Sometime during the morning hours of August 14, 1935, a young married couple enters the Sargeant Maternity Hospital in Santa Ana, California. The Sergeant Maternity Hospital was located at 106 East 16th Street in Santa Ana. Basically the hospital was on the corner of North Main Street and East 16th Street. This hospital no longer exists, replaced with apartments and a Physic Reader business. On this August morning after some preparation, Dr. Paul E. Rumph, assisted by nurses Mrs. Goldy Sargeant and Mrs. Helen Noe, delivers an eight pound four ounce male child. Dr. Rumph slaps the child’s buttocks, the baby boy screams and breathes on his own. It is 11:00 A.M. Wednesday morning and the mother, Pauline Gwendolyn Price, is exhausted but overjoyed to hear the cries of her son. The father, Robert Otto Price, is pacing in the Father’s Waiting Room as nervous as he was two years prior after the Long Beach earthquake struck and he was left standing in the middle of the street. His nervousness disappears at the sight of his wife and newborn son. The new father now beams with pride also. You ask how do I know this scene is as described? It could be said, “I was there, I should know.” Well, all the facts are correct, but the rest is my imagination. Yet this portrayal of events is a very reasonable description of the scene on that August morning so long ago.
Now my folks were faced with naming their newborn son. Medical science had not progressed to the point the sex of a fetus could be determined prior to birth—-you had to wait until the child was born. Did they have a boy and girl name pre-selected, or did it require some thought and discussion? Since the birth certificate was not filed until August 26, 1935, perhaps they had some time to settle on my name. However, whatever the process, I was given the name Royal Burton Price. Why this name? When I ask Mom, some years later, she replied, “You were named after two favorite uncles, Roy and Al. Your middle name is also for another favorite uncle, Burton.” I have told and retold this story of my naming for many years. I believe it is a great story of how a child is named carrying family history to another generation. Now that I have begun research into my family, there is a possibility that I misunderstood Mom’s response.
Mom’s uncles had to be brothers of either Granddad Graham or Grandmother Graham. Granddad Graham did not have brothers that Mom would have known, but Grandmother Graham had five brothers named John Edward, Carl Isaac, Harry E., Burton E. and Roy H. Clifford. It seems the Uncles John and Harry died before Mom would have had a chance to know them. There is no data as to when Carl died, but it is doubtful he is Uncle Al. However, Mom would have known Roy and Burton. So, who was Uncle Al? Did he even exist? My baby book helps answer these questions.
Grandmother Minnie Graham gave this baby book to Mom after recording some information about my name, where we lived and the usual baby milestones and so forth. Grandmother Graham recorded that I was named after her brothers, Royal and Burton Clifford. However, all census records and his obituary list Royal Clifford’s first name as Roy, not Royal. Why is that? Potentially, there are two reasons; perhaps there are more. First, his family knew him as Royal, but he was known as Roy to all his friends and the Aledo community. Second, Great-Grandmother Clifford provided his name to the census enumerators and his name was recorded as Roy. Was it recorded in error? Great-Grandmother’s country of origin may explain why it was recorded as Roy.
Researching the Clifford family background, I discovered that each census record listed different spellings for my Great-Grandmother Clifford’s first name. Although I have settled on Gwen, there were at least two other spellings of her name: Guin and Guinne. Gwen emigrated from Wales at the age of about ten, so I suspect her speech had Welsh characteristics in pronouncing words and names. It was common for new immigrants to have their names misspelled due to language pronunciation differences. I once remember, long ago, seeing the name Royl written on a piece of paper. There is no recollection of the family name, but I suspect it was Clifford. Could it be that Roy Clifford’s first name was pronounced Royl but spelled Roy in all documents? Regardless of being “officially” listed as Roy, Grandmother Graham and Mom considered his name to be Royal, however census enumerators spelled it. Mom’s two favorite uncles had to be Royal and Burton Clifford. Why couldn’t there have been an Uncle Al? Personally, I prefer my interpretation of Mom’s original explanation of three favorite uncles. Should I continue to tell this original story? What do I know about these two favorite uncles?
Great-Uncle Royal H. Clifford was a farmer in Mercer County, Illinois most of his life. He died at the age of 53 in Rock Island, Illinois after a long illness. To my knowledge, at the time of his death, Grandmother Minnie was the only remaining child of Edward and Gwen Clifford. Great-Uncle Royal had not married, thus Grandmother Minnie Graham and Mom were his only surviving relatives. At this time, my family research had not uncovered any surviving nieces and nephews of Grandmother Graham.
