Trailer Park Snooze

When I was a baby, we lived in a trailer park. My dad was working at General Motors and my mom was a housewife, which was a pretty typical setup for the time period. I don’t remember much about the trailer park, but I do remember an elderly couple who lived there who took a liking to me. The wife had lost one of her legs to gangrene and was in a wheelchair. I don’t know anything about them other than that, but I like to think they were a good influence on my parents, who were young and just starting out. 

During this time, my parents started taking me on car rides in the afternoon to put me to sleep. This resulted in me not learning how to put myself to sleep. I’m not sure how long this lasted, but on the night my mother decided to put a stop to it, I rebelled. Well, I’m not sure if I was old enough to know that I was rebelling, but in any event, I caused a fuss. I mean a real fuss. So loud in fact that the neighbors in the surrounding trailers began knocking on my parents' door, asking if I was okay. Some wanted to know if I was teething. Others, I’m sure, thought something dreadful must be going on inside our home.

Despite all of the neighborly concern, however, no one called Child Protective Services and after a few nights of constant crying, I learned to put myself to sleep. Still, to this day, a good car ride still makes me nod off. 

 

The E.K. Rogers Family

Image taken from the Heritage and History Calendar, 2013, which is sponsored by the Veteran's Museum, Hinton, WV.