For the first time in my life, I was doing manual labor! My job at Franklin Coach in Nappanee wasn't hard...filling in nail holes inside little travel trailers and staining trim...and provided a way for me to support my kids again.
Our little house trailer had two good sized bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom. Joey slept with me and Tammy and Buddy, once again, had to share a bedroom. The kids hated it there but, at the time, it was the best I could do. Rent was cheap, only $15 a week.
I kept writing to Joe even though he never responded. Then one day I got a phone call from his doctor. In that call and subsequent ones, the doctor asked me all about the way Joe had been acting leading up to his commitment.
In July, I got a call from Joe. He said he was going to sign himself out. That he was "fed up" with the hospital and didn't think they were doing him any good. I told him not to do anything rash and I'd call him back the next day.
I called his doctor and told him about Joe's phone call and asked if, in his opinion, Joe should leave the hospital. He said no way! But, he added, Joe had voluntarily committed himself and could leave anytime he wanted. He said the only way they could keep Joe from leaving was if either I or his mother came out there and committed him.
Since there was no way I could afford the trip, I called Joe's mother in Florida. She refused. I called the doctor back and told him there was nothing I could do. I asked if Joe would be okay and the doctor suggested I commit him locally...which I knew I could not do.
I then called Joe back, as promised. He had already made travel arrangements and told me he would fly into Chicago and take a bus to Warsaw and gave me dates and times. Since he would be while I was at work, I told him to go to Mom's.
When I got off work, I picked up the kids and we went to Mom's. It was a joyous reunion for all of us. The kids were absolutely thrilled to see Joe again...as he was to see them. This was on a Tuesday. On Friday when I got home from work, Joe said he wanted to go to Detroit to see his uncle and brother. We left early Saturday morning and after a short visit with Uncle George and Georgie, the kids and I went up to Ypsilanti to Avanelles, leaving Joe there with a promise to pick him up at three the next day for the return trip to Indiana.
When we went to get him the next day, he said he wanted to stay a week in order to take care of some "stuff." I tried to talk him out of staying but to no avail.
The next Friday I called him to tell him we'd be there Saturday afternoon to get him...and he said he needed another week. The next Friday I again called him. This time he said he was not coming back to Indiana...that Indiana was not his home. And if the kids and I wanted to live with him, we'd have to come to Detroit. Later, when Joe wasn't home, Uncle George called me. He said to not even try to come up there to live...that Joe was incapable of taking care of himself, much less me and the kids.
On Monday I called Joe's doctor in Camarillo and told him what was going on and asked what he thought I should do. His advice, in a nutshell, was to get a divorce. He said, in his opinion, Joe could function alone...with no responsibilities. He said Joe's illness had started when Joey was born. Before that, Joe really didn't feel any responsibility for me and Tammy and Buddy because he knew I had always worked and taken care of us. But when his own child was born, that put responsibility on him..and when he lost his job at Lincoln Park, it was downhill from there. I was crying while talking to the doctor. He was very kind and said he knew it was a difficult decision to make but he thought I should think about my kids and what was best for them.
So, here I was again, having to choose between my kids and my husband. It was a no-brainer to me. My kids were my life. Did I make the right decision? I don't know. Most people, even my mother, disagreed with me. She thought I should go to Michigan and try to save my marriage. Instead, I filed for divorce.
The first of August, I got laid off from Franklin Coach. After two weeks looking for work, I took a part-time job, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, at a local tavern. I hated it. But the money was good. I didn't make much per hour, but the tips were more than I had made working at Franklin Coach. A big disadvantage was having to leave the kids alone. Tammy was 12, Buddy turned 12 in August...and Joey not yet two. It was a lot of responsibility on Tammy. My hours were 8 pm to 2:30 am. Tammy resented having to stay in the house on those long summer evenings. She and Buddy started fighting and every night at work, I could count on at least one phone call from each of them. Since we lived only two blocks from the bar, I could run home...and often did...if I thought their fighting deserved intervention.
In August I got a job at Holiday Rambler. I was able to quit the bar, except filling in when they needed help...which I was glad to do because of the tips. It was nothing to bring home, in one night, what I made for a week at the trailer factory.
The kids started school in Milford and I thought things were going good, again, for us. Then, in October, a couple of weeks after her 13th birthday, Tammy ran away. She went for a walk on Saturday afternoon. Since I had been called to work at the bar that night, I told her to be home by six so we could eat before I had to leave. She didn't show up. Two days later Mom found her at a friend's house. I won't go into that weekend except to say it was the worst experience of my life...not knowing if she was dead or alive. Thank God for my Dad...who was with me through it all. Mom was in Kentucky for the weekend and didn't know about until she got home late Sunday night. She was at work on Monday and mentioned Tammy's disappearance to a friend...who said Tammy was staying with them! The friend called home and had Tammy come to the duck farm, where Mom worked...then Mom called me and said to come get Tammy.
When I walked into the duck farm, I didn't know whether to hug her or slap her! After the two days misery I had gone through, I was swept with conflicting feelings. Happy she was okay...angry at her for running off. The happy side won. I pulled her into my arms and we both cried. When we got home, we spent the whole day talking. Tammy told me how unhappy she was there...how much she hated being home alone with Buddy and Joey when I worked nights...how ashamed she was about me working in a bar. I promised her I would never work another night at the bar. We'd just have to cut back on our spending and live on the money I made at the trailer factory.
Then...one day Buddy told me Tammy was being stalked. He didn't use that word..but said when they were out, this Mexican boy was always hanging around...and hung around outside the trailer when I wasn't home. Even though I was no longer working at the bar, I had gotten in the habit of going there for a few hours every Saturday night after the kids were in bed. So much for that!
The first Saturday night I stayed home, I was in the living room watching TV, with the lights off..when I saw a man at the window. In a few minutes Buddy came out and said the Mexican was looking in their window. By then I had turned on the lights and when I went outside, he was gone. This happened the next night...and the next...once I heard him try the front door, which was locked.
The following Saturday, Thanksgiving weekend, I was at Moms. Sue, my sister who lived in Kentucky was there, too. I was crying while telling her and Mom about the Mexican boy and how scared I was for Tammy. Sue gave me a small gun.
That night I sat on the couch, facing the door, with the loaded gun in my hand. There's not a doubt in my mind that if the Mexican...who I had learned was a 17 year old boy..had tried to get into the trailer, I would have shot him!
The next day, my Uncle Calvin and his wife Jan stopped by. When he saw the gun laying on top of the TV, he went ballistic! I explained what was going on and he yelled at me, "Have you lost your mind?" And I realized I had.
While I sat on the couch crying, the kids crowded around me, Joey on my lap, Uncle Calvin told Jan to take Tammy and pack us some clothes...that we were not spending another night in that trailer! It just shows how depressed I was that I not only allowed Uncle Calvin to tell me what to do, but to like it...even need it.
We followed Uncle Calvin to Mom's where he told her what was going on...yelling at her for allowing it. When I asked her if the kids and I could stay there until after Christmas...she said no. She said I had a husband in Detroit and should go to him. Mom didn't understand mental illness any better than I had before talking to Joe's doctor.
The kids and I ended up staying with my brother, Jimmy and his family. I planned to move back to Ypsilanti after Christmas. Avanelle invited us to stay with her until I got settled. I called Joe and told him what I was going to do and said he could stay at Avanelle's with us until I found us a place to live. He said no. He said that he had called my old boss...Al Klieman and Al told him he would give me a job whenever I wanted it.
Again, I was torn. Should I go back to Ypsilanti and start all over, knowing Joe was in Detroit but wouldn't live with us? Or should I stay in Indiana...near my family ...especially my brothers and sisters and Uncle Calvin ...all of whom I had grown very close to.
I never consciously made a decision. I kept working, driving from Palestine Lake to Nappanee every day. Then one day at work, a friend mentioned an apartment in Bremen she had looked at and said I should check it out. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I had put down a deposit and a month's rent, starting the first of January. So. We were staying in Indiana. Bremen was about 35 miles from Warsaw, just close enough to visit whenever I wanted to.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 43
Leaving Joe was really hard on all of us. My heart was breaking but I tried to keep it together for the kids. Both Tammy and Buddy were devastated. Tammy sobbed her little heart out for the first hour or so...and Buddy, sitting in the front seat by me, tried to be tough..telling Tammy he was glad to be leaving Kum's house. Tammy said she was glad of that, but wanted Joe with us. "Me too," he said, "but Joe says we can't get everything we want." Yet, he sat there looking out the side window and surreptitiously wiping his eyes every now and then. It made no difference to Joey, though. He had the three people who meant most to him!
I tried to reassure the kids, telling them we were only going to Indiana to wait until Joe got a place of our own then we'd go back...yet, the sinking feeling in my gut was saying it was over. My marriage, my dreams, my life. Now it was just me and my kids again.
We drove for about three hours...in the middle of the desert...and had a flat tire. In a station wagon, the spare is under the floor behind the third seat. We had to unload everything to get to the spare. By then a couple of men in a pickup had stopped to help us. Only to find the spare was also flat. They said the only thing they could do was go on in to Scottsdale, about 30 miles away, and send a tow truck. All in all, by the time the tow truck got there and fixed the tire, we spent about four hours sitting beside that road. The kids were great. They alternately played with Joey in the desert by the car and slept.
We stayed at a motel in Scottsdale and got an early start the next day. Overall, we took out time going to Indiana. We drove through the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. I opted not to drive the hundred or so miles to visit the grand canyon...a decision I've often regretted. We did go a little out of our way to see the meteor hole. We stopped at a few Indian villages and I bought the kids some cheap souvenirs. I really had to be frugal. I had left Joe all my money except for my allotment check of $80 ...and the credit card. I charged the gas and the motels and we used the money for food.
We stopped at a deserted western town and stayed a couple of hours where the kids could run off the excess energy and I could take a break from driving. Even though Joey was good, considering he was only 18 months old, after a few hours in the car he got really cranky. So, even though we were on the road from 8 in the morning until about 10 at night, we didn't cover a lot of miles because we stopped often.
Wednesday evening we crossed the Mississippi River, awed by the Arch, and stopped to eat. I explained that we were only six hour from Warsaw and could either get a motel for the night...or keep going, putting us at at Mom and Dad's about one a.m. Both Tammy and Buddy said to go on...they were anxious to get there. At the next gas stop, I called Mom collect and told her we'd be in between one and two...which was a surprise to her since she didn't know we'd left California.