Burton Emory Clifford decided that farming was not his passion and pursued a college education. He started his education at Burlington Institute in Iowa, went to the University of Chicago and finally earned his law degree from Kent College of Law in Chicago. Earning his law degree in 1898, he moved to Iola, Kansas and was admitted to the bar. In 1903 Burton was elected prosecuting attorney of Allen County. He served two terms as the county’s prosecuting attorney before returning to private practice. Burton was highly regarded in the Iola community and belonged to several attorney organizations and quite a few fraternal groups. At some point in his life he married Lucille Miller in Rock Island, Illinois. They had no children of record. I have seen a portrait photo of Burton but can no longer find it. However, I recently found a small photo of Burton.
A newspaper article in an Iola newspaper indicated Burton died on December 25, 1917, at the age of 46. Based on Mom’s school records she was seven years old and attending the First Grade in Iola when Burton died. I am sure this must have been a great shock to Grandmother Graham and Mom, not to mention his wife, Lucille. He must have been a special man to have impressed Mom to have named me after him.
I must admit that originally I hated my first name, Royal. It was too unusual to suit me. I wished my name was Jim or Tom or Bill or ??? Royal seemed to separate me from other boys, and due to other circumstances, seemed to further isolate me. However, as I grew older, I began to appreciate the name; its uniqueness provided a real identity and has become a source of pride.
Besides officially naming me, my birth certificate provides some other interesting facts. Although I was born in Santa Ana, my folks resided in Orange at 182 1/2 North Waverly Street. Dad’s occupation is listed as a topographic draftsman and that he had held this job for four years. Mom was listed as a housewife for the past three years. A recent photo of this residence is shown. The actual apartment may be located to the rear of this house. Satellite maps indicate a potential residence in a separate structure at the driveway’s end.
182 1/2 North Waverly Street
One of my folk’s friends holds me for my first photo. It is assumed this photo was taken at the Waverly Street address.
Based on my birth certificate, Dad’s records and Grandmother’s residence list in my baby book, we were constantly moving. How long they lived at the Waverly Street address in Orange is not clear; but after my birth, we stayed only about three months. A table of residences illustrates the movement of a very itinerant family for nearly nine years.
The time periods at the Riverside and the Sixth Street residences are estimates based on information found in my baby book. It came as a total surprise that we moved so often after I was born, especially the short time spent in Riverside. Of course, some of these first places, I have no memory of being at these houses. I was under two years old and would not have any direct memory of living there. Although the Sixth Street place no longer exists, the address is next to the Orange County jail. I know the area because it is across the street from the Santa Ana Bowl. The Cubbon Street and South Orange Street residences still exist, and recent photos have been taken of these houses.
515 Cubbon Street
2003 South Orange Street
The overgrowth of trees obscures a clear view of the Orange Street house, but a recently discovered document adds another unknown. This document indicates Grandmother Minnie Graham was issued car insurance at this address. That fact certainly adds another unknown to the Price history.
After my first photo, there is a gap of about 16 months before more photos were taken. Plus, I was told that at about 18 months of age, Grandmother and Mom took me by train to visit folks in Aledo, Illinois. There are some photos of me at about this age; these photos may have been taken in Aledo.
What is my first memory that I can recall? There are two events that I can recall, which I consider my first memories. One an accident; the other was a movie. Both of these recollections occurred while we lived at the Edinger house. My first recollection of where we lived was at this house. Why do I remember this house? It is remembered because a traumatic event occurred there. I believe this event is probably one of my first memories, if not the first. Granddad’s cousin “Peaches” Graham, his wife Louise and their adult son, Jack, were visiting us. During the course of the adult conversations, I noticed Jack, sitting in straight chair, leaning back on the two rear legs. I was sitting on a small four-legged stool and decided to emulate how Jack was leaning back. I leaned back, fell over and struck my head on the edge of a fireplace. The blow broke my scalp, and it was bleeding. I remember Dad using a wet washcloth, or washrag, pressing the wound to stop the bleeding. What a first memory!! What is your first memory? This house also still exists and is shown in a recent photo.
212 East Edinger Street
I believe the following photo of me was taken while we lived at the Edinger house. This image is a black and white photo that has been tinted to provide color. This “tinting” process was common at this time, because color film was not readily available. You will notice my hair is a reddish color, which Grandmother Graham noted in my baby book.
Age Three or Four
We lived in the Edinger house from when I was two years old until I was nearly four years old. While living there my playmate was none other than Don Drysdale. Yes, he was to become the future pitcher for the Brooklyn and Los Angeles Dodgers. Do I remember playing with him? Actually, no. I know he was my playmate, because Mom told me we played together. It seems the Drysdales lived in the house behind ours. I have seen a photo of two young boys with Mom’s handwriting on the back indicating it is a photo of Don and me. This story about Don Drysdale raises questions about what one remembers about the past.
