Sounds from the Past

My coffee maker just breathed its typical finishing breath to let me know the coffee is ready, which made me think of Darth Vader. It's Sunday morning, and thanks to sound, I'm reminiscing.

The occasional crow that caws in my neighborhood reminds me of my grandmother's big two story house on Congress Avenue in South Austin because her front yard was always full of crows. A deep-voiced bark from the dog next door reminds me of my old dog, Chama. Even now, the birds out in the yard are singing this morning as if it's Spring, reminding me of previous springs in other houses. Sounds help me tap into the past.

Although I haven't heard it in many years, the memory of  "shh, shh, shh" of an inspect spray can with a long push handle reminds me of my Uncle Grover spraying the bees that managed to find their way into the screened porch area. The loud metal clanking of a car jack stuck precariously under a big rusted bumper reminds me of my dad on the side of the road in front of our 1953 Packard (it seems like cars were always having flats back then). Playing cards attached to the bicycle fork with wooden clothes pins reminds me of riding all over South Austin with my friend Kirby. I love so many of those old, almost forgotten sounds.

But there were some sounds I'm glad are in the past. Like the sound of the B-52s flying in and out of Bergstrom Air Force Base, reminding me of the Viet Nam War; civil defense sirens forcing so many of us to go into a hallway and tuck into strange protective positions; passing cars backfiring while I'm walking down the street; or the sound of crying coming from the master bedroom as a sibling got a spanking. Sounds are powerful, emotional, and reminders of the good and bad in our lives.