It was the week before Easter when we got to Indiana...and we stayed with Mom and Dad the rest of April. Again the kids started a new school. I got a job in Nappanee at a trailer factory and rented a mobile home in Milford. We moved there the first of May...and again, the kids started a new school. This made four different schools in one school year...actually, four different schools in five months!
Two weeks after I got home, I got a disturbing letter from Joe. It scared me to death. He said he was living in a room in Los Angeles. The letter sounded like a suicide note. I didn't know what to do. I called Joe's uncle George in Detroit and read the letter to him. He told me to take care of my kids and he'd take care of Joe.
Uncle George called Kum Walter and, I guess, read him the riot act. Told him they had interfered enough in our lives and now it was up to them to find Joe and take care of him. I guess after we left, Joe and Kuma Lillian had words, to put it mildly. He accused her of running us off and she said it was his fault for being too lazy to take care of us. So, in a huff, he left them and went to LA...and got a room where he holed up, only leaving it to mail that letter to me...at the same time he sent a note to Kum asking them to put my stuff in storage. I had left all our kitchen stuff...pots, pan, dishes, silverware.. as well as all our linens, a console TV set, Joey's crib, all my picture albums, my silver tea set and a painting that the office had given me, as well as other odds and ends.
After Uncle George's call, Kum went to find Joe...and after some discussion, took Joe to Camarillo State Hospital where Joe voluntarily committed himself. And just walked away from Joe...with never another visit or phone call. Some Kum! The only contact Joe had with them again was some papers they sent to the Hospital for Joe to sign...including a Quit Claim Deed giving them back their house.
When I later called them and asked them to ship my stuff to me, Kuma said they had sold most of it a garage sale. I said then to send me the money, as well as the money I had paid on their house. She got all huffy and said the over $2,000 I had given them for back payments and utilities was rent and board for the two months we all stayed with them...and hung up on me. I never heard from her again...but when I visited friends in Detroit, I heard all kinds of lies she told them...such as we never paid them anything...and how good they treated us...while we were a couple of ingrates! Luckily, when I was at Kuma Eva's and she was telling me the worst of it, in my purse I had a couple of cancelled checks...endorsed by Walter, for over a thousand dollars.
I tried to reassure the kids, telling them we were only going to Indiana to wait until Joe got a place of our own then we'd go back...yet, the sinking feeling in my gut was saying it was over. My marriage, my dreams, my life. Now it was just me and my kids again.
We drove for about three hours...in the middle of the desert...and had a flat tire. In a station wagon, the spare is under the floor behind the third seat. We had to unload everything to get to the spare. By then a couple of men in a pickup had stopped to help us. Only to find the spare was also flat. They said the only thing they could do was go on in to Scottsdale, about 30 miles away, and send a tow truck. All in all, by the time the tow truck got there and fixed the tire, we spent about four hours sitting beside that road. The kids were great. They alternately played with Joey in the desert by the car and slept.
We stayed at a motel in Scottsdale and got an early start the next day. Overall, we took out time going to Indiana. We drove through the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. I opted not to drive the hundred or so miles to visit the grand canyon...a decision I've often regretted. We did go a little out of our way to see the meteor hole. We stopped at a few Indian villages and I bought the kids some cheap souvenirs. I really had to be frugal. I had left Joe all my money except for my allotment check of $80 ...and the credit card. I charged the gas and the motels and we used the money for food.
We stopped at a deserted western town and stayed a couple of hours where the kids could run off the excess energy and I could take a break from driving. Even though Joey was good, considering he was only 18 months old, after a few hours in the car he got really cranky. So, even though we were on the road from 8 in the morning until about 10 at night, we didn't cover a lot of miles because we stopped often.
Wednesday evening we crossed the Mississippi River, awed by the Arch, and stopped to eat. I explained that we were only six hour from Warsaw and could either get a motel for the night...or keep going, putting us at at Mom and Dad's about one a.m. Both Tammy and Buddy said to go on...they were anxious to get there. At the next gas stop, I called Mom collect and told her we'd be in between one and two...which was a surprise to her since she didn't know we'd left California.
It was the week before Easter when we got to Indiana...and we stayed with Mom and Dad the rest of April. Again the kids started a new school. I got a job in Nappanee at a trailer factory and rented a mobile home in Milford. We moved there the first of May...and again, the kids started a new school. This made four different schools in one school year...actually, four different schools in five months!
Two weeks after I got home, I got a disturbing letter from Joe. It scared me to death. He said he was living in a room in Los Angeles. The letter sounded like a suicide note. I didn't know what to do. I called Joe's uncle George in Detroit and read the letter to him. He told me to take care of my kids and he'd take care of Joe.
Uncle George called Kum Walter and, I guess, read him the riot act. Told him they had interfered enough in our lives and now it was up to them to find Joe and take care of him. I guess after we left, Joe and Kuma Lillian had words, to put it mildly. He accused her of running us off and she said it was his fault for being too lazy to take care of us. So, in a huff, he left them and went to LA...and got a room where he holed up, only leaving it to mail that letter to me...at the same time he sent a note to Kum asking them to put my stuff in storage. I had left all our kitchen stuff...pots, pan, dishes, silverware.. as well as all our linens, a console TV set, Joey's crib, all my picture albums, my silver tea set and a painting that the office had given me, as well as other odds and ends.
After Uncle George's call, Kum went to find Joe...and after some discussion, took Joe to Camarillo State Hospital where Joe voluntarily committed himself. And just walked away from Joe...with never another visit or phone call. Some Kum! The only contact Joe had with them again was some papers they sent to the Hospital for Joe to sign...including a Quit Claim Deed giving them back their house.
When I later called them and asked them to ship my stuff to me, Kuma said they had sold most of it a garage sale. I said then to send me the money, as well as the money I had paid on their house. She got all huffy and said the over $2,000 I had given them for back payments and utilities was rent and board for the two months we all stayed with them...and hung up on me. I never heard from her again...but when I visited friends in Detroit, I heard all kinds of lies she told them...such as we never paid them anything...and how good they treated us...while we were a couple of ingrates! Luckily, when I was at Kuma Eva's and she was telling me the worst of it, in my purse I had a couple of cancelled checks...endorsed by Walter, for over a thousand dollars.
Monday, September 28, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 42
I wonder how many people can recognize mental illness when they're living with it. I didn't. In retrospect, I should have. Joe changed completely. The man I fell in love with was strong and confident, almost to the point of arrogance...generous, kind, loving, intelligent and was happiest when he was taking care of someone else. The man I left in California was stubborn, hesitant, dishonest (constant lying to me had started before he left Detroit.) He was willing to let someone else take control of his life. He didn't want to work. He was looking to make an easy buck..wanted to be a wheeler-dealer like Kum. One of the reasons I fell in love with him was because he made me feel like I could lean on him...I didn't have to be the strong one. Suddenly, that was gone.
I have been critisized by Joe's family and some members of our church, as well as by the Kums, over leaving Joe in California...choosing my kids over my husband. And I admit I did. In fact, I told him and the Kums that was what I was doing. My kids were unhappy. The atmosphere there was unhealthy for them. The way I saw it, I only had two choices. Leave Joe, but get a job and a place for me and the kids there in California...or go to Mom and Dad's. Staying there didn't feel right...I had no support network there. I felt going to Mom and Dad's gave Joe a message. He knew I did not like Indiana and didn't want to live there. By not going back to Ypsi, I was telling him it was temporary. Either he straightened up and came home or else got a job and a home for us to live there in California. At any rate, I was determined to get my children away from that house!
I didn't realize Joe was mentally ill. I thought he was lazy. And, like I said, he wanted to be a wheeler-dealer and make the big bucks that Kum bragged about making (yet he was on the verge of bankruptcy because he had poured every penny he could beg, borrow or steal into a big desert project...that I admit, a few years later made him a very wealthy man.)
More about Joe's illness later.
I have been critisized by Joe's family and some members of our church, as well as by the Kums, over leaving Joe in California...choosing my kids over my husband. And I admit I did. In fact, I told him and the Kums that was what I was doing. My kids were unhappy. The atmosphere there was unhealthy for them. The way I saw it, I only had two choices. Leave Joe, but get a job and a place for me and the kids there in California...or go to Mom and Dad's. Staying there didn't feel right...I had no support network there. I felt going to Mom and Dad's gave Joe a message. He knew I did not like Indiana and didn't want to live there. By not going back to Ypsi, I was telling him it was temporary. Either he straightened up and came home or else got a job and a home for us to live there in California. At any rate, I was determined to get my children away from that house!
I didn't realize Joe was mentally ill. I thought he was lazy. And, like I said, he wanted to be a wheeler-dealer and make the big bucks that Kum bragged about making (yet he was on the verge of bankruptcy because he had poured every penny he could beg, borrow or steal into a big desert project...that I admit, a few years later made him a very wealthy man.)
More about Joe's illness later.
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 41
Not everything about our brief stay in California was bad. We actually did have some good times...especially when we, Joe, me and the kids, got out by ourselves away from the Kums.
We spent one Sunday in Tijuana. That day we took Pam with us and I had never seen so much happiness in that child. On the way down, we stopped at Capistrano but, of course, it was not the right time of the year to see the birds.
In Tijuana, we parked the car and walked...and walked...I don't think we missed a corner of that town. Downtown, itself, was only a few blocks ...with a circus-style atmosphere. Shop-owners..or their employees...would actually chase us down the sidewalk hawking their products. It was so colorful and noisy, we didn't know where to look first. One of the kids was constantly yelling for me to "Look, Mom...look."
We went into a liquor store to buy a small bottle of tiquilla as a souvenir. Buddy was amazed at the worm in each bottle. He asked the salesman what to do with the worm...and the salesman proceeded....as a wide-eyed eleven year old gaped...to take a big drink..and swallow the worm! Like Buddy, I didn't know whether to laugh or puke! We did buy a bottle of tequilla but I don't know what ever happened to it. We never opened it and as far as I know, left it at the Kums.
We stopped at an outdoors cafe and ordered real Mexican tacos...that tasted just like the ones at Taco Bell. And drank warm cokes with them. We could probably have gotten a glass of ice but were afraid of the water. Little Pam must have mentioned a dozen times during the day that we mustn't drink the water in Mexico.
It was late when we got home...to a lecture from Kuma about the next day being a school day, but we'd enjoyed the day so much, I just took Joey straight to bed, determined not to let her ruin my happy glow.