I believe there are at least three types of memories one has of events in your life. First, there is a “real” memory, which I define as a direct memory. Hitting my head on the fireplace is an example. Second, there is a “synthetic” memory which I define as a memory based upon a third person telling you something that happened in your life. The Don Drysdale story is an excellent example of this type of memory. Finally, there is a “hybrid” recollection, which I define as a combination of a “real” and “synthetic” memory recollection. Of course, this last memory type has the characteristic that it is hard to separate what is “real” and what is “synthetic”. Separating what happened and what you are told is very difficult, because over time, the brain integrates the two sources of information such that all information stored in the brain merges into a “real” recollection.
Memories, or recollections, for me are usually associated with visual images. In fact, another of my earliest memories is seeing the Walt Disney movie “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”. There is an image of standing in line at the theatre box office with Mom and Grandmother Graham. The theatre was on Main Street, one or two blocks south of Fourth Street. The next image I remember occurs near the beginning of the movie with the dwarfs marching along singing, “Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s home from work we go!” and Dopey bringing up the rear. How old was I? I am not sure, but the movie was released December 21, 1937. Best guess is that it was early 1938 when I saw the movie, which would mean I was probably about two and a half years old at the time. We would have been living at the Edinger house in 1938, so my head splitting episode and attending the movie would have occurred when we lived in that house. Which event came first? No way of telling, but perhaps hitting my head first jarred my brain enough to activate my memory cells to allow me to remember the movie.
At times I am able to relate what my thoughts were and why I decided to act in a certain way. Attempting to lean back to copy Jack is a good example. At other times I have no idea what was coursing through my brain at the time. The stories that have been written about in the other essays are based on hearing the story told to me. However, most of the memories I write about are based on a visual image and what thought process, if any, were occurring at the time.
It is interesting to note that while I remember living at the Edinger house, I have no recollection of living at the house on Ross Street. Why I remember Edinger and not Ross is unusual. If Edinger is memorable, why is there a blank for Ross? Did I see the Disney movie before hitting my head causing black outs for the Ross
house? Not remembering the Ross house does have a logical explanation. It seems the brain does not fully develop until about the age of nine or ten. As a result, some childhood memories are “erased” during this developing process. The Ross Street house is shown in a recent photo.
1017 North Ross Street
After living at the Ross house for nearly a year we moved to the Cypress house. Essentially this house was across the street from the Edinger house. The photo of the Cypress house was taken about 10 to 12 years ago and appears as I remember it, except there was no chain link fence when we lived there. Today the house does not exist. Recent photos of this address show a new house indicating this one has been torn down and a new one built. However, several current satellite maps show the original Cypress house still exists as shown below. Very strange!
1461 Cypress Street
Cypress is one block east of South Main Street and traffic on it was visible from the house. There was a vacant lot across the street and due west of the house, which provided a view of Main Street. There was a Helm’s Bakery warehouse on the Northwest corner of Edinger Street and South Main Street. Helm’s Bakery trucks visited neighborhood residential streets blowing their horns to announce themselves, selling fresh bread, cakes, pies and all sorts of pastries. These trucks also sold Jewel Tea dishes, which Mom bought from time to time. These dishes are now collector items. We moved to the Cypress Street house in the summer of 1940. In October of 1940 we drove east to visit Dad’s relatives in Garden City, Kansas. This trip to Kansas will be highlighted in a separate essay. It is assumed I started Kindergarten in September 1940, but maybe not starting until we returned from Kansas. There is no way to tell for sure, but my public school education did start in 1940, just after turning five years old.
The school I attended was Spurgeon Grammar School, which was about a 3/4-mile walk from the house. I have no memories of walking to school although that was my only way to get there. In fact, there is the hint of a memory of Mom walking me to school, maybe only on the first day of school. I believe there was a morning and afternoon session, and I attended the morning session; but I am not positive. The only memory I have of Kindergarten was that we had to take a nap each day. I remember that shoes had to be removed for the nap. After a nap, I have a visual image of looking down at my feet and realizing my shoes were on the wrong feet. I am not even sure I knew how to tie my shoes yet—sure seems I was a klutz. The Spurgeon Grammar School has been re-built and is now named Ben Franklin Elementary. However, the entrance appears as I remember it in this recent photo of the school. Notice the date above the entrance as 1934.
