leg or would have been dead. The full face helmet also saved his life.

One of LeRoy's first accidents was about the age of 7 when Barry was chasing him down the stairs of the house. LeRoy was looking back at Barry and took a spill on the stairs, hitting the railing above his eye causing a cut which is still visible after all these years.

LeRoy's second and probably the worst childhood accident started in the garage when he and Barry were testing the Colman lamp that they were going to take on a camping trip with their dad. When they opened the tank to check it, the pressurized fuel sprayed all over much of LeRoy's body and the hot lantern plus the fuel caused a burst of flames, most on LeRoy's body. In a panic, he ran out the door into the back yard and luckily tripped into the fish pond, extinguishing the flames and saving LeRoy from getting seriously burned. There were no signs of burns on him and he didn't require any medical attention, which was quite miraculous.

As a teenager LeRoy and Barry took up surf boarding, mostly at the beach in Santa Cruz. LeRoy went off a wave and floated up from under the water just as his board was coming down from the air which resulted in a bloody and broken nose.

A dare-devil bike ride down the hill on Mt. Hamilton Road from James Lick Observatory without a shirt or helmet on resulted in a fall and skidding on gravel causing a nasty rash on his back and bad scars that were around for years.

Another accident which could have turned out with permanent injuries was when LeRoy was with Barry at Lake Mead. LeRoy jumped from the top of the houseboat with a raft. Instead of his body landing flat with the water, his legs went over backwards and bent back the wrong way. As he came up out of the water, he couldn't feel or move his legs. He called frantically to Barry who pulled him out of the water. Luckily, a few minutes later feeling came back, but he says his lower back still hurts to think about it.

LeRoy's first car was a 1963 bug that Barry sold him for $300. He was driving in downtown San Jose when came to a red light and pushed the brake pedal to the floor and kept pumping, but the brakes didn't work. In slow motion, he went through the intersection and a car hit him on the left side. He's still waiting for Barry to buy him a new car.

Another time while he was driving Dad's El Camino while transporting a refrigerator in the back that evidently was not secured properly. When he applied the brakes suddenly, the fridge flipped out of the back onto an adjacent sidewalk. Luckily there were no pedestrians around. Several people helped him put the fridge back in the car and secured it better. Not too much damage to the appliance.

When Senor Juan was out of town for a while, LeRoy borrowed his car without permission and was involved in a minor wreck. He had to spend all the money he had earned during the summer for repairs. Juan didn't find out until word of mouth got around and someone mentioned it to Juan who said some not so nice words in Spanish. He later forgave LeRoy and was happy he did not suffer any bodily injury.

One last accident took place in Oregon when Barry and LeRoy were fishing sitting in the middle of inner tubes. LeRoy stuck something sharp in his back pocket causing the inner tube to deflate and LeRoy starting floating down the river. Once again, Brother Barry came to the rescue.

One of the first accidents I remember in my childhood days was when I was about six years old and my brother, Ted, took me for a ride on his bike one early morning before the rest of the family was awake. Ted wasn't paying attention to where he was going and we rammed into the back of a parked car causing us to end up on the street. Ted hit his nose on the bike handles and I scraped my arm and leg leaving our blood at the scene of the accident. All Ted could say was "Don't tell Mom and Dad or I'll get in trouble."

A second accident was about a year later while I was riding my bike with some friends on the sidewalk adjacent to a small concrete wall. As I stopped and leaned over the wall, I lost my balance and fell about five feet on the rocks below scraping my face and arms.

I saw my first circus when I was eight years old in Texas when my mother and I went to visit Jano who was attending college at the University of Texas. I was enthralled with the whole show, but mostly with the trapeze artists. When we got home to Panama, I asked my dad if I could have a trapeze in our basement so he had one installed for me. I was already good at acrobats since I took lessons from my dancing teacher. I had a great time doing tricks on the trapeze, hanging by my knees, sometimes with only one leg as I went swinging back and forth. However I got a little too daring and slipped off the trapeze and fell on my head. My parents took me to the hospital for an x-ray, but everything was okay --- no concussion. Of course, all the neighbors heard about my fall, and as a result forbade their kids to play on the trapeze anymore.

Since the other kids in the neighborhood couldn't use my trapeze anymore due to fear of head or other injuries, I had it all to myself which made me happy. I promised my parents I would be careful and not try to swing on one leg anymore. When we moved to our two-story house on the beach two years later, I had to leave the trapeze behind, but I had outgrown it anyway. I had other things on my mind like high school, camera club, drama club, after-school sports, dances and parties.

One afternoon my best friend, Jane Compton, and I were trying to think of something new and different to do, Jane came up with the idea to take her father's sailboat out for a ride on the ocean. Her father often took us out for rides so we thought we could handle the boat by ourselves. With the help of Jane's brother, Harry, we managed to get the boat in the water which was only a few feet from our houses. We sailed to the breakwater which was about a mile away. Everything was going smoothly until a strong gust of wind knocked the boat almost over on its side. Somehow we brought it upright but the sail got soaking wet, which was a dead give away that the boat had been in the water. However, it didn't matter because Jane's neighbor, Mr. Doyle had been watching from his window and had observed every detail of our trip and gave Mr. Compton a full report of what went on. Anyway, none of the parents got very mad, but made us promise not to do that again.

Anyway, I made it through childhood with very few serious injuries and no broken bones.