The second weekend we were there, Joe and the kids and I went to Los Angeles to see my cousin, Troy,Jr. and his family. We spent an enjoyable couple of hours with them...and went back once more while I was there. After that first visit, we left and went on a tour of Hollywood and Beverly Hills. We bought a map from a street vendor and drove by all the celebrity homes. We got a real thrill at Lucille Ball's house when we saw her get out of her car in her driveway. A lot of the homes were secluded behind walls and trees...but some, like Lucille Ball's were more open, visually. Buddy said he needed to use the bathroom and I dared him to go up and ring Lucille Ball's doorbell and ask her if he could use hers. Of course, he was too shy to do it.
We parked and walked down Rodeo Drive and window shopped. We fitted our feet in the footprints of the stars. And kept our eyes peeled watching for a celebrity but never saw nary a one. I took two rolls of pictures that, like the tiquilla, got left at Kums.
We never tired of the ocean. We had several overlook view points that we visited every day. When the kids got home from school, I would rush them into the car with me and Joey, and we'd take off for a couple of hours, sometimes just driving around...we especially liked to drive around Ojai...a beautiful area. Mostly, though, we'd park somewhere and just watch the ocean and the surfers.
Santa Barbara was just a half hour north of Ventura and we loved the beach and park there. That was where we spent most Saturdays. There was always exhibits by "starving artists" and I could spend hours just walking and looking at the paintings...but didn't get to. One, Joey was too rambunctious and two, Buddy and Tammy got bored looking at paintings. It was okay with me, I was just as happy to sit at a picnic bench while they ran and played on the beach.
One week we had a severe storm...well, actually the storm was out at sea. We had a lot of rain, but the waves were huge! The kids came home from school early because the waves were washing up to the road. They came home with stories about watching the waves out of the bus windows, that broke just a few feet from the road. I put them in the car and we drove as close to the ocean as we could...which wasn't very close as the police had the roads blocked. But we did get to a spot where we could park and watch the waves come in. There was a long pier, the length of several football fields, out into the ocean with many vendor booths on it. That pier was completely underwater. Houses up to three blocks from the beach were nearly underwater. In fact, Kum's house was on a hill and the water was at the bottom of the street. The next day all the water was gone...back into the sea.
I spent one unforgettable Satuday night there. Kums took Joe and me to a play and cast party afterwards at the Masquer's Club. I had read about the Masquers Club for years in Movie magazines and was thrilled to be able to actually see it. The play was good...Three on a Match...but the cast party was a night to remember...for me anyway. Because Kum Walter was a wheeler-dealer in real estate, he knew and often rubbed elbows (his phrase) with celebrities and political figures. He knew everybody!
After the play, we sat at a table with the female star of the show, Sandy Dennis and her husband. Sandy had a little boy the same age as Joey and we shared baby stories. She invited me to bring Joey over and we made a date for the following week.
Bob Denver was the male star of the show. I was shaking in my shoes when he asked me to dance...then kept me on the floor through at least six songs. He even asked me to leave and go someplace else with him and I said...okay, as soon as I ask my husband! Then I took him over the table where Joe was sitting with Kum Walter and several other men and introduced them.
Bob said after that, the least he could do was introduce me to the person who I had been watching all the time we were dancing. He took me to the bar and said, "Duke, I've got somebody here who wants to meet you." Believe me, I was so star-struck I couldn't breathe. John Wayne took my hand and said, "hello there, little lady." Bob Denver leaned down and whispered in my ear, "breathe!" I stood there for a few minutes while the two men talked..then John asked me who I was there with. I told him my husband, Joe, and pointed to the table where he was sitting...and John said, "Oh, he's with Walter"...and not in a pleasant tone. Just then Joe motioned for me to come there, so I said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Wayne." To which he replied, "It's John, or Duke if you prefer." Then he kissed me...right on the lips" Just a quick peck...but still!! and said he was glad he met me, too.
I floated over to Joe's table where he and all the men, who had been watching my encounter my John Wayne, started teasing me about being kissed by the Duke, himself...and teasing Joe that he had some big boots to fill now.
Joey and I did go to visit Sandy Dennis, three different times. She was a wonderful, warm, generous, kind woman. And I don't know just what I expected a big star to be like, but she wasn't like one. She baked cookies and played with our babies. She gave Joey two outfits that were too big for her baby. The last visit to her house, I told her I was planning to leave the first of April and she said she was sorry to hear that and would miss our weekly visits. We had fast become friends and I'm sure had I stayed there, that friendship would have grown. After I got to Indiana, we corresponded a few times. Then one of us, maybe me, didn't answer a letter...and the relationship died.
We spent one Sunday in Tijuana. That day we took Pam with us and I had never seen so much happiness in that child. On the way down, we stopped at Capistrano but, of course, it was not the right time of the year to see the birds.
In Tijuana, we parked the car and walked...and walked...I don't think we missed a corner of that town. Downtown, itself, was only a few blocks ...with a circus-style atmosphere. Shop-owners..or their employees...would actually chase us down the sidewalk hawking their products. It was so colorful and noisy, we didn't know where to look first. One of the kids was constantly yelling for me to "Look, Mom...look."
We went into a liquor store to buy a small bottle of tiquilla as a souvenir. Buddy was amazed at the worm in each bottle. He asked the salesman what to do with the worm...and the salesman proceeded....as a wide-eyed eleven year old gaped...to take a big drink..and swallow the worm! Like Buddy, I didn't know whether to laugh or puke! We did buy a bottle of tequilla but I don't know what ever happened to it. We never opened it and as far as I know, left it at the Kums.
We stopped at an outdoors cafe and ordered real Mexican tacos...that tasted just like the ones at Taco Bell. And drank warm cokes with them. We could probably have gotten a glass of ice but were afraid of the water. Little Pam must have mentioned a dozen times during the day that we mustn't drink the water in Mexico.
It was late when we got home...to a lecture from Kuma about the next day being a school day, but we'd enjoyed the day so much, I just took Joey straight to bed, determined not to let her ruin my happy glow.
The second weekend we were there, Joe and the kids and I went to Los Angeles to see my cousin, Troy,Jr. and his family. We spent an enjoyable couple of hours with them...and went back once more while I was there. After that first visit, we left and went on a tour of Hollywood and Beverly Hills. We bought a map from a street vendor and drove by all the celebrity homes. We got a real thrill at Lucille Ball's house when we saw her get out of her car in her driveway. A lot of the homes were secluded behind walls and trees...but some, like Lucille Ball's were more open, visually. Buddy said he needed to use the bathroom and I dared him to go up and ring Lucille Ball's doorbell and ask her if he could use hers. Of course, he was too shy to do it.
We parked and walked down Rodeo Drive and window shopped. We fitted our feet in the footprints of the stars. And kept our eyes peeled watching for a celebrity but never saw nary a one. I took two rolls of pictures that, like the tiquilla, got left at Kums.
We never tired of the ocean. We had several overlook view points that we visited every day. When the kids got home from school, I would rush them into the car with me and Joey, and we'd take off for a couple of hours, sometimes just driving around...we especially liked to drive around Ojai...a beautiful area. Mostly, though, we'd park somewhere and just watch the ocean and the surfers.
Santa Barbara was just a half hour north of Ventura and we loved the beach and park there. That was where we spent most Saturdays. There was always exhibits by "starving artists" and I could spend hours just walking and looking at the paintings...but didn't get to. One, Joey was too rambunctious and two, Buddy and Tammy got bored looking at paintings. It was okay with me, I was just as happy to sit at a picnic bench while they ran and played on the beach.
One week we had a severe storm...well, actually the storm was out at sea. We had a lot of rain, but the waves were huge! The kids came home from school early because the waves were washing up to the road. They came home with stories about watching the waves out of the bus windows, that broke just a few feet from the road. I put them in the car and we drove as close to the ocean as we could...which wasn't very close as the police had the roads blocked. But we did get to a spot where we could park and watch the waves come in. There was a long pier, the length of several football fields, out into the ocean with many vendor booths on it. That pier was completely underwater. Houses up to three blocks from the beach were nearly underwater. In fact, Kum's house was on a hill and the water was at the bottom of the street. The next day all the water was gone...back into the sea.
I spent one unforgettable Satuday night there. Kums took Joe and me to a play and cast party afterwards at the Masquer's Club. I had read about the Masquers Club for years in Movie magazines and was thrilled to be able to actually see it. The play was good...Three on a Match...but the cast party was a night to remember...for me anyway. Because Kum Walter was a wheeler-dealer in real estate, he knew and often rubbed elbows (his phrase) with celebrities and political figures. He knew everybody!
After the play, we sat at a table with the female star of the show, Sandy Dennis and her husband. Sandy had a little boy the same age as Joey and we shared baby stories. She invited me to bring Joey over and we made a date for the following week.
Bob Denver was the male star of the show. I was shaking in my shoes when he asked me to dance...then kept me on the floor through at least six songs. He even asked me to leave and go someplace else with him and I said...okay, as soon as I ask my husband! Then I took him over the table where Joe was sitting with Kum Walter and several other men and introduced them.
Bob said after that, the least he could do was introduce me to the person who I had been watching all the time we were dancing. He took me to the bar and said, "Duke, I've got somebody here who wants to meet you." Believe me, I was so star-struck I couldn't breathe. John Wayne took my hand and said, "hello there, little lady." Bob Denver leaned down and whispered in my ear, "breathe!" I stood there for a few minutes while the two men talked..then John asked me who I was there with. I told him my husband, Joe, and pointed to the table where he was sitting...and John said, "Oh, he's with Walter"...and not in a pleasant tone. Just then Joe motioned for me to come there, so I said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Wayne." To which he replied, "It's John, or Duke if you prefer." Then he kissed me...right on the lips" Just a quick peck...but still!! and said he was glad he met me, too.
I floated over to Joe's table where he and all the men, who had been watching my encounter my John Wayne, started teasing me about being kissed by the Duke, himself...and teasing Joe that he had some big boots to fill now.
Joey and I did go to visit Sandy Dennis, three different times. She was a wonderful, warm, generous, kind woman. And I don't know just what I expected a big star to be like, but she wasn't like one. She baked cookies and played with our babies. She gave Joey two outfits that were too big for her baby. The last visit to her house, I told her I was planning to leave the first of April and she said she was sorry to hear that and would miss our weekly visits. We had fast become friends and I'm sure had I stayed there, that friendship would have grown. After I got to Indiana, we corresponded a few times. Then one of us, maybe me, didn't answer a letter...and the relationship died.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 40
We left Highland Park at five p.m on Tuesday, near the first of February. Joe flew in on Monday and took our station wagon to have it serviced and get a hitch attached...so we could tow the Volks. We didn't get the wagon back until after noon and then had to load it...so we were several hours later leaving than we'd planned.
