Port Elizabeth - the windy city

We settled in Port Elizabeth, one of the windiest cities in the world. We stayed with some friends of ours, the Chaffins while we looked for a house. During our stay, Aunty Gloria Cass went into labor with their 6th child, Philip. Basil drove over to the Chaffin's house to get Ron Chaffin to come and stay with the other 5 children. Ron and my Dad were sitting in the living room reading the newspaper when the knock at the door sounded. They both yelled, "It's Basil!", and the newspapers went flying. Ron went to start up his car, while Basil got back in his Kombie to drive Gloria to the hospital. My Dad went to get in Ron's car, but he told him to go with Basil. My Dad ran over to get in Basil's Kombie just as he was driving off. He had opened the door, so he was holding the side of the Kombie trying to get in as Basil was going around the corner. Uncle Basil always told this story better than I could and had us all in stitches as he told it.
We managed to find a rental house or a "to let" house, though I don't recall where it was located. I remember it was white with a back porch that had black paint on it which was waxed with a high sheen. I'm told I slept walked one night and tried to unlock the kitchen door that led into the courtyard housing the clothesline shaped like a bare upside-down umbrella. Luckily it was a skeleton key and my mom was able to slide it out relatively easily, so my escape was blocked.
Soon after we arrived, we began to attend the public school. This meant we had to buy school uniforms. This was a rather strange concept to me. We had to wear a collared, short sleeved, light blue dress with basically no shape. The attire was adorned with a navy blue blazer and finished off with a matronly blue hat, gray socks and black shoes. Lunch break at school usually involved a game of marbles on the play ground.

One reason I call Port Elizabeth the "windy city" is because it really was windy. One afternoon while my brother (aged 6) was playing outside, a gust of wind picked him up and set him right into the street. Thankfully there weren't any cars coming, and my mother witnessed what happened so she was able to rush outside and help him to safety.

Arrival in Port Elizabeth

We arrived in Johannesburg for a brief stop over before boarding our final flight to Port Elizabeth. I remember meeting a family from America by the last name of Tope. Their youngest child was barely 2 years old and kept repeating the words "Ank". My brother Jeff was quite upset by this term because he interpreted her words as calling him a "Yank". He, being born in West Virginia, was quite insulted by this reference. He informed her quite sternly, or as sternly as a small boy could muster, "I'm not a Yank", he declared "I'm a hillbillie".
We shared refreshments with this family and got aquainted with them while we waited for our flight. Then, once again, the butterflies appeared in the stomach and we boarded our final flight to take us to the destination of our journey to this foreign land.
We landed in Port Elizabeth and climbed down the stairs from the aircraft, to the tarmac below. There waiting at the fence near the door, was a crowd of people. All saying hello. Some we knew, some we did not. We knew one family in particular, the Chaffins. Ron, Rosemarie, Kim, Tanya, Jamie and Jonathan. We had visited with them many a time in their home in America before they moved to South Africa. This was quite the reunion for us. So lovely to see old friends and get reaquainted.
There was a bit of confusion for us though. There was another family there to greet us, the Cass family. These people were very eager to meet us and spoke very quickly, so quickly in fact that I glanced up at my mother at one point and told her I had no idea what these other children were saying. I did not realize they were speaking english but spoke so fast that I could not interpret their speech.
This did not last long. I soon became accustomed to their dialect and words they used soon became my own. Their accent of a gutteral dutch sound soon also became my own accent. So amazing the way children adapt to their surroundings.
The Cass family soon became firm friends of ours. Basil, Gloria, Beverley, Colleen, Jeanette, Raymond, Basil Jon, and last but not least (seeing as he was born after we arrived), Phillip. This family was and still is a very important part of my life. The have been my other family who helped to mold me into what I am today.

1973 - On our way

We began our trip to move to South Africa in the summer of 1973. In order to travel to South Africa, we had to make a stop in England. There were no straight flights in those days.
My parents chose to stay a few extra days and visit with some folks who lived in Tonbridge Wells, just outside of London.
As a child, this was very exciting. We rode in funny looking cars from the airport to their country home.
While we were there, they took us on an adventure ride on the train into London. The train started out above ground, and went underground as it neared London. One of our stops in London, featured feeding the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. That was fascinating to a 7 year old, a 6 year old and a 4 year old.