~ Growing Without Roots ~

My childhood was amazing and unique. In fact, it ruined my life in many ways. I remember when I was seven, listening to the radio in my parents' room in Australia, eyes closed, lying on the rug with my head on a pillow, the sound of the branches and leaves blowing in the wind outside. I often wonder, is this a dream and am I still in Australia? Will I wake up and be able to do it all differently? Or is this my life and my memories will always be an albatross around my neck?

1952 Normandy Version 1.0

We moved to Notre Dame de Gravenchon in early 1952 when I was about 4-1/2 years old. My memories are pretty vague. For probably one of the only times in my life, I don’t remember us having a dog. I know I would not have forgotten if we had.

Dot was our house

On the other hand, we were only there around 2 years, maybe less. My dad was working for the engineering company at the Port Jerome oil refinery. At the time it was one of the biggest in Europe. It was the first time my mother had lived out of the country, and I think she loved it.

The refinery at Port Jerome

We left Normandy in June 1953. We traveled on the SS Liberte, the flagship of la Compagnie Generale Transatlantique (i.e., the French Line). We had come from New York on the Ile de France, her sister ship. I don’t remember that trip though.

When we got back to the US, we stayed with my aunt Audrey and uncle Abbey until we left for Colombia.