Where'd he go?

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I was 2 months old and heading to one of the sunniest places in the U.S., California here I come. On my way from Germany to California we stopped over in New Jersey to clear customs.  From there I don't know if we flew or drove to Hamilton AFB, CA.  Here I remained, in the Golden State, until my 3rd year of life.

According to some stories from my mother, I was a wondrous little bugger in my early years. Apparently, one Thanksgiving day, as the last dish was placed on the dinner table before ringing the dinner bell, I was nowhere to be found. My grandmother was in town visiting, and my parents and her spent 2 hours searching the hillsides high and low, only to find me sitting on the front porch finally waiting for them to return. I was only 3, so who knows where I gotten off to. I know I don't.

I was a wondrous little bugger in my early years.

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P.S.  The year selector will not allow me to select 1970, which is the correct year of this trip. I know this is a travel blog, I'm getting to that point, let me learn how to speak first please.