My two brothers were in charge of me when we got to town. Waite Park at the time was very small, and from my Aunt Marie's to our new house, was only three blocks away. My brothers were riding two wheeler bikes and me, well, lets say it was a very small three wheeler. I was so proud of it.
On the way over, they just happened to lose me. Getting me to our new home wasn't a very important mission in their minds. The story goes that the police brought me home. What a great place, people who can give you a ride home, especially when I didn't know where I lived. We didn't have these guys on the farm. I'm sure I talked all the way home, how I got there is really a mystery because I hadn't been there before.
The home was only a basement home, that meant the top floor was not built yet. You don't see them these days. Anyway, this is what the house looked like after my parents built the top floor. It was wonderful and full of love.
God Bless those who travel through my little blog.