The first night we drove into Texas before stopping at a motel, the second night we hit a dust storm near Phoenix and didn't find a motel vacancy until after midnight. The next day we drove the rest of the way into Ventura, California, getting there about eight p.m.
We were all ready for the long trip to end. Joey was fifteen months old and the trip was hard on him. He was constantly climbing from the front seat to the back...then a few minutes later back to the front. We had car seat hooked over the middle of the front seat, but he wouldn't stay in it very long at a time. Tammy and Buddy were ready to desert him several times...literally. At one rest stop, Buddy and Tammy took Joey out in the field (desert) and ran off and left him. When he came running up to me, Buddy looked at Tammy and said...It didn't work, he found us. We all laughed but I wasn't completely sure it was a joke!
Kuma Walter and Kuma Lillian had a lovely, big ranch house. Joe and Joey and I shared a room...we had brought Joey's crib. Tammy shared a room with Pam, Kum's seven year old daughter. Buddy slept on the sofa bed in the family room, as did Kum's son Paul on weekends. Paul was attending a military academy even though he was only 14 years old. I guess they'd had some problems with him in public schools. Actually, from what I saw, he was a normal kid and Kuma Lillian didn't want to bother with him.
The two months we stayed with the Kums in Ventura were a nightmare. Kums just didn't like kids, not theirs and certainly not mine. After the first few mornings when Kuma complained about Joey being so noisy in the mornings...he wasn't...he was a laughing happy baby in the mornings...but his chatter and laughing bothered Kuma...I started getting him up...changing and dressing him...creeping out to the kitchen with him...making his breakfast and taking it and him to the car. We drove around for at least two hours, stopping at an over-look by the ocean where I fed him. On weekends I took Tammy and Buddy with us. We'd go home when I was sure it was past time for Kuma to get out of bed.
Although Kuma tolerated Tammy, she didn't like Buddy at all. She would not allow him to play in the house. After school, he was shooed outside or to the garage to play, coming inside only to eat and sleep.
I allowed this to happen and kept my mouth shut all the month of Feb. I spent a lot of time in our bedroom with Joey...and Buddy. Joe was no help at all. He constantly told me we had to ge grateful to Kums for taking us in...and that it was only for a few weeks.
The first of March, I got several commission checks as well as my child support allotment. I told Joe we more than enough to rent our own place and begged him to let us move. Then he told me that Kum was behind on the house payments as well as other bills and was going to declare bankruptcy. Before Joe left to come get us, Kum had put the house in Joe's name...just a formality so they wouldn't lose it. But Joe said we had to make the house payments plus two months back payments. There went all my money except the allotment which I refused to give over. We didnt' even have enough left to make our own car payment
While we were there Kuma never lifted a hand to do anything other than cook. I did all the cleaning, the washing and ironing and everything else around the house.
Joe got up every morning and went to work from about 7 to four. Three weeks after we got there, Joey got sick. On Friday, Joe's payday, I went to pick up his paycheck in the morning so I could buy some medication for Joey. Wellllll. When I told the receptionist who I was and what I wanted, she told me Joe didn't work there anymore. He had quit over a week ago. Yet every morning that week he had gone to work..at least that was what I thought. Turned out he went to the library and spent the days because he didn't know how to tell me...as well as the Kums...that he wasn't working.
Towards the middle of March I went out and found a job...and a house for us to rent. Joe refused to move. And said I couldn't take the job, either...that Kuma would not watch Joey while I worked. I gave him an ultimatum. Either find a job and let us move by the first of April, or I was going to Indiana.
Needless to say, Kum and Kuma backed him up in everything. Naturally they didn't want us to move. I was paying their bills and working as an unpaid servant. Every day I'd get a lecture from Kuma about Joe being the head of the household...in other words, my boss...and it was my responsibility to back him up and encourage him.
We did have a few good times while out there and I'll write about them later. Right now, I'm in a fuming mode and just remembering those days raises my blood pressure!
Anyway, the first of April Joe said he didn't have a job...but had a promised of one for the following school year. In the meantime, he said, we'd stay with Kums. You might stay, I said....I'm getting my kids out of here!
The first week in April, I made good on my threat. Early on Saturday morning, I got up, got the kids dressed...the station wagon loaded with our clothes and said good-bye to Joe. We all cried. I told Joe I was going to Mom and Dad in Indiana...and all he had to do was send me a paystub and proof that he had rented us a place to live and we'd be back...even if I had to borrow the money for the trip.
The first night we drove into Texas before stopping at a motel, the second night we hit a dust storm near Phoenix and didn't find a motel vacancy until after midnight. The next day we drove the rest of the way into Ventura, California, getting there about eight p.m.
We were all ready for the long trip to end. Joey was fifteen months old and the trip was hard on him. He was constantly climbing from the front seat to the back...then a few minutes later back to the front. We had car seat hooked over the middle of the front seat, but he wouldn't stay in it very long at a time. Tammy and Buddy were ready to desert him several times...literally. At one rest stop, Buddy and Tammy took Joey out in the field (desert) and ran off and left him. When he came running up to me, Buddy looked at Tammy and said...It didn't work, he found us. We all laughed but I wasn't completely sure it was a joke!
Kuma Walter and Kuma Lillian had a lovely, big ranch house. Joe and Joey and I shared a room...we had brought Joey's crib. Tammy shared a room with Pam, Kum's seven year old daughter. Buddy slept on the sofa bed in the family room, as did Kum's son Paul on weekends. Paul was attending a military academy even though he was only 14 years old. I guess they'd had some problems with him in public schools. Actually, from what I saw, he was a normal kid and Kuma Lillian didn't want to bother with him.
The two months we stayed with the Kums in Ventura were a nightmare. Kums just didn't like kids, not theirs and certainly not mine. After the first few mornings when Kuma complained about Joey being so noisy in the mornings...he wasn't...he was a laughing happy baby in the mornings...but his chatter and laughing bothered Kuma...I started getting him up...changing and dressing him...creeping out to the kitchen with him...making his breakfast and taking it and him to the car. We drove around for at least two hours, stopping at an over-look by the ocean where I fed him. On weekends I took Tammy and Buddy with us. We'd go home when I was sure it was past time for Kuma to get out of bed.
Although Kuma tolerated Tammy, she didn't like Buddy at all. She would not allow him to play in the house. After school, he was shooed outside or to the garage to play, coming inside only to eat and sleep.
I allowed this to happen and kept my mouth shut all the month of Feb. I spent a lot of time in our bedroom with Joey...and Buddy. Joe was no help at all. He constantly told me we had to ge grateful to Kums for taking us in...and that it was only for a few weeks.
The first of March, I got several commission checks as well as my child support allotment. I told Joe we more than enough to rent our own place and begged him to let us move. Then he told me that Kum was behind on the house payments as well as other bills and was going to declare bankruptcy. Before Joe left to come get us, Kum had put the house in Joe's name...just a formality so they wouldn't lose it. But Joe said we had to make the house payments plus two months back payments. There went all my money except the allotment which I refused to give over. We didnt' even have enough left to make our own car payment
While we were there Kuma never lifted a hand to do anything other than cook. I did all the cleaning, the washing and ironing and everything else around the house.
Joe got up every morning and went to work from about 7 to four. Three weeks after we got there, Joey got sick. On Friday, Joe's payday, I went to pick up his paycheck in the morning so I could buy some medication for Joey. Wellllll. When I told the receptionist who I was and what I wanted, she told me Joe didn't work there anymore. He had quit over a week ago. Yet every morning that week he had gone to work..at least that was what I thought. Turned out he went to the library and spent the days because he didn't know how to tell me...as well as the Kums...that he wasn't working.
Towards the middle of March I went out and found a job...and a house for us to rent. Joe refused to move. And said I couldn't take the job, either...that Kuma would not watch Joey while I worked. I gave him an ultimatum. Either find a job and let us move by the first of April, or I was going to Indiana.
Needless to say, Kum and Kuma backed him up in everything. Naturally they didn't want us to move. I was paying their bills and working as an unpaid servant. Every day I'd get a lecture from Kuma about Joe being the head of the household...in other words, my boss...and it was my responsibility to back him up and encourage him.
We did have a few good times while out there and I'll write about them later. Right now, I'm in a fuming mode and just remembering those days raises my blood pressure!
Anyway, the first of April Joe said he didn't have a job...but had a promised of one for the following school year. In the meantime, he said, we'd stay with Kums. You might stay, I said....I'm getting my kids out of here!
The first week in April, I made good on my threat. Early on Saturday morning, I got up, got the kids dressed...the station wagon loaded with our clothes and said good-bye to Joe. We all cried. I told Joe I was going to Mom and Dad in Indiana...and all he had to do was send me a paystub and proof that he had rented us a place to live and we'd be back...even if I had to borrow the money for the trip.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 39
I have been dreading writing about this next period in the lives of my children and me. It was very difficult for all of us and just thinking about writing it has brought back so many painful memories that I just can't even try to write them down....for the sake of my own mental health. Instead I will write the basic facts as we lived them.
As that summer of 1970 drew to a close, Joe was still unemployed. He had turned down two or three jobs at junior highs and a freshman basketball coach. Now he reconsidered...but it was too late. All the jobs had been filled.
Labor Day weekend my parents and siblings came up for the weekend. We went to the Michigan State Fair and had a wonderful time. Mom and Dad again slept in our room...and Joe and I again slept in the little bed in the den. The next morning Joe mentioned that he had not taken his epilepsy medicine the night before because when he remembered it, he didn't want to disturb Mom and Dad.
Later that morning Mom and Dad left to spend the day at Aunt Susie's before going back to Indiana that evening. Since we planned to follow them, Tammy rode up with them. I was just getting stuff around for the baby when Joe had a seizure. This was the first one I'd ever seen and it scared me to death. It wasn't a pretty thing. Buddy and Joey were in the living room with us and I told Buddy to take Joey out to the porch. I didn't want Buddy scared. too. Luckily, he hadn't seen Joe fall, so didnt' know what was going on.