Ben Franklin/Spurgeon Elementary School
While at Spurgeon and living on Cypress I do not remember having any playmates. There was no one at school or anyone in our neighborhood. I do remember our next door neighbor had two teen age sons, and I remember going to their house and talking with them; but no there was no playmates at all. However, Auntie Gladys lived due west of of us, it seems like a couple of blocks past Main Street. She and Cousins Donna and Billy were sometime visitors at our house. We also visited Auntie Gladys’ house. Auntie Gladys had divorced and was married to Harold Haskill (best guess at his first name). Harold had a young son (about two years younger than me) from a previous marriage, but I do not remember his name. Donna and Billy were four and two years older than me. A photo of all three of us was taken at the Cypress house. Notice I have a Teddy Bear— I forgot I had one until the photo was discovered. I remember sleeping with Teddy for many years, until at least I was seven or eight.
Royal, Donna and Billy
There are some other photos taken at the Cypress house, which illustrate some of my activities while we lived there. Plus, there are a couple of photos of me all duded up in a silly looking suit and one with Mom. In my dress-up suit, check out where my pants are—-almost to my arm pits!!
In addition to the photo of Mom and me, there is one of Dad; I’m sure dressed for work. Wow!! Dad went from being a cowboy to a draftsman wearing a tie in just a few years.
Here is a photo of me approaching the house with one roller skate on and one off. I do remember learning to roller skate while at the Cypress house. I continued roller-skating, primarily after we moved to the Sebren house in 1944.
Then there is a photo of me getting a drink from the most logical source of water while outside the house. Later in childhood, drinking from the garden hose was another means for quenching your thirst. Mothers today would worry about nasty germs or just faint. It was the natural thing to do back in the “olden days”. However, Cousin Carol has indicated she was never permitted to drink from a faucet or hose. Rules could vary from parent to parent; or maybe boys had different rules than girls.
Granddad and Grandmother Graham were a large part of my life while we lived in Santa Ana. I remember spending more time with them than with Mom and Dad; at least it seems that way. I believe there are more memories of them than my folks, because there were so many things to do at their place, and I had no one to play with at home. There is only one photo of me with Grandmother Graham, and I appear to be about three years old.
Granddad and Grandmother lived on the ten hundred block of North Parton Street, which was very near the North Garnsey Street house where Mom lived when she met Dad. They lived in a small house set back quite a ways from the street. It may even have been an apartment. However, looking at satellite photos it appears a large apartment complex exists there now. There was a small neighborhood grocery store on the corner of North Garnsey and West 10th Street that Grandmother and I would walk to for groceries. I thought staying overnight with Granddad and Grandmother was a real treat. Grandmother would fix popcorn in the fireplace with a long handled popcorn popper. This popper consisted of a rectangular metal pan with a wire screen cover. Popping corn was a real treat. A couple of times while staying overnight, I had an earache. Grandmother’s remedy was to put salt in a small cloth flour bag, heat it in the oven and place it on my aching ear. Best I can remember it worked. Besides walking to the store and sleeping over night there were other activities with both Granddad and Grandmother.
Grandmother and I would walk to downtown Santa Ana to shop. Downtown was Fourth Street from about Birch Street to Spurgeon Street which was two blocks east of Main Street. I was in seventh heaven when I was able to go to Newberry’s and Kress’, called five and dime stores. These stores no longer exist but were every kid’s dream to shop at for many years. Granddad would take me to the Santa Ana Bowl to watch softball games and was a short walk from their place. Plus, he and I would “pick” walnuts from a walnut tree behind their house. We used a long pole with a tin can attached to one end of the pole. We also picked up walnuts that had fallen from the tree.
One day Grandmother took me to see Granddad where he worked. Ironically, Granddad worked at a place that touches the Price side of the family. You may remember this photo from a previous essay.
Fairhaven Memorial Park
Yes, the same cemetery where Great-Granddad Robert S. Price and Granddad Robert A. Price are buried! Granddad Graham was the caretaker at the cemetery. What a shock when this coincidence was discovered while doing family research. It certainly raises the question why my parents and grandparents never revealed this fact to me. It certainly makes one wonder why the silence? However, staying at my grandparents’ house provided other adventures at heir next-door neighbors.
I believe my most memorable adventures occurred at Mr. & Mrs. Wilkins’ house. I would guess the Wilkins were in their 50s since they had sons in college. The Wilkins’ backyard was huge and had lots of room to explore. I would spend hours at the Wilkins’ investigating all sorts of things. They had a fishpond with goldfish, rabbits, a dog and I don’t remember what else. Here are some photos in their backyard with rabbits, the fishpond and a dog.
