With dad still in the service, they moved around quite a bit before, and after, my sister and I were born. Mom used to talk about living in Spokane, Washington; Biloxi, Mississippi; San Antonio, Texas; and Denver, Colorado.
Here they are on top of Pikes Peak, probably while they lived in Denver. Decades later, mom still would complain that dad cracked the block of their car on the drive to the top of the Peak, though I doubt he had any direct responsibility for that, beyond actually driving the car.
She used to also tell me the story of a young woman with whom she shared an apartment in the war years while living not far from the bank where she worked in West Hollywood. The young woman owed her for the monthly rent but skipped out without paying and disappeared.
Shift ahead to the later 40's, when she and dad were living in Denver. One afternoon while she was walking along Colfax Avenue (I have lived near Colfax for nearly 20 years now), whom should she spy walking toward her but the very same young woman who had skipped out without paying her portion of the rent a few years earlier? Mom always laughed as she described the shocked look upon the other woman's face when she recognized my mother, a woman she probably never expected to see again. Mom used to offer that as an example of how one's past can always catch up, no matter where or when one might least expect it.
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