MY TREASURED KNAPSACK
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MOVIE PAGE SEE 1956
QUACKS, LOONS, FRUITCAKES, AND ODDITIES


LEFT: THOMAS HASCALL COLE RIGHT: JEFFREY VAN SICKLES COLE

THE STORY OF HOW MY TREASURED KNAPSACK GOT RUINED!

     It was a very big knapsack, perhaps an old army issue one with rivets and straps and pockets and for a day it was mine and I loved it.
 I ran across the image above while reviewing one of the many hours of family movies that I had digitalized last year. It was just one of many surprises I have had while watching them.
    By "surprise" I don't mean to say that the image above reminded me of that day or of the knapsack; it's just that I didn't know that the moment had been captured on film. My memory needed no jogging; I have often thought of the day I played with the knapsack. It has been a part of my memory for sixty years.

    I remember that it had a forehead band to help you carry it—well, you can see in the picture that it does.

The Happy Wanderer

I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track
And as I go, I love to sing
My knapsack on my back.
Val-deri! Val-dera!
Val-deri!
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
Val-deri,Val-dera!
My knapsack on my back.

Picnic Table Three Boys 1956.jpg

I was marching around with it filled with pure happiness and joy—and then, then this woman came out on her front porch—a big frumpy slob of a woman who pointed a blubbery finger at me and yelled mockingly, "Look at the little boy with the great big knap sack!"
I was mortified. Ashamed. Crushed. I hated her with all my soul.

              5. El feliz vagabundo

     Era una mochila muy grande — tal vez de tipo militar con remaches y correas y bolsillos y durante un día era la mía y me encantaba.

     Me topé con la imagen de arriba mientras repasaba una de las muchas películas familiares que yo había digitalizado el año pasado. Era una de muchas sorpresas que he tenido mientras las veía.

     No quiero decir con la palabra "sorpresa" que la imagen me haya recordado a ese día ni a la mochila. Nada más quería decir que no sabía que ese momento hubiera sido grabado en película. No necesitaba ningún recordatorio; muy a menudo he pensado del día en el que yo vagabundeaba felizmente con la mochila. Ha sido una parte de mi memoria por sesenta años.

     Me acuerdo de que tenía una cinta que se ponía sobre la frente para ayudar llevarla — bueno, bien lo puede Ud. ver por la foto que la tiene.

El feliz vagabundo

I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track
And as I go, I love to sing
My knapsack on my back.
Val-deri! Val-dera!
Val-deri!
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Val-deri,Val-dera!
My knapsack on my back.

Yo iba marchando con la mochila lleno de pura alegría y felicidad — y entonces, entonces una mujer se presentó en su porche delantero — una gran desordenada y guarra mujer que me señaló con un dedo gordo y gritó riéndose y burlándose de mí:

—¡Mira al niñito con la mochila grandota!

Yo estaba mortificado. Avergonzado. Destrozado.
La odiaba con toda mi alma.





????

I just saw this as a thumbnail on a home movie of me in Vermont or somewhere in 1956. I have on my knapsack that had a forehead band to help you carry it. I was walking with it and so joyful, pleased, and happy—and then this woman came out--a big frumpy slob-- pointed a blubbery finger at me and yelled mockingly, "Look at the little boy with the great big knap sack!!!"

      I was mortified. I was crushed by this. I hated her with all my soul. Today, I still hate her puking guts! So there!

       Although I am not one to hold a grudge,* I remember this as if it were yesterday and forgive not the callous old biddy!

     As I type it is 2016 and many a thing has come to pass in the insuing 56 years.

*I most surely lie here