What is the very first thing you remember? Everything I’ve read on the subject of memory suggests it is unusual to remember anything before the age of 5. Whatever the age, I believe our earliest memory involves trauma.
My earliest recollection took place on Sunnyhill Drive in Worcester, Mass. I was playing in the sandbox in the backyard of the neighbor’s house with several older children when one of the boys told me to drink the sand I was pouring in my toy cup, and like the trusting blob of a developing person that I was, I did it.
That in itself is not what formed the permanent impression. I don’t recall choking or crying. I don’t even remember being uncomfortable. But I do remember what happened next.
A quarrel broke out between the kids who laughed at me and the others who felt remorse. The mom came out of the house with a concerned look on her face. Someone must have told because she produced a glass of water and told me to sip it and spit it out again. Drinking but not swallowing was a new concept and I remember the mom teaching it to me and scolding the troublemakers at the same time, all while I remained seated in the sandbox.
I believe the reason I remember this little drama is because it introduced me to betrayal. I walked away from the sandbox intact, no chronic nightmares or fear, but to this day betrayal is what hurts me most.
Many years later, I relayed this story to my astonished mother. She vaguely recalled it too. She filled in the details of that particular house at the top of the hill and the family who lived there. Turns out, I was brought there to play quite often as my mother gave birth to more babies. We moved from that street in 1960. I was 3.
I wonder then, how old was I when I was ordered to drink the sand? Two? 18 months? Would an expert say it’s impossible I remembered that when my mom and I both knew it to be true?
I remember many other things about life on Sunnyhill Drive too, like wanting to help my mother wash the dishes but facing resistance for the bigger mess I would create. It was my dad’s intervention one night that got me to the sink. I remember standing on a chair to reach it.
We had a little stone retaining wall in the backyard. I remember sitting in the grass near my mom as she gardened and getting bitten by a garter snake one day. I kind of remember screaming my head off.
Some of my impressions of life under the age of 3 were very pleasant. My dad used to come home from work and walk me down the hill to the playground at the bottom of our street. He used to put me on a leash. Can you imagine? He’d probably get arrested if he pulled that in 2010, but my memories of these walks to the playground, me leashed and trotting ahead of my dad, are sweet.
When we moved to 535 Chandler Street, I remember the commotion when one of two derelict barns on the property burned to the ground our first week there. I remember getting delivered to the homes of neighbors we didn’t yet know for supervision while my parents attended to the disaster in our yard. I was 3 years old at the time.
From there, the remaining years growing up on Chandler Street are blurred. I lived there until I went to college, so did a particular event at home occur when I was 7? Or 10? Did we take down the crumbling tree house when I was 11? Or 16?
It’s difficult to bookmark a point in time when the surroundings of that time looked the same. But take a pure and developing mind, shake it up and disturb it a bit, and that little snapshot on the brain might last forever.
So, am I right? Are first memories always traumatic ones? Please tell me what you think.
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{ 26 comments… read them below or add one }
My earliest memory is that of my newborn brother coming home from the hospital. I was 3 at the time. Nothing traumatic about it for me, although my parents were so poor at the time that my father had to build my brother’s crib himself.
Must admit that things are pretty hazy before that.
Great post Ralph! Thank you. We’re part of the “3 year olds with memory” club.
My earliest memory seems to be me, lying on my back on my bed screaming that I won’t go to sleep and banging my feet against the common wall between my room and my parents room. It didn’t take long for my father to come in and paddle me for that performance. I know I couldn’t have been older than 3 because of the room and house. Interesting topic.
Maureen, My daughter recalls quite vividly you sitting her on your lap at Hancock Airport when she was not yet 2 yrs old. (We do have the photo too) We were waiting for 2 Korean children to come in for adoption by the McDonald Family, and you were covering the story. So one of my daughter’s earliest memories is of you and your kindness.
Best regards,
Paul
(Yes, we used to be neighbors too)
Mike that’s so interesting! Thank you for telling me about it.
Paul what a wonderful memory. I do recall that story at the airport. Well I’m glad I wasn’t the source of trauma for your daughter. lol. That is fascinating your daughter remembers something before the age of 2. Thank you for posting.
How true. My first memory was of my 4th birthday. That day I fell off the back steps and broke my arm.
At the hospital the dr. said it was “only cracked” so put my arm in a sling, but no cast.
