David Ramey:
CLASS OF 1972
Hudson's Bay High SchoolClass of 1972
Vancouver, WA
David's Story
Wow it's graduation, now what will I do?
That's what I remember asking myself. At the time I'd just discovered writing, i.e.: poetry (and the girls it attracted), the short story, novelettes, Shakespeare and the dramatic stage. I felt like I could (and wanted to) do everything!
My next discovery was reality (in the guise of my parents - "We think it's best that you follow this path. It's what your father always wanted to do. We think you would like it. That field will be best for you."). My choices were narrowed dramatically.
I fought back and thus came the compromise - I could keep theatre arts, choir and eng-lish / writing - but I'd still have to major in Forestry Management. <Eycugh!> I'd rather AA in Culinary Arts (which I managed to accomplish later).
Two years later, I gave up and got married to a girl I thought I'd be happy with. We did a lot. I brought in a photography business. She finished my education in sewing (something Mom started). We traveled all over. San Francisco was a staple. Every year for four years. Bought my first house in 1976; still can¿t believe it was only six thousand dollars! My next lesson was as an electrician (from her father who was). Then I went for my journeyman¿s license, and worked part time with him. Eight years later I was single again, yet with less to show for it!
Met and started dating my HS sweetheart again, tied the knot AGAIN (why does the heart - or is it hormones - do that?).
Oh My God, I married Godzilla!
Maybe the Bride of Frankenstein?
Of course all of this was realized after fifteen years of hell, which I thought was "nor-mal".
To fill in the time blanks. . .I rode motorcycle with my buddies which I did for ten of those years (until she wanted to ride too!). I sold the bike and went back to mountain climbing - of which she was deathly afraid, and thus guarantying me some quiet. There was the string of VW's I collected and worked on also. I finally got that Culinary Arts AA. Then I stacked another on top, in Technical Illustration. (Somewhere in that time I met the lady I currently with.) Then I bought a five acre parcel - at her insistence - and attempted the homestead thing. Some of us would rather write for a living! Y...Expand for more
et I did everything I knew how. Finally convinced, she capitulated, and we bought a house in Everett, where I could write, and make a little bit of income. Then she kicked me out.
Oh the fickle hand of Fate! Two down, and I still couldn¿t fathom where I may have gone awry.
When my ex did what she did, I ended up in my friends spare room, with nothing to my name but a ratty old pare of shoes, holey Levis and a ragged t-shirt. That was twelve years ago. We decided to make a go of it, and are still together. Shortly thereafter, we lost the apartment we were in - living for three weeks out of a 1974 VW and a tent at a campground in Verlot. Moving then to Ashland, Or. for four years and never understanding what happened, we barely eked out a living. The next high, if you'll excuse the pun, was the day before Thanksgiving. We had taken a walk in Lithia Park, the center of Ashland by the Shakespearean Theater. It had been a wonderful day. We had a son to share our lives with, what a grand gift. Then darkness descended yet again. Sometime during the night, I had a stroke. Waking with severe head pain, I only recognized my partner as a friend, not knowing we were together or that the boy was our son. No doctor could identify the malady, each thinking it was something else. When the Bisket Complex Fire destroyed the valley behind Ashland, and the Grisly Peak fire came in from the east we moved back home. Once in Washington again, Edmonds to be precise, we set up house and settled into life. We had originally decided not to get married as we both had a bad experiences in marriage. Mine you have read, my partner was brutalized by a man who all the while claimed he loved her. Yet after the event in Ashland (where she initiated paper work for disability for me) we agreed that for my health we should be married. Just for the insurance. Yet being married this time around is awesome. Our son is nine home schooled, and happy. He's a thespian through and through. His dream is to be an actor, model and photographer, all of which he exceeds at.
We are at this time patching up our poor credit and looking for a house to buy. I really don't like apartments, not conducive to good writing.
Life goes on. . .
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