On December 20, 1973, I checked into Methodist Hospital to give birth to my second child. It was a far better experience that the first time around. The labor nurse stayed with me the entire time rather than leaving me alone in a darkened room to wonder if I had been forgotten. My doctor also came by frequently to check on my progress and when the baby turned and threatened to come out breach, he quickly repaired the problem. By early afternoon I had delivered our second daughter, a lovely child that we named Catherine Anne. I was in my hospital room watching The Electric Company and holding my sweet girl within minutes. She was calm and delightful which no doubt pointed to my experience with caring for a baby. I was not the least bit anxious about being a mother the second time around. 

The number one song of that week was The Most Beautiful Girl by Charlie Rich and somehow it seemed quite fitting for the child who would round out our family. She was quite adorable with her head of curly hair, button nose and almond shaped eyes. Luckily the two of us were home before Christmas Eve so that we could celebrate our good fortune with Maryellen who was a bit confused by her new sibling at first. Eventually she had settled into the idea of sharing our attention and almost immediately became a great big sister. 

It turns out that I had no worries at all about the change in our family dynamics. Catherine was sweet from the beginning. She would sleep for many hours and when she did awake she would alert us with a soft little cry. She began slumbering all night long within less than a month and she seemed to be content no matter the situation. She was delightful addition to our family.

As 1974, dawned we felt quite content and complete. We settled into a lovely routine but soon enough felt that we had outgrown our apartment. It was time to look for a home with a yard and trees and good neighbors. It was my friend Linda who found the place for us. The house had been built about twenty years earlier but it was in pristine condition. The owners had raised two daughters there which somehow made us feel that we were destined to live there. The price was right as well. At nineteen thousand dollars it was a bargain given the huge yard and its location close to so many of our favorite places including Mike’s job. 

The owners seemed especially excited to hand over the house they had so loved to a young couple that saw so much potential in it. We signed the deal and were soon placing our belongings in the rooms and meeting the neighbors who would become like family to us in the ensuing years. 

On one side was the Hall family, a clan of five boys with parents Carol and Bob joyfully and skillfully in charge. On the other side was the blended Turner family composed of five children, mostly female, save for one son. Betty and Dave Turner headed that group and would literally become our counselors and protectors over time. I saw instantly that we had come to a very good place where my children might enjoy the same kind of glorious childhood that was mine growing up in Overbrook. 

We settled in quickly and soon enough met other families like the Washburns whose youngest girl, Traci, was almost the same age as Catherine. Either our house or our yard always seemed to be filled with youngsters running and laughing. It felt downright idyllic. 

Once again time began to accelerate. My brother Michael graduated from Rice University and found himself recruited for some amazing jobs, but one stood out more than the other. When Boeing, a contractor for NASA, presented him with an opportunity to work with the space program he knew immediately where his future must be. While working there he met Becky, also an engineer and their love bloomed quickly. Soon it was apparent that I would finally have a sister as they planned their wedding. 

Pat had graduated from high school in the meantime and announced that he wanted to enter the Houston Fire Academy to train to be a firefighter. Mama worried that he was too young to make such a decision, so she asked him to earn a college degree first. He agreed and headed to the University of Houston. 

Maryellen entered first grade with less than glowing comments from her kinder teacher. Her new teacher sensed that Maryellen was much brighter than she had seemed to be and kept advancing her to higher and higher reading groups while noting that the child appeared to have some difficulty hearing. A visit to the school nurse and and quick hearing test confirmed that Maryellen was indeed having auditory problems. After taking her to a specialist she underwent surgery and as we drove home from the hospital her eyes grew wide as she exclaimed, “What is all that noise?” Once again a first grade teacher had saved a child.