I am not sure when the original Raggedy Andy came into Daniel’s possession and, therefore, into our lives. I believe the tattered sample that resides, lovingly preserved, in the cedar chest in the garage, is the third specimen. Probably Grandma and Grandpa Cooper bestowed the first Raggedy on Dan.
From the beginning, the two were inseparable. Everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE, little toddler Dan went, Raggedy Andy went also. Thumb in mouth, Raggedy held by an arm or leg in a grubby fist, dragging in the dirt or the lawn, the two explored the realm of our acreage on Sandridge Road, the Forest Service compound at Powell, Idaho, and Sandridge again when we returned to California. Even our subsequent tenure in San Ardo saw Raggedy (probably by now, number two) guarding Dan’s voyages around the teacherage and the Salinas River bottoms. Raggedy was almost always on the pillow next to his sleeping boy at night.
Sometime in Davis after Dan began school, no doubt, Raggedy Andy began to get vacations from the love and subsequent hard usage that his comforting presence brought to our son. I am sure the little doll breathed sigh of relief. Certainly, the specimen in our possession still wears the sewn smile and happy countenance even though one leg is held on with only one shred of fabric and scotch tape. The shortness of this passage in no way is indicative of the influence Raggedy Andy had in Dan’s and subsequently in our lives. The eight or nine year legacy of that little doll lives on.
JP 10-23-2011
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