People looking at it in the weeks to come were sceptical, because of the no cast. So, not only did I have to keep the dang thing on for a couple weeks; I also didn’t even get any sympathy, since I was viewed as a faker.
.
Teresa, oh no! A broken arm your big day? Interesting that you also remember the skepticism that followed. Are you now sensitive to skepticism as I am about betrayal? Thanks so much. I appreciate this.
Sensitive to skepticism now….hmmm. Now, you’ve given me something to ponder.
T.
Loved your Money Wise article. Great to be recognized. Whos’ the lady who relates to your blog, with her own stories? My earliest memory is Dec. 7th, 1941. We were at my grandmother’s listening to FDR on the radio. My grandfather had died 6 months earlier and the concern was that all 4 sons would be going to war. Who would take care of my grandmother, financially? She was in her own home but on a very limited pension. I was 4 and a half and I remember the concern. 2 uncles went to Europe/LST Pacific, one to Sampson Air Force Base and the other stayed at home in his business. He may have gotten a dispence. I remember the tension. Maureen you do get my memory going. My grandson was on ESPN Sat. night. He was dressed in an orange wig, head band, sun glasses and the scarf. It was very exciting for his grandmother. Go SU. C.
Maureen-
You’re making our brains work overtime this week. Good topic this. As I previously said, I’m doing the geneology thing and part of that involves sorting old pictures. The thing that amazes me is how little I remember of my childhood. Pictures trigger connections that conger up memories, but I only get pieces of the grand puzzle. I find that troublesome, but perhaps I’m too hard on myself for not remembering every year, event, or moment. I don’t think I’m even close to heading to Woody Allen’s shrink to sort it all out, but I wish I could remember more.
So I searched for my first memory….it certainly wasn’t much before the age of 5. I think you must be in the genius category to go that far back. Or at least in the very acutely aware category. But then I think women have much better recall of the past than men do.
As it turns out, I have 2, and I don’t know which one came first. But I think it was the good one. At Christmas, we had a large book of Christmas stories. My favorite of course was “The Night Before Christmas.” I remember my mother reading it to me … several times every year. I still have the book and the pages of that story are worn ragged. I must have been in the 4ish range. The other was a traumatic one. We weren’t poor, but we could see poor from where we were…we had a gas stove whose broiler you had to light with a match…as I tried to do…yup..poof! No damage done, but a scary memory that is with me still. I was around 4-6ish. So, who knows….but I’ll bet most of your responders will tall of traumatic memories first.
Don
PS..I presume those pictures are of you and not your sisters….cute, especially the one of you and dad looking at each other.
HA Carol, that person is YOU!! I love your memory story. My theory is largely holding up. We remember trauma or concern, as you state. Either way, I’ve never heard someone’s first memory to be really great. I was watching the game Saturday night so I’m sure I saw your grandson. What a cool thing to wear to the Dome. No wonder ESPN cameras found him. So glad you’re back in the snowy north.
Hi Don, and thanks for sharing your first memories. It is true, I don’t hear anyone mention something wonderful as the very first “event” they remember, though the gas stove episode qualifies for trauma, doesn’t it? Love it. Glad you’re still here after all these years. And yes, the photos include my parents and I. I was the oldest. The first photo, with my mom in a polka dot dress was the day of my baptism. I love that photo of her. I love polka dots to this day. Thanks so much.
i remember being in a stroller, on a corner with a tall curb next to the seed company in fredonia, and being alarmed – and feeling a sense of height – when my mother lifted the stroller on its back wheels to get over the curb. that’s he only thing i remember from those years … maybe 2? … but i wonder if it was because i was afraid.
One of my first memories is of my father crying while watching the TV news. I’ve deduced, from talking to older siblings, that this was when John F. Kennedy was shot, in November of 1963. I would have been just 4. I’m sure at that age I had no idea what was going on, but you don’t forget the sight of your father sobbing. I also remember, at about the same age, taking a fall down a stretch of the steps on Euclid Avenue that lead to/from Westminster Park. As for events: I remember quite clearly the opening of the Newhouse School (in 1965, I think) and crowding on the steps waving flags for LBJ’s visit. I would have been 5 or 6. Long story short: I think your theory may be true, Maureen. Interesting topic!
