Dear Diary

When I was ten years old, my Aunt Hattah gave me a five year diary. I kept something written in it every day for the next five years.
Today I saw it in a drawer. The lock is still locked. No key. But when I looked at the side, someone had cut the leather strap away so I, or anyone else, could read it.

Most of the entries say, "I practiced." That would have been on the piano. My parents got me a Kimball spinet piano and I took lessons for a long time. There are mentions of skating to the library, playing paper dolls, ping pong, Goal High, basketball and catch. Riding bicycles to the movies. I don't remember much of this stuff. I wonder if other people remember much of their childhood.

There are some mystifying entries: Dad got mad at me. No reason given why. During these years I started driving at fourteen - it was legal. To get a license the questions were, Are you color blind, do you have epileptic seizures. No and no. That'll be fifty cents. And this was not a learners permit.
We drove all over.

On April 12th, "Pres. Roosevelt died in '45! It's awful. The war may last longer."

On June 6, 1944 I have written in big letters, "Invasion of Europe in '44!"
This is all written in pencil and is fading. Some pages are very hard to read.

We skated a lot and went to many movies. One theater accepted pop bottle caps instead of a dime on Saturdays. After we got there (I think it was the Midland) we decided to go to the Fox instead. They didn't take bottle caps and I didn't have a dime so we had to go back to the Midland.

What amazes me that most of this stuff I don't remember at all!