Mike takes you along on a tour of his early years from childhood to boyhood—and there's more to come!
Welcome to the world of my childhood. In this issue of 16 we are going to start at the very beginning—and in future issues I will bring you up to the present. So close your eyes, turn around three times, and take a lot of steps backwards—fast! Now, let's see where you land!
Here I am at three years of age in Dallas. Mom and I stayed here with my great-grandmother for a while. This is how I looked the first time my dad saw me.
In 1947. Land sakes, I'm a cheerful lookin' lad in this photo, ain't I?
This fuzzy little bundle of life is me at the age of six weeks. As you know by know, I was born on December 30, 1942 in Houston, Texas.
Same bundle of fuzz at just about the same time. That hand you see belongs to my mom, Bette, who was holding me up.
First formal portrait of Mike Nesmith, age five months. At that time, my dad, Warren, was fighting in World War II. He was stationed in the South Pacific and had never seen me.
Here I am at the age of 14 months. We still lived in Houston, though we were soon to move to Dallas.
That's mom, behind me. We'll call her the "Invisible Woman" in this issue, but I promise you'll see a picture of her in the next issue of 16 . This shot was taken in front of the Christian Science Reading Room in Dallas.
Here's a picture of me at a boys' summer camp I went to when I was about nine years old. That was a real horse I was riding—and I loved it!
Ride 'im—cowboy—or at least give it a noble try, which I did. By the way, the counsellor at this camp is still a close friend of ours and he recently called up my mom and told her he's a regular Monkee-watcher.