Good Mornin Maureen, 1940 Housatonic, Massachusetts 13 South Street My folks had their house built and the cellar was dug by a team of horses that where brought by a Model A Ford truck with no top on it and the horses looked out over the top. My mother would bring me there to watch the team work. My folks drove a 1932 Ford sedan that they would lay me on top of the back seat under the window that had a window shade on it. No seat belts in those days but pure confort for a nap that took place a mile down the road ,as I thought all trips were 2 min long. Our two bed room house was built by my uncle and done with no power tools and lots of sweat. I sold the home after my Moms passing 1998. I still remember the short ride that the horse team owner would put me on the horse and my Mom hold me till the horse got to the truck. Three seems to be the magic age and I still remember those rides and later in my life that was the reason for my intrest and love for animals. Great times and memories from here in The Swamp.
Wow Sean, 2. You remember what it felt like to sit in a stroller. And I remember how it felt to be picked up and carried by adults. Interesting, isn’t it? Yes, maybe that moment shattered your trust in the stroller. Thanks for posting Sean!
Hello Margaret, Wonderful snapshots you provide. I agree, a sobbing daddy would have an impact on a child, not to mention those stairs! I so appreciate your post.
Denny that’s a lovely story and wow, how times have changed since then! You create a vivid picture of it all. I’m sure you are right that those early experiences on the back of a horse with your mom nearby bonded you with animals. Wonderful. Thanks!
This is a really interesting, thought-provoking entry. Have you ever read about “infantile amnesia”? It’s sometimes referred to as “childhood amnesia.” There are different takes on it. If you Google it you can read a variety of info about it. Many say it’s a protective mechanism for kids, and it supposedly explains why we remember so little from those first few years. I don’t know much about it, aside from what I’ve read in the past.
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My first memory definitely involved “trauma”. I was 33 months old. My sister was 10 months old. My mom briefly moved the gate at the top of our staircase, and my sister, a very early walker, darted for the steps before my mom could get there. Down she went – wooden steps – rolled like a ball. I remember my mom screaming. My dad was out of town with work. My grandmother stayed with me while my mother rushed my sister to the doctor. Thankfully, she was fine – some bruising, but no broken bones. The doc said she was so little that she just curled in a ball and somehow protected herself. Truly a miracle.
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What a nice article (Money Wise), by the way. The mention surprised me – thank you.
Great to hear from you again Cathy. Thank you once again for all the compliments, and for your early memory story. I am fascinated by all the posts. Thank goodness your sister was OK after that fall down the stairs, but what a memory for someone under the age of 3, as you were. xo
Hi Maureen. My earliest memory was when I was two and a half and my mother was in the hospital for a month, having my baby brother. She had saved up all her little pill cups for me, and my father brought them to me in a red and white striped bag. He must have told me that they were from Mommy, because I remember standing in the hallway of our home, looking up at the ceiling, wondering where Mommy was. It is a clear and distinct memory. I also remember being dropped off at my aunt’s house with Lifesavers (it seems funny now that it seemed okay to give a two year old hard candy back then!). I guess my dad used to drop me off there when he went to work, only for that month. Apparently my mother almost died from excessive bleeding, so there is your trauma theory. None of my older 5 siblings were allowed to visit her because of hospital rules, so there must have been a worried atmosphere in our house. I also remember being very small and lots of big people holding a baby, and I couldn’t see. I know that was when Casey came home from the hospital.
This has been extrememly interesting, thank you!
della
Thank you for sharing this memory Della! You probably did pick up on the concern of people around you. Interesting to think back on it, isn’t it? I wonder if your older siblings see it the same way, or perhaps they were old enough not to be as shaken by these events as you were. Best, M.
I enjoyed reading your MoneyWise article! I have many memories of my younger days, but the most vivid are of my grandfather, Irving Schaff, who passed away in November 1957, when I was 5. He would take me in his big Ford truck (which I told Grandma she could not ride in because it was his and mine) to get ice cream. I remember being in the truck with him on West Manlius Street in East Syracuse and him telling me it would be the last time he would be able to take me for ice cream. Grandpa had a brain tumor similar to what Ted Kennedy died from, and by the time it was diagnosed, it was too late. I have nothing but good memories of my Grandpa, and I am the only grandchild who was old enough to have any memories.
Maureen,
I just read the article in the Worcester Telegram and did that bring back memories.
I enjoyed viewing the picture of your parents on this site. Your father’s name is mentioned on occasion because they still remember his arbitration work in Athol, MA.
Glad to see your success in New York.
Write back when you have a chance. Your childhood friend down the hill.
Mark Goldstein
OMG Markie Goldstein-my first friend. I will write directly. I’m cracking up you found me after all these decades.