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Janko Krotecjanko's obituary

May 24, 1946 - September 6, 2009

My First Memory

The house where I was born

The house where I was born

Being part of a brew of eight siblings has its benefits and its challenges.  The same goes for being the fourth, or middle child as well — I could reach up and down and connect all of us most of the time.

My oldest brother is six years older than me.  He was born to be king and had an overall preferential treatment flowing out from our grandmother and parents — the rest of us were mere mortals.  The second in line is another brother who is four years older than me.  He was closely connected to my three year older sister.

This first memory of mine dates back to March 17, 1949.   I was two months short of three years.  A horse drawn wagon stopped at our humble homestead.   There was my mother, holding two tightly wrapped bundles — my newborn twin brothers.  A profound thought inhabited my mind, soul and body: “Janko, this is the end of your childhood”.  I have no other memory of this or of any other occasion for a long period thereafter.

The outcome of my twin brothers’ arrival into our midst was as I expected.  My older brother and sister promptly took possession of the twins leaving me on my own until the age of five when I became “an assistant” farm worker to my oldest brother.  Now I was steady enough to guide the oxen to plow the fields and perform general work on the farm.  We became a very tight duo.  He was my protector in school and my best buddy while we worked the fields.  Our union lasted until my departure at age twelve — I left home to live and work on another farm so I could continue to go to school and earn my room and board.

My early childhood experiences prepared me very well for my future life to be.  I am most grateful for every lesson learned.

Until next time …

With love and affection,
Janko

“Hope is a waking dream.” Aristotle

    1 comment to My First Memory

    • John

      As an only child I can only imagine being caught in the middle. The story of you plowing the fields behind the oxen was powerful and courageous.

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