Joe fell to the floor, convulsing hard enough to shake the house. I remembered what the doctor had told me when I consulted him about whether or not to have a baby. He said to make sure there was nothing he could hit or break and hurt himself...and walk away until it was over. Well, I couldn't walk away. I grabbed a cushion off the couch and forced it under Joe's head because his head was hitting the floor hard. And sat beside him until it was over, about three minutes...which as I later learned, was a long one. After the seizure, Joe went to sleep and I had been warned that he would sleep several hours after one. I didn't know what to do. Tammy had gone with Mom and Dad and I had to go get her. So I called Georgie and Uncle George and told them what was going on. They came right over and said they'd stay there while I went to Ypsilanti...and not to worry or hurry back, that Joe wouldn't even know I was gone for five or six hours. I left...and was back in five hours. Joe was awake and mad as heck at me for leaving him!
The next day I called his neurologist and got an appointment for the next day. During his talking to Joe it came out that Joe had not missed just the one dose of medication...but had been taking it irregularly for a month. Sure enough, when I counted his pill, he had missed six doses that month. Now I was the one who was mad as heck. And from then on, I give the pills to him myself.
As it happened, teachers at Detroit schools went out on strike that year and school didn't start until near the end of September. Detroit offered...and Joe accepted...a job teaching history at a middle school. A job he hated. He worked two weeks and one morning wouldn't get up to go to work. I called in sick for him...every day until both his sick days and personal days were used up, at which time the school let him go.
Money became a big issue. Our savings were going down faster than I could add to it. I had to take more floor time at the office...leaving Joey with Loretta...and more evening appointments...leaving Tammy in charge. The more I worked, the more Joe was angry. I knew he was resentful that I was having to work so much. Still, he refused to get out of bed. We had to carry all his meals to him. When I left the house, I made sure his pills were counted out and put beside the bed with a glass of water. Then he had another seizure and a few days later, another one. Soon, it was several a week. I didn't know how or why, but he only had the seizures when I was home...for which I was thankful. I don't know how Tammy would have handled seeing it.
I took Joe to both our family doctor and his neurologist. The family doctor gave him a clean bill of health. The neurologist changed his medication. Still the seizures continued.
The first of December, Joe began talking about going to California to visit our Kumas. After several ...expensive...long distance calls to them, he decided to go for two weeks. I took him to the airport and kissed him goodbye....praying the vacation would help him. I talked to him everyday and to Kuma Lillian who assured me Joe was doing fine and had not had a seizure since he got there.
The day before he was due to fly home, he called...collect...and said he was staying for another week...then it was another week. The kids and I went to Indiana for Christmas...a sad one for us without Joe. Then it was New Year's ...and again, Joe had decided to stay longer. Except now, he was saying he was never coming back. Several days, several angry phone calls and a few buckets of tears...I agreed to join him...if he had a job first.
A few days later he said he had a job with an office cleaning company. Subsequently, I put our house up for sale. Then I had an indoors garage sale...selling all our furniture, keeping only essential items...kitchenware, dishes, linens, and our clothes. I cried over every piece of furniture that walked out the door.
The first of February, Joe flew home to help me drive across country. We had a station wagon and a Volkswagen. We crammed the Volks as full as it would go. We rented a car-topper for the top of the staton wagon and stuffed it full. The back of the station wagon was also loaded down.
When we were ready to leave, after tearful goodbyes to my brother and uncle, Joe's brother and uncle, with everybody in the station wagon, I told them I needed to check on something. Leaving them all in the car...I went back inside to say a final farewell to the first home I had ever owned and loved as I would never love another house.
Joe sent Tammy to get me..and she found me on the floor of my lovingly refurbished bathroom, sobbing my heart out....and joined me. A few minutes later, Buddy came looking for us...and he too was soon on the floor with us...all three of us sitting there with our arms around each other, me hugging them both to me....crying as hard as we could...and the next thing I knew, Jimmy was there crying with us. He had decided to drive by, thinking we had gone.
The trip was long and uneventful, except for me crying most of that first day.
As that summer of 1970 drew to a close, Joe was still unemployed. He had turned down two or three jobs at junior highs and a freshman basketball coach. Now he reconsidered...but it was too late. All the jobs had been filled.
Labor Day weekend my parents and siblings came up for the weekend. We went to the Michigan State Fair and had a wonderful time. Mom and Dad again slept in our room...and Joe and I again slept in the little bed in the den. The next morning Joe mentioned that he had not taken his epilepsy medicine the night before because when he remembered it, he didn't want to disturb Mom and Dad.
Later that morning Mom and Dad left to spend the day at Aunt Susie's before going back to Indiana that evening. Since we planned to follow them, Tammy rode up with them. I was just getting stuff around for the baby when Joe had a seizure. This was the first one I'd ever seen and it scared me to death. It wasn't a pretty thing. Buddy and Joey were in the living room with us and I told Buddy to take Joey out to the porch. I didn't want Buddy scared. too. Luckily, he hadn't seen Joe fall, so didnt' know what was going on.
Joe fell to the floor, convulsing hard enough to shake the house. I remembered what the doctor had told me when I consulted him about whether or not to have a baby. He said to make sure there was nothing he could hit or break and hurt himself...and walk away until it was over. Well, I couldn't walk away. I grabbed a cushion off the couch and forced it under Joe's head because his head was hitting the floor hard. And sat beside him until it was over, about three minutes...which as I later learned, was a long one. After the seizure, Joe went to sleep and I had been warned that he would sleep several hours after one. I didn't know what to do. Tammy had gone with Mom and Dad and I had to go get her. So I called Georgie and Uncle George and told them what was going on. They came right over and said they'd stay there while I went to Ypsilanti...and not to worry or hurry back, that Joe wouldn't even know I was gone for five or six hours. I left...and was back in five hours. Joe was awake and mad as heck at me for leaving him!
The next day I called his neurologist and got an appointment for the next day. During his talking to Joe it came out that Joe had not missed just the one dose of medication...but had been taking it irregularly for a month. Sure enough, when I counted his pill, he had missed six doses that month. Now I was the one who was mad as heck. And from then on, I give the pills to him myself.
As it happened, teachers at Detroit schools went out on strike that year and school didn't start until near the end of September. Detroit offered...and Joe accepted...a job teaching history at a middle school. A job he hated. He worked two weeks and one morning wouldn't get up to go to work. I called in sick for him...every day until both his sick days and personal days were used up, at which time the school let him go.
Money became a big issue. Our savings were going down faster than I could add to it. I had to take more floor time at the office...leaving Joey with Loretta...and more evening appointments...leaving Tammy in charge. The more I worked, the more Joe was angry. I knew he was resentful that I was having to work so much. Still, he refused to get out of bed. We had to carry all his meals to him. When I left the house, I made sure his pills were counted out and put beside the bed with a glass of water. Then he had another seizure and a few days later, another one. Soon, it was several a week. I didn't know how or why, but he only had the seizures when I was home...for which I was thankful. I don't know how Tammy would have handled seeing it.
I took Joe to both our family doctor and his neurologist. The family doctor gave him a clean bill of health. The neurologist changed his medication. Still the seizures continued.
The first of December, Joe began talking about going to California to visit our Kumas. After several ...expensive...long distance calls to them, he decided to go for two weeks. I took him to the airport and kissed him goodbye....praying the vacation would help him. I talked to him everyday and to Kuma Lillian who assured me Joe was doing fine and had not had a seizure since he got there.
The day before he was due to fly home, he called...collect...and said he was staying for another week...then it was another week. The kids and I went to Indiana for Christmas...a sad one for us without Joe. Then it was New Year's ...and again, Joe had decided to stay longer. Except now, he was saying he was never coming back. Several days, several angry phone calls and a few buckets of tears...I agreed to join him...if he had a job first.
A few days later he said he had a job with an office cleaning company. Subsequently, I put our house up for sale. Then I had an indoors garage sale...selling all our furniture, keeping only essential items...kitchenware, dishes, linens, and our clothes. I cried over every piece of furniture that walked out the door.
The first of February, Joe flew home to help me drive across country. We had a station wagon and a Volkswagen. We crammed the Volks as full as it would go. We rented a car-topper for the top of the staton wagon and stuffed it full. The back of the station wagon was also loaded down.
When we were ready to leave, after tearful goodbyes to my brother and uncle, Joe's brother and uncle, with everybody in the station wagon, I told them I needed to check on something. Leaving them all in the car...I went back inside to say a final farewell to the first home I had ever owned and loved as I would never love another house.
Joe sent Tammy to get me..and she found me on the floor of my lovingly refurbished bathroom, sobbing my heart out....and joined me. A few minutes later, Buddy came looking for us...and he too was soon on the floor with us...all three of us sitting there with our arms around each other, me hugging them both to me....crying as hard as we could...and the next thing I knew, Jimmy was there crying with us. He had decided to drive by, thinking we had gone.
The trip was long and uneventful, except for me crying most of that first day.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 38
I was thirty years old when Joey was born. From the first, I was enthralled with him. Everything he did was like a small miracle. Because of the ten years between him and Buddy, it was like having a first baby all over again.
I had been taking care of babies all my life. When Jimmy was born I was five years old and one of my earliest memories is laying on the bed with him, shaking the bed, trying to get him to go to sleep. When Sue was born two years later, I learned to change diapers. By the time Margaret came along, when I was 10, I was doing everything for her except nursing her. Then came Frankie, Darvin and Dodie. With Dodie, I even fed her...she was a bottle baby. In fact, Mom had some problems and had to stay in the hospital longer Dodie. Dad brought Dodie home and handed her to me and said here she is...take care of her. From that minute on, Dodie was mine. When I was home, I did everything for her...feeding, bathing, diapers, getting her to sleep, etc. When school stated for my junior year, I was as upset over leaving her as she was over me leaving.
So, when I had Tammy and then Buddy, I expected them to do certain things at certain tim es. I was proud when Tammy started walking at eight months. I was frustrated when Buddy didn't walk until he was thirteen months. But with Joey,, everything he did felt like a minor miracle...when he rolled over, when he sat up, when he crawled...and he did not do anything especially early...he was also thirteen months old when he started walking.
He cried for the first six months of his life. He cried after a bottle. He cried when I'd put him to bed. He cried if he was left in a room alone. I cried at the doctor's office...and the doctor laughed at me. He said I needed to put Joey in bed and walk away...let him cry. I tried that...three nights in a row...I walked the floor while he cried for two solid hours before I gave in and went in and got him. Then I walked the floor with him until he quit crying...and took him to bed with me so we could both get a few hours sleep.
I was one happy camper when, at six months, his colic went away. He no longer cried after eating...but still screamed bloody murder when I'd put him in his bed. Yet, I tried every night..but eventually would give up and take him to bed with me. When he got old enough to climb out of his crib...he would just get out and get in bed with me.
