Olfactory Memories
Survival in Tough Times: I breathe deeply, and then I’m with my brothers and our grandfather, back in the north side of the corn crib at the farm on the corner of 103 and Riley Road, New Castle, Indiana, summer of 1961
By Dr. Bruce Smith —— Bio and Archives--July 5, 2024
HeartlandLifestyles | Comments | Back To Full Article
We all have olfactory memories. My dad recalled the smells of hardwood and varnish at the Jesse French piano factory in his hometown of New Castle, Indiana in the 1930s. There was the comforting scent of refrigerator yeast rolls in the oven and black raspberry jelly cooking at my grandmother’s house at the farm. Who hasn’t inhaled above the top of a frosty mug of draft root beer just before taking the first sip? There is the warm smell of new life among the curls of a newborn lamb’s head.
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