A Bit of Green Glass - Genealogical Artifact Piece

A Bit of Green Glass

            In the summer of 1996 I was five years old.  At that age a kid has little or no independence.  I was therefore obligated, along with my brother and (at the time) two sisters to accompany Mom on errands and other outings during the summer.  I do not mean to say that we were forced.  Circumstances just necessitated such an arrangement.  I’m sure that our mother was much more bothered by it than we were.  Four children under the age of eight cannot be easy to load into a car and shepherd through a grocery store.  Bless her for her efforts.

            After one of these afternoons out and about we stopped by my Dad’s parents’ place for a visit, as it was not far from home.  Now, I can think of few places better suited for energetic, curious little boys than a large, shaded backyard at Grandpa’s house.  My little brother, Jake (age three at the time) and I, as soon as we had hugged Grandma and Grandpa, scurried off into the backyard to find something fun to do.  We found, near the edge of the garden, two shovels with broken shafts.  These shovels were now the right size for a couple of little guys like us.  We eagerly grabbed them and scanned the area for a bare patch of dirt to dig up.     

            The edge of the garden was a perfectly suitable site for our excavation.  We set about immediately scooping up the dry earth.  It was not long at all before I made the fateful discovery.  A glint of green caught my eye, whether in the bottom of the hole or the dirt in my shovel I no longer recall.  However, I do remember that as soon as I saw it, the dig was over.  I had found treasure!  At least, to my six-year-old eyes, the bottom of a green glass bottle appeared to be treasure.  I couldn’t read what was written on the bottom, so I immediately assumed it was some ancient pirate inscription.  Quickly I hypothesized that in the olden days when the ocean covered Utah Valley, a pirate ship had floated exactly over the site of my Grandparents’ house and a careless (possibly drunk) pirate had dropped his bottle of rum over the side of the ship into the water, where it sank to its rest on the ocean floor. 

            Grandma and Grandpa were quite entertained by my explanation for the green glass piece.  Then my mother did something that changed my life.  She purchased a blank cassette tape for me and showed me how to record my voice.  She then let me loose, telling me to record my story of the treasure and anything else that came to my head.  As a little boy, I had nothing really interesting to say.  However, my interest in recording had begun.  From that interest in voice recording sprang my interest in video.   That interest has become a hobby, then an obsession, and now a college major.  And a bit of green glass helped it all get started.

Artist’s Statement

           

            The story of finding the green glass in Grandpa’s garden is a bit of a legend in my family now.  I still have the thing stored away in a box at home.  I don’t have a photo of it, but I found one online that looks like it.

            The significance of the story is, of course, NOT the discovery of an item of great worth.  I realized as a five-year-old that a piece of glass was not possibly pirate treasure, but it was certainly fun to invent a story.  My limited knowledge of history left me with enough uncertainty that I could almost convince myself that my invented tale was true.  This was an outlet for my budding creativity.  My mom probably didn’t realize what a good idea she had when she provided me with an outlet for my ramblings and thoughts.  The tape she gave me is still intact at my house.  I listened to it with my parents when I was eighteen, at least a decade since I had last played it.  It’s no masterpiece.  I was no prodigy journalist or storyteller, but it is so nice to be able to hear what I sounded like!  I really just rambled, repeating a lot of the same ideas and phrases over and over.  But it was a starting point.

            My tape, which my mom entitled, “When I Found Treasure”, bears little significance to anybody outside my circle of immediate family.  However it and the “treasure” that inspired it are extremely significant to me.

            I chose to write the story using somewhat more sophisticated, “grown-up” language than in previous works for this class.  I suppose this suggests that I do no longer write as a child, though I remember the feelings of being one.  Hopefully the tone of the piece is not overly nostalgic.   The significance of the story lies, not in the remembering the “good old days of childhood”, but rather the impact of seemingly small objects and events on future choices and aspirations.

            I called my mom and asked her to read the piece.  She had little to say other than that she was rather amazed at some of the details I remembered.  She recalled with fondness my grandparents' reaction the day I found my "treasure".  It is always good to relive some memories from childhood with my mother, who was present for a lot of what I did.