It was 1956, and the summer of my fifth year. We lived in Vallejo, California, and my mom worked a short distance away at Levi Strauss Company. It was her job to make and sew pockets on the 501 jeans—as well as stitch the red Levi tab to the right back pocket to differentiate their product from competitors. Simply, this meant that I stayed with Aunt Maggie during the day until my mom arrived to pick me up in the late afternoon. 

Mom drove a green 1948 Studebaker Commander with a radio that was always tuned to San Francisco station KSFO. On our way to Aunt Maggie’s house in the morning, we’d listen to our favorite songs and join in with Doris Day:  

When I was just a little girl

I asked my mother, “What will I be?

Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?”

Here’s what she said to me

Que sera, sera

Whatever will be, will be

The future’s not ours to see

Que sera, sera

What will be, will be.

Aunt Maggie also had a radio in her living room, so Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, and Pat Boone always crooned in the background.  My love for music likely had its roots in the Studebaker and Aunt Maggie’s living room.

Each morning, when I arrived, Aunt Maggie would whisper for me to lie on the sofa, listen to the radio, and be very quiet until my cousins, Steve and Sherry, woke up. Softly, I’d hum along with Perry Como’s “Catch a Falling Star,” Frank Sinatra’s “That Old Feeling,” and Pat Boone’s “Love Letters in the Sand.” It wasn’t long before the bedroom door opened just a little, and the cousins peeked through the tiny crack. Oh, how I loved them both.

Once they had eaten their breakfast, we’d surround ourselves with a mountain of big red books. Since neither of us were able to read yet, we’d spend countless hours just looking at all the pictures in The American People’s Encyclopedia set, twenty delightful volumes in all.

The highlight of the day was when Aunt Maggie gave each of us a small glass jar with a few pennies in it for candy. The old red and white Hammond’s Candy Express truck made its way throughout the neighborhood daily—and we knew this because we were watching intently for its arrival. The minute the truck came into view, we bolted off the front porch and stood excitedly at curb’s edge. We’d greet the candy man and then step inside the back of the truck to choose our sweet treats: Sugar Babies, Bit O’ Honey, and Smarties were the usual selections, but we still took our time perusing all the other mouth-watering possibilities displayed in the many rows of candy bins. It was truly a magical place!  

In the late afternoon, Mom arrived to pick me up in the Studebaker. On the way home, we talked about the day, listened to our favorite radio station, sang along with Doris Day, and shared a piece of Beeman’s chewing gum. Life was good.