Back to Lorain – Memoir Continued

No explanation for the move was forthcoming, but I assume it was because Dad had found another job, in or close to his old hometown. So sometime after my fourth birthday, we moved to a little cottage in Beaver Park overlooking Lake Erie. The park was on the northwest side of Lorain. I don’t remember much about the cottage, except that it was in a row of cottages that was separated from the main highway by multiple railroad tracks, the B&O RR, I think. There was also a marina, either in the park or close by. We didn’t live there very long, or at least my memories of the place have pretty much gone down the rabbit hole, except for one incident, which I remember vividly even now.

There was a little grass separating the cottages from the cliff bank that led down to the lake, where I had an interesting experience. One day I walked or was playing, too near the edge of that low cliff, overhanging the lake. I was able to catch hold of some large plant roots that were protruding from the cliff wall as I slipped off the edge and down, and there I hung screaming forever… or at least several minutes until Dad found me and pulled me back up.

I marvel at the ability of a small child to have, in the midst of a fall, the clarity of mind, or just plain tenacity to catch hold of anything that passes within reach. I wonder if it is an instinct, perhaps a genetic carryover from a more primitive time when falling accidents were more common; ah, but I digress.

To be Continued

–LE