The other memories I have from before age 5 are mostly about a house on Katrine in Haltom City. I remember a lot of random things about that house. The part of the street it was on was near an intersection that was a triangle. It had a cyclone fence that I played Barbies through with a girl next door. There was a sidewalk in front of the house and I think my mother and I would walk next door on occasion. We walked to the triangle area too. The front porch was small with about five steps. The posts were iron railing with scrolling leaves or something on them.
Inside the house, I remember the hardwood flooring throughout the house. I remember the hall closet because there was a clothing barrel in there with my toys in it. I would jump up with my stomach on the edge and lean down into the barrel to retrieve my stuffed tiger. If you know me at all, you know I love the big cats and the little cats. The tiger was my favorite stuffed animal. It was smallish and yellow with black stripes like a real tiger! After my little brother, Timmy, came along we shared a bedroom with twin beds. My picture in my head of that room is the doorway from the hall. You could see in there and see the twin beds. They had wooden headboards in a light color varnish. That is my memory, not sure how accurate the description is.
There is a memory from that time frame that is a story told by my parents. Saying that to say I am not certain I remember the incident or if I remember the story my folks tell. It was summertime, I think, and we had relatives or close friends over but I don't recall who. Mom, Dad, and the guests were inside playing 42 or something. Timmy and I were either in bed or just playing in our room. Apparently there was a scream outside coming from across the street. All the adults went out on the front porch to see what the commotion was all about. Not sure if someone at our house or a neighbor called, but the police were called. 911 was not dialed, as that did not exist. You actually had to call the police station. Anyway, the story went that a teenage girl and a friend had staged a pretend kidnapping at a car across the street. The girl was admonished by the police that this was not funny at all. She was trying to get some attention from her parents I guess. Anyway, I remember this as a highlight of our time at the house on Katrine. We lived there until June of 1963.