In Mom's Kitchen

Another time I remember well was on a stormy April night, March 9, 1950. Now I am dating myself but the reason I remember it was because that was the night my brother was born. We still lived a long way from know civilization but the storm was so bad they could not get out anyway and my brother was born at home. My Dad was the midwife (for want of a better word). He waded through a flood to get some help but the lady had pneumonia and did not want to take the chance of giving anything to either my Mom or the baby so Dad was it. After the birth he put the baby in a basket and set him on the reservoir of the woodstove to keep him warm and brought me out in the middle of the night to see him. Neither my Dad or my brother are with us today but the memory will be with me forever.