I am documenting the heck out of important aspects of my life while I am still able. I have already recorded memories of:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Someone’s missing, and that someone is my sister Milly<\/strong>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n Milly Margaret Freeman<\/strong> was born on April 19, 1940 in Cleveland Ohio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She had an older brother: Hal Jr<\/strong>, aka Butchie<\/strong>. <\/em> My young years were carefree and optimistic, as we want them to be for all kidsI<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Milly was not so lucky in her young years. She grew up with the dark cloud of having her older brother dying in the next room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This was during and after WW2. I’m picturing a small apartment or house with Butchie living at home in one bedroom, wasting away from a disease that was deadly then, but would have a miracle drug cure with the decade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the other bedroom was young Milly trying to live a normal little girl life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I hadn’t quite made it to my first birthday when he passed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Butchie dies, parents divorce, we all go back to the midwest<\/p>\n\n\n\n My parents got divorced in 1949. The next year we all moved to Springfield, Missouri, where my dad’s family was from. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Whatever the reasons, it adds up to a less than great childhood for my sister. Her older brother dying and her parents getting divorced in roughly the same year, when she was in third or fourth grade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Just doing the math, she must have started grade school in Long Beach and done junior high in Springfield and high school in Louisville.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We moved to Louisville in the summer of 1954. My mom bought a little house in the middle-class suburbs where we both lived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was excited about starting first grade<\/strong> in our new . She was excited about starting ninth grade<\/strong>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n She went to Atherton<\/strong>, the best public stownchool in Louisville, as any graduate will be happy to tell you :).<\/p>\n\n\n\n She did very well there. She was an academic star her whole life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She was 8 years older, so even though we were in the same house, we were in entirely different worlds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was a dorky little grade-schooler and she was a new-in-town, attractive but difficult-to-know high schooler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She had a boyfriend in high school named Gordon that was pretty into her as I remember it. He came over to our house all the time! But she was not so enthused. That romance didn’t survive past the high school graduation summer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She did SO WELL at Atherton that she was admitted to Smith College<\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In late summer of 1958<\/strong> we packed up the Chevy and delivered Milly to Northampton MA<\/strong>. It’s humid in Louisville in the summer of course, but there was something stiflingly uncomfortable about the humidity in central Massachusetts that June that I still remember!<\/p>\n\n\n\n She was always adamant that Harvard decided to take a chance on me becaus<\/em>e she was such a stellar student at Smith.
He lived for to 10 years old, from 1937 to 1946.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My dad was a doctor in a Long Beach military hospital. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
I think that Butchie’s death had a lot to do with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\nLouisville<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
She was probably right!<\/em> :))
It probably would not have occurred to me to apply to Harvard if she had not trailblazed the way<\/em>!!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nTimelime and a note on the last decades<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
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They will be easy enough fill in later if they turn up.<\/li>\n\n\n\n