Lying abed in Grandpa and Grandma Morrell's home in Hartman, the house where I was born, and hearing Grandma, Mama, and the Aunts in the kitchen chitter-chattering. Oh, the secrets I might learn if I could only lie still and keep my ears open!
I do not remember any earth-shattering information I gathered, but I do vividly recall this experience. I know I was not yet five years of age, for we had driven down from our home in Nebraska. The car, which I remember clearly, was a 1928 Chevrolet, a detail which I probably filled in a bit later. The vehicle was a two-door sedan, dark green body with black fenders. It had solid steel wheels, not spoked.
Returning to Nebraska late at night, lying in the backseat watching the moon race the car as we sped toward home. I think I woke up in my own bed the next morning and I don't know how the race turned out.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Anderson, had a radio in a huge cabinet, about as tall as I. I vividly recall a bright green light in the center of the console that resembled an eye. Little people lived inside the cabinet and when the knob on the left was turned they would talk to you! I could not figure how they got in there, nor how they obtained sustenance.
I learned about the qualities of shrinking objects on a trip to Lincoln. High up in a building in a region accessed by a little room that slid up and down inside the building, one could look out a window and see far, far below, the tiniest little automobiles and such ant-like two-legged creatures hustling hither and thither! Back on the street level, all these wonders had returned to normal size.