I hated leaving him to go to work, but had no choice. At least the job I had allowed me to make my own hours around Joey's schedule! After the colic stopped, except for the bedtime problems, Joey was an ideal child. He was one of those children who gets punished once...and doesn't do that particular thing again. If I slapped his hand for playing with the TV...he never did itta again.
And he adored his big sister and brother. I had to yell at Tammy more than once to stop carrying him around and let him walk. Buddy loved him too...but in small doses.
One afternoon when Joey was about nine months old, I had finally got him to sleep and put him in his crib in his room upstairs. I was in the kitchen when I heard this ..thump...thump....thump...on the stairs. Running to check...I found Joey making his way down the stairs...on his bottom...one stair at a time. I didn't even know he could climb out of his crib. From then on, he did not want to be carried upstairs...he wanted to crawl up them by himself. Yet again, after the first time I yelled at him over it...he never attempted to go up or down unless one of us...me, Tammy or Buddy...were with him.
I had been taking care of babies all my life. When Jimmy was born I was five years old and one of my earliest memories is laying on the bed with him, shaking the bed, trying to get him to go to sleep. When Sue was born two years later, I learned to change diapers. By the time Margaret came along, when I was 10, I was doing everything for her except nursing her. Then came Frankie, Darvin and Dodie. With Dodie, I even fed her...she was a bottle baby. In fact, Mom had some problems and had to stay in the hospital longer Dodie. Dad brought Dodie home and handed her to me and said here she is...take care of her. From that minute on, Dodie was mine. When I was home, I did everything for her...feeding, bathing, diapers, getting her to sleep, etc. When school stated for my junior year, I was as upset over leaving her as she was over me leaving.
So, when I had Tammy and then Buddy, I expected them to do certain things at certain tim es. I was proud when Tammy started walking at eight months. I was frustrated when Buddy didn't walk until he was thirteen months. But with Joey,, everything he did felt like a minor miracle...when he rolled over, when he sat up, when he crawled...and he did not do anything especially early...he was also thirteen months old when he started walking.
He cried for the first six months of his life. He cried after a bottle. He cried when I'd put him to bed. He cried if he was left in a room alone. I cried at the doctor's office...and the doctor laughed at me. He said I needed to put Joey in bed and walk away...let him cry. I tried that...three nights in a row...I walked the floor while he cried for two solid hours before I gave in and went in and got him. Then I walked the floor with him until he quit crying...and took him to bed with me so we could both get a few hours sleep.
I was one happy camper when, at six months, his colic went away. He no longer cried after eating...but still screamed bloody murder when I'd put him in his bed. Yet, I tried every night..but eventually would give up and take him to bed with me. When he got old enough to climb out of his crib...he would just get out and get in bed with me.
I hated leaving him to go to work, but had no choice. At least the job I had allowed me to make my own hours around Joey's schedule! After the colic stopped, except for the bedtime problems, Joey was an ideal child. He was one of those children who gets punished once...and doesn't do that particular thing again. If I slapped his hand for playing with the TV...he never did itta again.
And he adored his big sister and brother. I had to yell at Tammy more than once to stop carrying him around and let him walk. Buddy loved him too...but in small doses.
One afternoon when Joey was about nine months old, I had finally got him to sleep and put him in his crib in his room upstairs. I was in the kitchen when I heard this ..thump...thump....thump...on the stairs. Running to check...I found Joey making his way down the stairs...on his bottom...one stair at a time. I didn't even know he could climb out of his crib. From then on, he did not want to be carried upstairs...he wanted to crawl up them by himself. Yet again, after the first time I yelled at him over it...he never attempted to go up or down unless one of us...me, Tammy or Buddy...were with him.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 37
A lot of our life was centered around the Serbian Church. We never missed a Sunday service unless we went to Indiana for the weekend... and both Tammy and I took Serbian lessons for a few weeks. Didn't stick to us since neither one of know any Serbian today. I joined the Women's League and attended weekly meetings.
The women's league meetings were great fun. The first half of each meeting was devoted to prayer and praise...then the food came out...and what food we had! While we ate we discussed the business part of the meeting and socialized. The women's league was responsible for cooking the dinners served in the Serbian Hall (across the parking lot from the church) every Sunday after services. We also took care of special dinners for funerals, weddings, baptisms and Holidays. We had a Christmas party every year for all the children of the church. I think one group was responsible for cleaning the church and hall...but I never got involved in that. In fact, at first they didn't let me do anything except paper work....it took a few months for the older Serbian women to accept me...a jerked over Baptist...as they kiddingly (I hope) called me.
We didn't always stay for dinner after church because at least once a month we went up to Ypsi to have dinner with Granny...at Aunt Susie's. But the dinners were spectacular...to say the least. Those old Serbian bubbas could cook. My favorite was when we had the baked chicken quarters...over Serbian rice. I also liked the serbian chicken paprikosh...a Serbian chicken and dumplings. There was always a bottomless bowl of salad on every table and an endless dessert table. Father Mijatovich and his wife, Pauline, always sat with us. Pauline and Joe's mother were best friends and they had known Joe all his life. Father and I got into some very deep discussions comparing the Serbian religion (orthodox) to the religion I was raised with. I was thrilled to know the basics were the same...only traditions were different.
I learned it was offensive to mention their services were like Catholic masses...hahah. Father was quick to inform me that they did not bow to any man...only to Christ. The Serbian church does have confessions and fasting. Before Easter and Christmas and before one gets married.
They do cross themselves at the end of a prayer...but in the opposite direction of the Catholics.
Although they have christenings, they believe everybody has to decide for themselves to be saved...to accept Christ.
They believe Christ was born of the virgin Mary and was crucified and arose after three days. They believe the only way to heaven is to accept Christ as your personal savior. They don't believe in praying to Mary or to saints. I have never met a more holy man than Father Mijatavich and have judged every preacher I've met by his standards since then.
I might mention here that Father and Pauline had a daughter a few years younger than Joe...and it had been theirs and Joe's mother's strongest wish that the two of them marry. Sadly, Kosa shared their wishes and I was amazed that her parents not only accepted me as Joe's wife...but sincerely liked me.
In April, when Joey was five months old, we had him christened. Joe and I had been Kumas for Kuma Eva's son, Nicky, when he married. Their son was two months younger than Joey...so we had them christened together. Kuma Eva catered the dinner afterwards. I'm no dummy!!!
For the Christening Joe's mother came up from Florida for a couple of weeks and stayed with us. Our Kums ...who had moved to California...came home. Their children, Pam and Paul, stood as Kums for Joey. Joe and I were Kums for Nicky's baby. The christening took place on Sunday after church. It's a very solemn ceremony where the priest (Father) asks the Kums specific questions about always being available for helping the child...not just spiritual. The Kum relationship is a very serious one...and not to be taken lightly. Although the Christening Kum takes second place to the marital Kums...who if not before, do become lifelong friends and in many ways, nosy busybodies! More about that later!
Tammy and Buddy loved Radmila (Joe's mother) and called her Bubba at her insistance. I think Bubba actually means "old woman" in Serbian...but a lot of Serbian Grandmothers are called Bubba. Radmila returned the affection..especially to Tammy. She had always wanted a daughter and took Tammy under her wing right away. We all had a good laugh at her expense, albeit behind her back...when she bought Tammy a new dress. Tammy, at 11 was very well endowed on top...and Bubba went to the womens department at Federals and bought her a dress. One more suitable for a woman's Bubba's age. I wouldn't even have worn it!
Oh...before I end this, I want to tell about the time...near Christmas...when the Women's league had our Christmas party as the Elmwood Casino in Windsor. It was just a nightclub...there were no gambling casinos back then. The Elmwood was so popular that parties were booked nearly a year in advance. The women responsible were told the entertainment would be a well-known comedian from Las Vegas.
Well....the night of the party, the entertainment was direct from Las Vegas, as promised. Just not the one originally booked. Don Rickles had cancelled and another act was substituted. A nearly nude chorus line of show girls and a comedian...I don't remember his name...with a gutter sense of humor! After his first joke about the group of church women closing their eyes and holding their hands over their ears during the opening act, most of the older women got up and left. I stayed along with all the women closer to my age...and, surprisingly, quite a few of the older women, who laughed harder than anybody else at the off-color jokes. Needless to say, the women's league kept their parties closer to home...and made sure of the entertainment after that!
The women's league meetings were great fun. The first half of each meeting was devoted to prayer and praise...then the food came out...and what food we had! While we ate we discussed the business part of the meeting and socialized. The women's league was responsible for cooking the dinners served in the Serbian Hall (across the parking lot from the church) every Sunday after services. We also took care of special dinners for funerals, weddings, baptisms and Holidays. We had a Christmas party every year for all the children of the church. I think one group was responsible for cleaning the church and hall...but I never got involved in that. In fact, at first they didn't let me do anything except paper work....it took a few months for the older Serbian women to accept me...a jerked over Baptist...as they kiddingly (I hope) called me.
We didn't always stay for dinner after church because at least once a month we went up to Ypsi to have dinner with Granny...at Aunt Susie's. But the dinners were spectacular...to say the least. Those old Serbian bubbas could cook. My favorite was when we had the baked chicken quarters...over Serbian rice. I also liked the serbian chicken paprikosh...a Serbian chicken and dumplings. There was always a bottomless bowl of salad on every table and an endless dessert table. Father Mijatovich and his wife, Pauline, always sat with us. Pauline and Joe's mother were best friends and they had known Joe all his life. Father and I got into some very deep discussions comparing the Serbian religion (orthodox) to the religion I was raised with. I was thrilled to know the basics were the same...only traditions were different.
I learned it was offensive to mention their services were like Catholic masses...hahah. Father was quick to inform me that they did not bow to any man...only to Christ. The Serbian church does have confessions and fasting. Before Easter and Christmas and before one gets married.
They do cross themselves at the end of a prayer...but in the opposite direction of the Catholics.
Although they have christenings, they believe everybody has to decide for themselves to be saved...to accept Christ.
They believe Christ was born of the virgin Mary and was crucified and arose after three days. They believe the only way to heaven is to accept Christ as your personal savior. They don't believe in praying to Mary or to saints. I have never met a more holy man than Father Mijatavich and have judged every preacher I've met by his standards since then.
I might mention here that Father and Pauline had a daughter a few years younger than Joe...and it had been theirs and Joe's mother's strongest wish that the two of them marry. Sadly, Kosa shared their wishes and I was amazed that her parents not only accepted me as Joe's wife...but sincerely liked me.
