Good morning, all! I was quite tired so I went to bed as soon as THE CLOSER ended andslept around 10 hours. I haven't decided if I stayed in bed too long, but I am up and moving about. Today, I have a trip to NYPL at Lincoln Center, a few errands, and another audition.
My earliest memory is my maternal grandfather's death in January 1948, when I was seventeen months old. I have brief memories from before or after that of being rocked, and sung to, by my grandmother or perhaps one of my aunts, since my parents lived with my grandparents, my unmarried Aunt Dorothy, my mother's oldest sister, and my mother's two brothers who were still in high school. My memory of my grandfather's death is the visitation the night before the funeral since I doubt I was taken to the funeral the following day.
I can still see the coffin surrounded by flowers of vivid colors, and I remember leaving the McCoy-Leffler funeral home, which was then situated at the intersection of Broad street and First Avenue, with my parents, late on a winter night night and marveling at Broad Street, which was black and shiny from the ice on the street reflecting the street lamps. Most of my memories of that time are vague, my grandfather's funeral remains quite vivid.
