The Secret Room

photo by Kevin Mizner http://kmizner.com/  used with permission.

drawing by Kevin Mizner
http://kmizner.com/ used with permission.

At the front of my Grandma’s house was a secret room. There was no way in.  No door. A huge shrub hugged the only outside window to the room. My eight year old self was curious. ” Why is there a room you can’t use?” To me it was the stuff mysteries were made of.  Was there a hidden treasure inside, stolen property being hidden from the authorities?  Had there been a crime committed in that room and the evidence boarded up?  My imagination ran wild  and I would often make up stories about the secret room.   I kept asking questions.  Finally, my mom explained that when the house was remodeled, they just closed it off because they didn’t need it anymore.   I didn’t believe it for a minute. A few times I tried to squeeze between the shrub and the grimy aperture, but I was too short to peer inside. I was confident  there was a story behind that dusty glass. There were other things regarding my grandparents that were secretive; events not discussed,things hushed so children would not know.  My grandparents lost a child to  a childhood disease.  She was just a toddler.  Years later a son was killed in a car accident shortly after returning home from the Korean War.  After the accident, my grandmother was gone for a while.  Even her absence was not spoken about when I was around.   A nervous breakdown.  A mental illness.   Shock treatments.  Comments overheard, but never explained. Together, the questions in my mind  made the secret room all the more enticing.  My conclusion was romantic and tender.  I was convinced that all the painful memories from the sadness in my grandparent’s lives were boxed up and stored in that room.   Baby clothes and blankets, a teddy bear, a ribbon from her hair, maybe even a lock of hair. Many years have passed.  My grandparent’s house shelters another family now.  There is no one left to ask about the secret room.

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About Life in the 50's and beyond...

Welcome to Life in the 50's and 60's and beyond .... where I write about my childhood memories, music of the 60's and about life in the country. I am a mother, grandmother, farmer's wife, business owner, and retired teacher.
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10 Responses to The Secret Room

  1. I really enjoy stories like this , full of mystery. My grandparents’ home was shrouded in mystery too. I don’t know that it’s polite adding links to my blog but if u are interested it’s under the tag Dreaming – Future and Past and is called Dundas dreaming. 🙂

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  2. Grace says:

    The mystery surrounding the secret room is intriguing. That generation did maintain silence, kept hush.

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  3. maesprose says:

    That is quite the story. I had grandparents that would have done something like that. Very practical!

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  4. Luanne says:

    Woohoo, what a great story. It’s going to drive me crazy!

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  5. LB says:

    Do you get tired of hearing me tell you what a great story teller you are? Within the first sentence of two you manage to pique my interest and curiosity, and soon I am hooked.
    I, too, would have been fascinated by that room!

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  6. I remember my grandparents’ homes as being such curiosities– loved exploring. One grandfather had a special room in the basement- tools I think. It always seemed so exotic.
    Now I see my grandkids enjoying exploring our house–

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  7. Maxi says:

    Now that’s a story, Ruth. It has everything – mystery, romance,curiosity, sadness, family, illness, death. Still, not to ever know about the room. Wow!
    blessings ~ maxi

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  8. Ann says:

    Until I read your story I had forgotten a hidden room in my grandparents house on Main Street in Mt. Blanchard. I love your stories and wish that I had the discipline to write about everything I am experiencing.

    Like

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