Auntie Celia

I received word today that my aunt Celia was refusing food. She is receiving hospice care in the home of my parents. Her condition has deteriorated and the family is now planning her funeral.

I am sorry that my children don't have more memories of Celia when she was healthier, animated, and energetic. She had a sense of humor that often surprised us. She loved boating, waterskiing, and driving around in her shiny, blue Cougar convertible.

In about 1968, my family went to visit Celia in Lompoc, California for Easter. I was in 7th Grade.

The usual Easter basket hunt was unusual that year in that Celia put gifts in the baskets for each of the nine children in the family. The clue for my basket had more to do with the gift in the basket than its location so when everyone else had already found their baskets and were enjoying the goodies and admiring each other's gifts, I was still hunting around for something to do with "shells".

I knew that Celia loved the beach so all I could figure was that she was giving me one of her big conch shells. But no, that didn't seem to be it.

Finally, we all convinced Celia that I wouldn't be able to find the basket without help so she gave me some obvious clue and I got the basket.

Among the usual marshmallow peeps and jelly beans was an item that I could not immediately identify. Even today, I don't know what term is used to name this so I'll describe it and I am certain that someone will come up with its name (help me out here, Davy). Brass casings that hold the ammunition for a machine gun are connected together in a long strip. I picture banditos wearing them crisscrossing their chest. There was a strip of these brass "shells" in my basket.

"It's a belt," Celia explained. I think there was a general pause of confusion among all the family members.

"Ohhhh!", I responded. "That's so cool!"

"I thought you were the type who would like it."

And I did. It was weird. Just my style.

The problem was, where do you wear it? It looked great with jeans, which at that time were only just being allowed in school, but it caused a major stir with the teachers and administrators when I showed up for class wearing this belt. The dress code had recently been relaxed but even then, it didn't address wearing ammunition. I remember Mr. Petty, my Utah history teacher and a WWII vet, examining it carefully to determine that it didn't pose any particular danger.

I was asked by the principal not to wear it to school and I was compliant.

My Easter belt hung in my closet for several years after that and I do not remember what finally became of it. It's too bad I don't have it as a physical reminder of my quirky aunt.

I hope this story helps to acquaint my children with their great aunt.