It's true, January 4th is my birthday. I admit to turning 67...there's just no use trying to fool anyone. I'm not a "spring chicken" anymore...I'm a true "old hen."
Of course in January 1942 everyone was a little up tight. Less than a month before Pearl Harbor had been bombed, we were at war. There were blackouts and people were scared that all of America's coastal cities could be bombed at anytime.
But back to the story of this particular day ~ I was told that my dad was working 12 hour shifts as a train dispatcher, from 7pm until 7am. So mom was home alone when she realized that the time had come. There was no one who could take her to the hospital, so she called a taxi. She told me, even though dad wasn't able to be there, she felt at home once she checked in, because she had been working in the Maternity Ward there (she was a registered nurse) and knew lots of the staff. She tried to hang on until dad could get off work but I didn't wait. I was born at 5:27am, Sunday morning, January 4, 1942. Dad raced to Tacoma General Hospital, as soon as he was relieved at work, to be at mom's side. I was looking in my baby book yesterday afternoon and it's dad's writing that filled in all the details. He must have been a proud dad. Usually it's the mom that does that. He even wrote in my birth weight (7 lbs 8oz) and height ( 1 foot 8-1/2 inches)...that made me laugh...mom would have written 20-1/2 inches.
I noticed an interesting note in the back of my baby book; mom wrote "registered on January 29, 1942 with D.A.R. at McCarver School. Identification to be used in case of air raids. Number 9356." I'll have to do some research on that.
Meanwhile, I'm so thankful, that I was born to William (Bill) and Edythe (Edy)Smith. They were the best parents a kid could ever ask for.
I had a lovely evening last night with my brother & sister in law. They took my to Anthony's Restaurant in Olympia~Coconut prawns~yummy!