In April, when Joey was five months old, we had him christened. Joe and I had been Kumas for Kuma Eva's son, Nicky, when he married. Their son was two months younger than Joey...so we had them christened together. Kuma Eva catered the dinner afterwards. I'm no dummy!!!
For the Christening Joe's mother came up from Florida for a couple of weeks and stayed with us. Our Kums ...who had moved to California...came home. Their children, Pam and Paul, stood as Kums for Joey. Joe and I were Kums for Nicky's baby. The christening took place on Sunday after church. It's a very solemn ceremony where the priest (Father) asks the Kums specific questions about always being available for helping the child...not just spiritual. The Kum relationship is a very serious one...and not to be taken lightly. Although the Christening Kum takes second place to the marital Kums...who if not before, do become lifelong friends and in many ways, nosy busybodies! More about that later!
Tammy and Buddy loved Radmila (Joe's mother) and called her Bubba at her insistance. I think Bubba actually means "old woman" in Serbian...but a lot of Serbian Grandmothers are called Bubba. Radmila returned the affection..especially to Tammy. She had always wanted a daughter and took Tammy under her wing right away. We all had a good laugh at her expense, albeit behind her back...when she bought Tammy a new dress. Tammy, at 11 was very well endowed on top...and Bubba went to the womens department at Federals and bought her a dress. One more suitable for a woman's Bubba's age. I wouldn't even have worn it!
Oh...before I end this, I want to tell about the time...near Christmas...when the Women's league had our Christmas party as the Elmwood Casino in Windsor. It was just a nightclub...there were no gambling casinos back then. The Elmwood was so popular that parties were booked nearly a year in advance. The women responsible were told the entertainment would be a well-known comedian from Las Vegas.
Well....the night of the party, the entertainment was direct from Las Vegas, as promised. Just not the one originally booked. Don Rickles had cancelled and another act was substituted. A nearly nude chorus line of show girls and a comedian...I don't remember his name...with a gutter sense of humor! After his first joke about the group of church women closing their eyes and holding their hands over their ears during the opening act, most of the older women got up and left. I stayed along with all the women closer to my age...and, surprisingly, quite a few of the older women, who laughed harder than anybody else at the off-color jokes. Needless to say, the women's league kept their parties closer to home...and made sure of the entertainment after that!
LIFE WITH CHILDREN PART 36
I would be remiss if I didn't give credit to my brother Jimmy and his wife Loretta during this period in my life. They were always there for me. If I had an appointment during the day and Tammy was in school, I could always count on Loretta to keep Joey for me.
Jim and Loretta had two kids of their own...Jamie, born in March of 1966 and Lori Sue born in March of 1969...seven months before my Joey.
I naturally was very close to Jim and Loretta and adored their kids. Jamie was the smartest little kid I had ever known. He did everything early...walking, talking..reading. Lori Sue was the prettiest, sweetest baby ever...and she was named after me.
Jim and I had been close all our lives. Living so close together just strengthened that bond. Seldom a day went by that we didn't see each other, playing cards every Saturday night, at least. Tammy and Buddy...and later Joey...loved ther Aunt Loretta and Uncle Jim...a bond that exists to this day. Lori Sue and Joey became best friends as well as cousins.
I can't say enough good things about Loretta. She has been the perfect sister-in-law and friend. Through the years Jim and I have had our disagreements...but not me and Loretta. We've never had a cross word. In fact, I've never heard her say a bad thing about anybody. I love her like a sister.
Joe's brother, George, too was always available and willing when I needed him. Even though Tammy could take care of Joey when I couldn't be home, she was still too young to be alone with Joey and Buddy. She was 11 years old when Joey was born...Buddy was 10. George stayed with us a few months after he came home from Viet Nam. But even after he moved in with Uncle George...his Dad's single brother...he was at our house more that his own...and never complained about helping out with babysitting.
One hot June day when I was pregnant with Joey, George and I were home along...Joe had taken the kids to the baseball field with him. George decided to mow the lawn. Suddenly, from the back yard I heard this G0d-awful scream...followed by LOORRRIIIIIEEEEE!! I hurried to the back door and saw Georgie sitting on the ground. I went on out to him and all he could do was point at his foot. The toe of his shoe was mangled and blood was gushing out...well, maybe seeping...but as scared as we both were, it may as well have been gushing. I got his shoe off and ran back to the house to a towel...and grabbed my purse. I wrapped his foot in the towel and helped him hobble to the car and took him to the ER. His foot..toes mainly...were chewed up from the mower...but the doctor couldn't do anything except bandage it up and scold him for having his foot in front of the lawn mower while starting it. For the rest of his life, he's had problems with that big toe!
Jim and Loretta had two kids of their own...Jamie, born in March of 1966 and Lori Sue born in March of 1969...seven months before my Joey.
I naturally was very close to Jim and Loretta and adored their kids. Jamie was the smartest little kid I had ever known. He did everything early...walking, talking..reading. Lori Sue was the prettiest, sweetest baby ever...and she was named after me.
Jim and I had been close all our lives. Living so close together just strengthened that bond. Seldom a day went by that we didn't see each other, playing cards every Saturday night, at least. Tammy and Buddy...and later Joey...loved ther Aunt Loretta and Uncle Jim...a bond that exists to this day. Lori Sue and Joey became best friends as well as cousins.
I can't say enough good things about Loretta. She has been the perfect sister-in-law and friend. Through the years Jim and I have had our disagreements...but not me and Loretta. We've never had a cross word. In fact, I've never heard her say a bad thing about anybody. I love her like a sister.
Joe's brother, George, too was always available and willing when I needed him. Even though Tammy could take care of Joey when I couldn't be home, she was still too young to be alone with Joey and Buddy. She was 11 years old when Joey was born...Buddy was 10. George stayed with us a few months after he came home from Viet Nam. But even after he moved in with Uncle George...his Dad's single brother...he was at our house more that his own...and never complained about helping out with babysitting.
One hot June day when I was pregnant with Joey, George and I were home along...Joe had taken the kids to the baseball field with him. George decided to mow the lawn. Suddenly, from the back yard I heard this G0d-awful scream...followed by LOORRRIIIIIEEEEE!! I hurried to the back door and saw Georgie sitting on the ground. I went on out to him and all he could do was point at his foot. The toe of his shoe was mangled and blood was gushing out...well, maybe seeping...but as scared as we both were, it may as well have been gushing. I got his shoe off and ran back to the house to a towel...and grabbed my purse. I wrapped his foot in the towel and helped him hobble to the car and took him to the ER. His foot..toes mainly...were chewed up from the mower...but the doctor couldn't do anything except bandage it up and scold him for having his foot in front of the lawn mower while starting it. For the rest of his life, he's had problems with that big toe!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 35
Into every perfect life a little rain has to fall....and it built up into a huge storm in my life. It began simply enough. The schools began having racial problems. Every day Tammy and Buddy had sad tales about racial harassment...blacks to whites.
On Martin Luther King Day...still not an official holiday...Joe called me in the afternoon. He asked if I was watching TV and if not, to turn it on. He said the schools were letting out early because of rioting....and I should call Georgie to go to the school and walk home with Tammy and Buddy. As it happened, George was there...so he left right away while I watched in horror what was happening at the high school.
George came home with Buddy...couldn't find Tammy. So, leaving him and Buddy with Joey, I went looking for Tammy. I went to the school and couldn't believe my eyes. Kids were everywhere..mostly black and they were fighting each other and yelling insults at the few white parents who were looking for their kids. One mother told me that a few minutes earlier a little white boy had ventured out the school door looking for his parents and was immediately jumped on and dragged into the street by five or six black kids. He was rescued by a couple of adults. Other white kids were stranded in the school, afraid to leave. I checked, but Tammy wasn't one of them. By now the street was full of police cars. I started to walk away and one policeman...actually a black one...escorted me past the confusion.
When I got home Tammy was there. She and her friend Andrea had left right away when the trouble started and a woman across from the school called them inside her house, sent them out her back door. They cut across back yards and alleys to Andrea's house and then to ours.
Our neighborhood was an isolated white island within the city that had turned 90 percent black.
We still felt safe enough there within reason. There were severe problems at the high school and even the junior highs. Our neighbors 15 year old was attacked in the bathroom at school and six black girls cut off her hair with razor blades.
Joe and I began making plans to send the kids to Ferndale for junior high...the following year for Tammy...and pay the tuition.
In the meantime, that spring, I had transferred my real estate license to a busy office on the northwest side of Detroit. There, too, the racial problems were growing. The office instituted a policy that no woman agent could show or list homes alone after 6. We had to work with a partner. A friend at the office, Nancy, and I teamed up. Because of Joey, I couldn't work days anyway. Nancy's kids were in school so she could cover both of our floor time. And floor time was very important...that's where we got our leads and customers.
Our partnership worked out fine. Nancy and I were listing and selling at least two houses a week. Also, I got us into the neighborhood development program and we were placing five or six families a month into homes from their slum type developments.
In the evenings, when Joe wasn't home, Georgie came over and stayed with the kids. Tammy became a little second mother to Joey...bless her heart. Most evenings I was gone from six to 9 or 10 and most of the day on Saturday. Our savings account was growing plus another account Nancy and I started towards opening our own real estate office. Both of us would be eligible to take the brokers test within a year and we had big plans to open an office in Livonia together.
Then, at the end of the school year, Joe lost his job. Lincoln Park had held a special election to raise taxes to keep their athletic department going. And they lost the election. Lincoln Park was dropping all sports the following year. Since Joe was only there a year, they said they didn't have a teaching position open for him either.
He chased jobs all summer. Whenever he heard a rumor that some school was looking for a basketball coach, he checked it out. As it happened, it was a bad time financially for a lot of schools and they were dropping faculty rather than adding.
I added onto the hours I was working that summer, since mine was the only money we had coming in. Joe took it very hard. He didn't like...couldn't stand...it that I was the bread-winner. Our marriage began to suffer. I still had all the housework, cooking, etc to do plus my job. Joe would not pick up a dish to carry it into the living room. I'd get home at 9 or 10 and the house would be a mess.
I knew I was placing too much on Tammy's little shoulders, but didn't know what else to do. Even while I was yelling at her about not cleaning up after them, I felt sick and guilty inside.
