#7 Something you had that was stolen.  

The year that I was in 1st grade we moved from Nashua, Iowa to Garrison, Iowa.  My Dad had gotten a job teaching in Vinton.  Garrison was a tiny town that was a few miles from Vinton.  It was adorable and some of my favorite childhood memories take place in Garrison.  My parents rented a big house that had lots of bedrooms.  The house had belonged to a doctor or a veterinarian and the attic and basement were filled with jars and beakers.  Eric and I felt like we were kids in a candy store.  We loved that house!  There was one thing about Garrison we didn’t like.  There was a teenager who lived in town that went to school where Dad taught that absolutely terrorized us.  The mention of his very name can still bring a shiver down the spine of any Bakke who lived in Garrison.  John Doe (not his real name) would call the house and hang up.  John Doe would come into the yard and flip the seats on the swingset over the bar so you couldn’t reach them.  John Doe pushed Eric into the mud pit.  This was nothing compared to the fact that John Doe stole my pet rabbit, Fluffy.  Like all first grade girls, I was obsessed with rabbits.  They were my favorite animal and my parents relented and let me get a pet bunny.  (Eric was incensed that he couldn’t get his favorite animal for a pet.  Eric’s favorite animal was a lion.  Wise choice, Mom and Dad.) My Uncles made me a beautiful hutch that we placed by the garage.  Fluffy and I were an inseparable pair until the day I went out the hutch and fluffy was gone.  When I told my parents they said that John Doe must have stolen my rabbit.  I was inconsolable.  I couldn’t believe that someone would steal someone’s pet.  I must have told my parents to call the police.  To a first grader the theft of a pet rabbit is a felony.  Well, they didn’t call the police and for years John Doe got away with the crime.  That is until a few years ago when I was discussing the passing of one of my nephew’s pets when Mom said, “it was so sad when Fluffy died.”

“Wait, Fluffy didn’t die!!! She was kidnapped by John Doe.”

“No, your father and I knew you would be sad, so we told you that John Doe stole him.”

Wow.  Nearly forty years old and I unlocked one of the great mysteries of childhood.  Clearly, I was no Nancy Drew.  As an adult it did seem improbable that the police wouldn’t get  involved with a stolen pet.  I remembered Fluffy being sick before she got kidnapped.  I should have pieced it together sooner.  Poor, Fluffy.  Poor, John Doe.  Poor, Heather Lena.  Linda and Gerry?  Geniuses.

#8 The long-lost roommate.
The only year of college that I roomed with someone who was unknown to me was my junior year at Gustavus.  Let’s call her Molly.  Molly and I were both transfer students.  I can’t remember where she transferred from but I had just transferred from Bethany and was undergoing a little culture shock.  At Bethany, men were not allowed in the women’s dorm except for a few hours on the weekend.  There was also a rule that if a boy was in your room you had to keep the door open at least 8 inches.  (I’m not making this up.  It was in the handbook and everything.) At Gustavus, the dorms had women’s and men’s floors in the same building.  Men seemed to be everywhere at anytime which wasn’t a huge problem except for the fact that Molly had a boyfriend.  It was very interesting to go from not seeing guys to seeing a guy in my room all over my roommate.  Even though I was horrified by her behavior, she was super nice.  The first few weekends of the term she would be gone all day going to the “Wren Fest.” I thought it was really odd that I had never heard of the Wren Fest.  I mean, I like birds.  After about a month she clarified that she was talking about the Renaissance Festival.  She must have thought I was insane.

After Graduating from Gustavus I never saw her again.  I ofter wonder what happened to her.