Again, when Dad sold the shop in Othello, we (the kids) were only given a few hours notice. Mom, I am sure had a few weeks notice because as I look back I can remember she had most of our things packed when the moving truck pulled up out front. We, however, never had time to say goodbye to our friends, or to ease into the idea of a whole new setting.
We were again in temporary living quarters. My Dad's parents had passed away and he was responsible for selling their property. We moved into their home in Spokane, Washington. It was an older Craftsman home, middle class but very nice. My brother had a bedroom on the main floor, I was relegated to the finished attic space. It was almost nice. It had a very nice window with bench that I spent most of my days watching the people on the street from. It was very hot though because it was summer time.
One day I was sewing something in the living room when the door bell rang. As I jumped up to answer it I stepped on the scissors I had been using. The blade sank into the side of my foot and sliced it open about 4" long. Of course mom and dad weren't home so I answered the door, foot bleeding like crazy. It was the real estate agent about the house. I explained that mom and dad weren't home and that I had hurt myself. He took a look at my foot and immediately went to the kitchen and found a towel. Her wrapped my foot in the towel and carried me to his car. Now days that would be cause for alarm but back then it was cause for relief. He took me to the emergency room, sat with me while the Dr. sewed my foot back together and then real estate agent took me home. He stayed with me there at the house until mom and dad finally came home. I can remember that his first name was Gene but I can't recall his last name. He was very nice.
"Gene" had stopped by the house to tell mom and dad that the house (#14) had sold. We were moving again.