Laurie

 This is Laurie's last selfie taken in 1969. She was a junior in high school and it was for her photography class. They were doing black and white studies at the time.

I  was born in San Francisco in 1951. I was an only child until Laurie was born 11 months later, in Lynwood, California. 

Laurie's baby photo

My mom had contracted tuberculosis while pregnant, so once Laurie was born, my mom was put into a sanitarium and Laurie and I came to stay with our paternal grandmother for a few months in Los Angeles while my father traveled back & forth between L.A. and S.F.  This (below) is our paternal grandmother holding Laurie and keeping my hand away from my baby sister. I'm sure there was good reason for that because it was found that Laurie had a condition on her scalp where she had suddenly developed patches of bald spots. At first, my grandparents thought it was ringworm. But when Laurie was examined by a doctor, the diagnosis was that someone had been pulling some of Laurie's hair out.  And they discovered that I was the culprit. That tracks.

Paternal grandmother Frances Hagler with Laurie & me.

Of course, I don't remember any of this. I can't recall much of my life before the age  of 3. After a couple of months, Laurie and I went to stay with my maternal grandparents in San Francisco. Grandpa and Grandma Bowen took very good care of us. They wanted to make sure that Mom got to see Laurie's development through the six months that my mom was gone. My grandparents doted over Laurie especially, I think, because my mother had never gotten to hold her baby.  She had to go into the sanitarium without even holding Laurie, and that was tough for her.   

Grandma Bowen with Laurie 

Grandpa Bowen with us. 

Mom came home in April of 1953, and we all became a family. She then gave birth to our brother Arlo in 1954 in San Francisco. Eventually, my parents had nine children in all, by 1964.  

 Laurie was second born, and was the smartest of the two of us.  She was also slightly taller, so people always thought she was the eldest (this always bugged me...it wouldn't now, of course).  We were often mistaken for twins - we were called "Irish Twins", though we looked nothing alike. Laurie favored my mom's side, while I took after the Hagler side. Laurie was often called "Debbie", and I was often  called "Laurie". My mom and paternal grandmother dressed us alike for many years, until we rebelled.

Laurie excelled in school. In high school, she was consistently on the Honor Roll.Laurie had more friends than I did, and was part of the popular crowd. This is from Laurie's 7th birthday. It was tradition to have one party for our 7th birthday, where we could invite guests.  

Comparisons aside, I would have to say that Laurie had so much promise that we fully expected that she would do great things once she became an adult. She had many interests, from sports, fishing, painting, writing, animals, music, social events and more.My father taught us to sing duets when we were children. We would perform for his friends, and in school. We did talent shows and joined the choir in high school.

Laurie and me (holding the guitar).

Laurie and me in our high school choir class.

In high school, Laurie enjoyed her Political Science classes, becoming a delegate in the Model U.N. simulations. She learned to fly an airplane around the same time she learned to drive, and had enough hours that she was about to earn her Pilot's License. Laurie was my father's favorite, so she went places and did things that the rest of us didn't. The airplane she flew my my father's Aeronca L3. My father had artist friends who taught my sister how to do the craft of batik. Unfortunately, her relationship with my mom was not so good. Part of the reason was that my father took Laurie out more often than he did my mom. Another might have been that my mom missed that bonding experience with my sister after giving birth. In any event, there were many arguments between them. Some of those arguments were mentioned in Laurie's diaries. But Mom loved Laurie, and couldn't understand why they couldn't get along. There is also much that my mother didn't know until much later about my father, which I covered in another blog.

Laurie and Mom, when Laurie was 15. 

Laurie and I also argued a lot, but were also loving sisters the rest of the time. We were very different, so many disagreements stemmed from those differences. Here is one of Laurie's diary entries from 1968: 

 

The next day, she wrote:

She was wise beyond her years, in so many ways. She wrote this on the day that Martin Luthor King Jr. was assassinated: 

 This was her first diary entry in 1968:

"Maybe this is the year. The year that I die. The year I decide what to do with my life." She didn't die in 1968. Reading through those diaries is her life, but also part of my life. I am mentioned many times, throughout. It has taken me decades to get this far in her story without also grieving. Something changed a bit - not much, but enough - in the last two years of Laurie's life. She became interested in boys. Her diaries were filled with angst and longing for boys who did not return her affections in the same way. I am certain that there were boys who liked her, but not the ones she liked. I wish that she had lived longer to experience that part of life. 

Laurie was more religious than I was. She was very Catholic. As children, we both were. But where I started questioning what we were taught, Laurie held true to her beliefs. She was far more conservative than I was. Nonetheless, we both had to follow the rules of our faith. We had our first Holy Communion and Confirmation, went to Catechism together, as we did most things. We were in the same grade all through school, since my December birthday held me back one year.

Our professional Communion portrait.

Laurie in her Confirmation gown.

 In 1966 my parents bought a VW bus. Those buses were all the rage in the 60s-70s. In 1968, Laurie took the wheel of the bus. I still hadn't learned to drive - I took Driver's training in my Sophomore year in high school, and passed - but just barely. Laurie was given the task of driving us all around when my parents couldn't. Laurie loved the freedom of driving. She could help run errands, bring the kids to the park or the beach, and visit her own friends. Here is a home movie that I shot in 1968, with Laurie behind the wheel. We would play the radio while she drove, with me riding shotgun. I remember listening to "The Boxer" by Simon & Garfunkle while riding with Laurie in that van. For years, I cried when I heard that song, as I associated it with her. 

 Apologies for my sketchy filming:

 

The bus started having mechanical issues, so it would break down occasionally. In early 1969, the bus would get stuck somewhere while my father was driving it. He expected Laurie to drive the bus while he pushed it with our truck.  On April 3, 1969, Laurie and I had an argument. I had borrowed her Lanz black blouse, without telling her. Laurie's sense of style was more refined than mine, and I wanted to look nice for a concert. We had a real blow-up about it. Then she left to drive the VW bus home. That was the last time that I saw her. My father and Arlo were in the truck, pushing the bus on the freeway. After it started, Laurie drove, and then was cut off by another car. She turned sharply, which made the bus topple over (this was one of the old-style VW buses with a narrow wheel base). My father and Arlo watched as Laurie was thrown out of the bus, which rolled over on her. My father was hysterical, as he held Laurie, waiting for an ambulance. Blood was coming out of her ears, so he knew it was bad. Laurie died the next day at Mary's Help Hospital (now Seton). She was 16 years old. 

Laurie's death devastated our family. My father looked at me a few days afterwards and asked me: "Why wasn't it YOU?"  Well, it wasn't me because I never learned to drive (I still don't drive). My mother soon learned things about her husband in relation to her daughters that eventually led to their divorce. I often wonder how things might have gone, had Laurie lived. She was able to thrive in spite of the many abuses we went through (mentioned in some of my other blogs). I think we'd be friends. She was already turning away from my father in some respects. He would get jealous if she was out with a boy, and follow her home when she walked to school. She admitted that it was suffocating.We always covered for each other, if we sneaked out of the house. We'd match our footsteps on the stairs to make it sound like one person descending/ascending the steps. I am also certain that Laurie would have been a success at whatever ventures she engaged in. Her death was the first of such losses in my life. Even after all these years, I still miss her.