The day I was born has been described to me by both of my parents separately and together at different times over the years. In my younger years, it starting out with jokes about how I was almost born in the back of a jeep.. it goes like this..
First thing in the morning my mother knew she was in labor. My father had already planned on going out to look for a job that morning, and at 21 years old, knowing full well that having a baby was going to take all day, decided to leave his laboring partner and go about his business. Especially considering that they were broke and unemployed, it was a fine time to get going.
My mother was by far never one to stand up for herself, and having no way to contact him, since there were no cell phones in 1974, she was not about to take the risk of heading to the hospital without him.
So by the time he returned, she was afraid she might not make it. They headed out directly, but since Dad had been driving around on the job hunt and it was a long distance to the nearest hospital, they ended up running out of gas on the side of the road.
It was a back country road between Jamestown NY, where they were living, and the border of PA, where I was born. There was very little traffic, and the only car that they were able to flag down was a jeep with the doors removed for the hot September day.
Once they finally reached the hospital, I was born in approximately 30 to 45 minutes.
It sounds kind of like a crazy movie scene, but this is truly the theme of the majority of my life. At very least, the basic ambiance of my upbringing.
Most of the time I feel like the very foundation of my psyche is chaos.
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