My photo with the dog raises an interesting point. I do not believe that dog is the Wilkins’ dog, because I have an image of a long haired dog as theirs; their dog nipped me one time while playing with him. I discovered a handwritten note of Mom’s in my Baby Book indicating we acquired dog named Jigs for one Christmas. However, Jigs was killed by a car, which upset me. The note further indicated I overcame the sadness as time passed. Based on this note,I believe the dog in the photo is Jigs. Although I have no memory of Jigs or his death, perhaps the loss of Jigs is the basis for my love of dogs.
However, the greatest adventures when staying with my grandparents was on Friday nights. The Wilkins went fishing every Friday night at the Newport Beach Pier. Granddad and I would go with them to the pier. I did not fish but roamed about the pier watching all the fishermen and their activities. Watching people bait their hooks, casting and retrieving fish was very intriguing to a young boy learning of the world. I will never forget the night someone caught what he called a Shovelnose Shark. This shark is also called a Shovelnose Guitarfish. It is a bottom feeding fish that can attain a length of four and a half feet when mature. This internet photo of this shark looks as I remember seeing it on that Friday night over 70 years ago.
Santa Ana memories ended when we moved to Long Beach in August 1941. However, there were other events in Santa Ana which affected our family, primarily Dad and his job.
In late February and early March 1938, two tropical storms moved up from the western coast of Mexico, which produced abnormal amounts of rain in Los Angeles, Orange and Riverside Counties. These storms produced what was considered a 50 Year Flood. Orange County was especially hard hit, because the Santa Ana River had no flood control dams at the time. An eight-foot high wall of water exited Santa Ana Canyon, overflowed its banks near the intersection of Glassell Street and La Palma Avenue and flooded cities west of the river from Anaheim to Fountain Valley and to the coast. The damage and loss of life was extensive. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers began building the Prado Dam in November 1938 at the entrance to the canyon near Corona and Chino, although plans for building the dam were initiated in 1934. This flood clearly showed the dam was required. How did this flood and dam touch our family?
Based on information on my birth certificate Dad was a topographic draftsman at my birth. In the previous essay I decided he had worked for the Orange County Flood Control District (OCFCD). Mom had told me Dad worked on the building of the Prado Dam, and I believed that was while he worked at OCFCD. Coming across information regarding Dad’s employment, I discovered he worked for the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers for about eight months from September 1937 to April 1938 as an Engineering Aide. Thus, I believe Dad worked on the design phase of the dam while working for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. In April 1938 he rejoined the OCFCD working as a Jr. Civil Engineer/Engineer Draftsman. There is no employment record prior to his starting the U.S. Army job, but I am assuming it was with the OCTCD. The OCTCD was involved with the dam construction but to what extent I am not sure. It is very interesting that according to Mom, Dad was in charge of building the dam. Dad told me a story about driving to the dam site one rainy day. The Santa Ana Canyon Road at the time was a narrow two-lane highway twisting its way through the canyon. It was dark on the way to the dam site and just as he rounded a curve a huge boulder rolled across the highway about 10 feet in front of his car. If he had been a few seconds earlier the boulder would have smashed into the car and pushed him off the road into ???. I will say over a cliff into the Santa Ana River, but that would be rather dramatic. I just do not remember what he said, but he did consider it as a “whew I dodged that one” moment. Dam construction ended by May 1941. Dad worked for OCFCD until September 1941 when he joined the Federal Civil Service to work for the U.S. Navy at the Terminal Island Naval Air Station in San Pedro. When Dad accepted this position we moved to Long Beach.
While memories of Santa Ana are sketchy; for the most part, these remembrances are happy ones. My world began to expand due to the time spent with my grandparents, the trip to Kansas and meeting my Auntie Gladys and cousins Donna and Billy. I carry fond memories of Grandmother Graham and my time with her. In Santa Ana there are more fond memories of time with Grandmother than Granddad, mostly I believe, because he was working during the day. Memories of my relationship with Granddad occurred when he lived with us at the Sebren house.
I only experienced a relationship with one set of grandparents because Granddad and Grandmother Price were gone before I ever and a chance to know them. It is sad to know only two of your grandparents, because missing the experiences of knowing all four grandparents diminishes your world in untold ways. This sadness increases when the one that provided such great early childhood memories died too soon. Unfortunately, Grandmother did not get to see me grow up because she died six months after we moved to Long Beach.
While it was my intention for this essay to relate the early years through the spring of 1944, alas, I became too wordy. It is amazing how so few memories take so many words to tell. Before continuing the early years in Long Beach the next essay will be devoted to some experiences related to the Kansas trip and a couple of other memories from 1940 and early 1941.
