My Dad was 2 years old in this snap shot. He had a wagon, tryke and a Mickey Mouse ready to go in his back yard arena. His parents old house in Coronado has now been replaced by a two story McMansion. Here's proof Coronado once had a place for the every man and woman-back in the day. I know it to be true and I remember such vestigages around town and family stories of working peoples simpler lives AND add the physical presence of the old wood shingle garage (which held a horse before the Model-T Ford). When I came along the house and yard had been much gardened up and modernized to late 40's specifications of modern. The back garage I recall was the homing pigeon hospital, backyard tool, storage and generally a dark place of wonder that always smelled of bird seed, fertilizer and linseed oil. My Grand Dad spoke quietly as he transferred his pigeons loved & cared for on their way into or out of the garage space where they were kept when they were ill. My Sister and I remember him as funny, strong, healthful, loving, and always joking with his fellow Pigeon Homing Enthusiasts or toughening up us grand kids with his teasing while resting in his recliner in his Khaki uniform pants and shirt with key ring full of keys. My Dad viewed by me as a little boy in this photo brings up lots of good memories of that house. More importly though, this photo reminds me of where we begin in life and where ever we go - if we pack our bags, get dependable transportation, carry our load balanced and have someone to love, (even if that someone is a stuffed Mickey Mouse) that I'm guaranteed to get where I am going and may not need look farther than my own back yard.
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