One night at work, while I was with a customer, in the middle of typing up a sale, Joe called. He said the lights had gone out. I told him the fuse box was in the basement...and a box of fuses were on top of it. Ten minutes later he called back...screaming at me. Tammy and Buddy couldn't find the fuses...and God forbid that he'd go to the basement himself! It was nearly an hour later before I got home....to a dark house, a fuming husband, and crying kids. Well, I was furious myself. I went to the basement and replaced the burnt out fuse and in no uncertain terms told Joe he was useless! That he was going to have to get off his lazy bum and help me out. I couldn't do it all by myself! For all the good it did me. From then on he just called me at work more often....Joey wouldn't stop crying...Tammy wouldn't come in the house and take care of him....Tammy and Buddy were squabbling....Tammy wouldn't wash the dishes....two of three times an evening. I had to cut back my hours to three evenings a week and try to work all my appointments...as well as Nancy's...into those hours. When it was possible, I'd make appointments earlier...like at 4 or 5...often taking the kids with me to show the house, then letting Nancy write up the paperwork. Subsequently, I had to go in more during the day to process the paperwork, obtaining financing, credit reports, etc. that Nancy had been doing for us.
I took Joey with me a lot, giving Tammy some free time to be a child, herself.
Looking back, I don't know how I did it. This was much more difficult than having an 8 to 5 job with a salary. Plus, I now had a baby that needed a lot of work and attention in addition to the other two...who were growing faster than I could keep up with. I would have cried if I'd had the time!
On Martin Luther King Day...still not an official holiday...Joe called me in the afternoon. He asked if I was watching TV and if not, to turn it on. He said the schools were letting out early because of rioting....and I should call Georgie to go to the school and walk home with Tammy and Buddy. As it happened, George was there...so he left right away while I watched in horror what was happening at the high school.
George came home with Buddy...couldn't find Tammy. So, leaving him and Buddy with Joey, I went looking for Tammy. I went to the school and couldn't believe my eyes. Kids were everywhere..mostly black and they were fighting each other and yelling insults at the few white parents who were looking for their kids. One mother told me that a few minutes earlier a little white boy had ventured out the school door looking for his parents and was immediately jumped on and dragged into the street by five or six black kids. He was rescued by a couple of adults. Other white kids were stranded in the school, afraid to leave. I checked, but Tammy wasn't one of them. By now the street was full of police cars. I started to walk away and one policeman...actually a black one...escorted me past the confusion.
When I got home Tammy was there. She and her friend Andrea had left right away when the trouble started and a woman across from the school called them inside her house, sent them out her back door. They cut across back yards and alleys to Andrea's house and then to ours.
Our neighborhood was an isolated white island within the city that had turned 90 percent black.
We still felt safe enough there within reason. There were severe problems at the high school and even the junior highs. Our neighbors 15 year old was attacked in the bathroom at school and six black girls cut off her hair with razor blades.
Joe and I began making plans to send the kids to Ferndale for junior high...the following year for Tammy...and pay the tuition.
In the meantime, that spring, I had transferred my real estate license to a busy office on the northwest side of Detroit. There, too, the racial problems were growing. The office instituted a policy that no woman agent could show or list homes alone after 6. We had to work with a partner. A friend at the office, Nancy, and I teamed up. Because of Joey, I couldn't work days anyway. Nancy's kids were in school so she could cover both of our floor time. And floor time was very important...that's where we got our leads and customers.
Our partnership worked out fine. Nancy and I were listing and selling at least two houses a week. Also, I got us into the neighborhood development program and we were placing five or six families a month into homes from their slum type developments.
In the evenings, when Joe wasn't home, Georgie came over and stayed with the kids. Tammy became a little second mother to Joey...bless her heart. Most evenings I was gone from six to 9 or 10 and most of the day on Saturday. Our savings account was growing plus another account Nancy and I started towards opening our own real estate office. Both of us would be eligible to take the brokers test within a year and we had big plans to open an office in Livonia together.
Then, at the end of the school year, Joe lost his job. Lincoln Park had held a special election to raise taxes to keep their athletic department going. And they lost the election. Lincoln Park was dropping all sports the following year. Since Joe was only there a year, they said they didn't have a teaching position open for him either.
He chased jobs all summer. Whenever he heard a rumor that some school was looking for a basketball coach, he checked it out. As it happened, it was a bad time financially for a lot of schools and they were dropping faculty rather than adding.
I added onto the hours I was working that summer, since mine was the only money we had coming in. Joe took it very hard. He didn't like...couldn't stand...it that I was the bread-winner. Our marriage began to suffer. I still had all the housework, cooking, etc to do plus my job. Joe would not pick up a dish to carry it into the living room. I'd get home at 9 or 10 and the house would be a mess.
I knew I was placing too much on Tammy's little shoulders, but didn't know what else to do. Even while I was yelling at her about not cleaning up after them, I felt sick and guilty inside.
One night at work, while I was with a customer, in the middle of typing up a sale, Joe called. He said the lights had gone out. I told him the fuse box was in the basement...and a box of fuses were on top of it. Ten minutes later he called back...screaming at me. Tammy and Buddy couldn't find the fuses...and God forbid that he'd go to the basement himself! It was nearly an hour later before I got home....to a dark house, a fuming husband, and crying kids. Well, I was furious myself. I went to the basement and replaced the burnt out fuse and in no uncertain terms told Joe he was useless! That he was going to have to get off his lazy bum and help me out. I couldn't do it all by myself! For all the good it did me. From then on he just called me at work more often....Joey wouldn't stop crying...Tammy wouldn't come in the house and take care of him....Tammy and Buddy were squabbling....Tammy wouldn't wash the dishes....two of three times an evening. I had to cut back my hours to three evenings a week and try to work all my appointments...as well as Nancy's...into those hours. When it was possible, I'd make appointments earlier...like at 4 or 5...often taking the kids with me to show the house, then letting Nancy write up the paperwork. Subsequently, I had to go in more during the day to process the paperwork, obtaining financing, credit reports, etc. that Nancy had been doing for us.
I took Joey with me a lot, giving Tammy some free time to be a child, herself.
Looking back, I don't know how I did it. This was much more difficult than having an 8 to 5 job with a salary. Plus, I now had a baby that needed a lot of work and attention in addition to the other two...who were growing faster than I could keep up with. I would have cried if I'd had the time!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 34
Life was good again. Joe had taken a job as head basketball coach at Lincoln Park High School. George moved in with Uncle George. My beloved brother, his wife and two kids lived just five minutes away. Uncle Calvin and his wife, Jan, lived nearby.
Buddy joined a little league football team coached by Joe's friend. Getting him to join took a little urging. Buddy was a home boy...not really into sports. But the promise of a new bicycle at the end of the season worked! Buddy was small for his age and took a lot of hits on the football field, had a lot of bruises and threatened to quit after every practice and game. But he hung in there...and got the promised bike. He was so proud of that bike, washing and shining it every day.
Then...Tammy rode it three blocks to an ice cream parlor on Hamilton. While she was in the store, somebody stole the bike. She came out just in time to see it being rode away and gave chase, but couldn't catch it. She came stomping into the house, madder than a red hen...but nothing compared to Buddy when she told us what happened. My timid little boy came flying off the couch and tackled Tammy, both of them tumbling to the floor while he pounded on her screaming....you lost my bike....you lost my bike. I managed to get them separated. Buddy's tears broke my heart. And Tammy's too. I had promised to get a bike...now she told Buddy he could have her bike instead.
The kids were changing and I didn't like it. Where they had always been inseparable now Tammy, especially, was pulling away, making new friends and not including Buddy. Suddenly, they could not get along and I didn't know what to do. I talked to Buddy about it and said they were just growing up. It was natural for them to branch out and get new friends. I told him girls especially needed girlfriends and at their age, they thought boys, even brothers, were nuisances. I was hurting right along with Buddy. Tammy and I had always been very close and could talk about anything. She stopped confiding in me and spent a lot of time alone in her bedroom when she wasn't with her friends or on the phone with them. I realized, just as I explained to Buddy, that she was growing up. But I still didn't like it.
Joe and I eagerly awaited the birth of our baby. We discussed names endlessly, finally deciding on Joseph Franklin...after both our fathers...if the baby was a boy. If it was a girl, she would be named Polly Jo...after my granny and Joe.
The doctor was concerned about me having time to get to the hospital when I went into labor. Both Tammy and Buddy's births had been fairly fast. I was in labor with Tammy only four hours and two hours with Buddy. The hospital I would go to was on the east side of downtown. Joe and Jimmy practiced making that run several times...at different times of the day.
My pains started early on Sunday morning. I was at the hospital shortly after 8 a.m. and Joey was into hurry to be born. He didn't arrive until the next day at five p.m. after a harrowing and painful 36 hours. During that time my labor was erratic. Pains would be very hard and intense when I was up walking. Then stop completely when I lay down. They kept me walking most of the day and night. Then about one in the morning, I began bleeding. After that I had to stay in bed, even though the pains stopped. A nun stayed with me the entire night and all the next day. She said that the doctor ordered I not be left alone.
On Monday my doctor examined me and said I was dilating satisfactorily but the baby had not moved into position. He broke my water, hoping that would hurry things alone. But, no...nothing happened. Then after noon he began an IV to hasten things. All that did was keep me in constant pain. During that time Mom came to see me. She had taken a bus up to stay with Joe and the kids while I was in the hospital. Everything was a big haze to me and I barely remember her being there.
Thankfully, after three hours of torture, the doctor stopped the IV. And all my pains stopped.
I knew something was seriously wrong, but was too tired to care. Then I overheard my doctor talking to another doctor. He said I couldn't take anymore and was in serious danger even though the baby still seemed strong...but that could change any minute. He asked where my husband was and the nurse said they had called the school and left a message for him to come to the hospital as soon as possible. Sometime later, I don't know how long, I again overheard the doctor saying to someone that he needed an operating room immediately for an emergency caesarian.
Suddenly my room was a hive of activity with several nurses, including my precious nun, doing whatever they did. Then a gurney was brought in. I was too weak to scoot from the bed to the gurney, so nurses got at my feet and my head...saying they would help if I could just scoot my bottom. Well.............In the middle....stuck in the space between the bed and gurney...I was hit with a massive bearing down pain! My doctor was in the room also. When I started grunting and told him about the pain...he screamed Halleleujah! The nurses and my num grinned and clapped. Next thing I knew they were running with me to the delivery room while yelling at me not to push....breathe...breathe...don't push!
Everything went fast after that. In the delivery room I got a shot in the spine...spinal block. But it didn't work. I ended up having a natural birth. And I bet, when the baby came out...the scream that released him was heard all over the hospital! Then came the sewing up....with no anesthetic...enough said! Fifteen minutes after the initial bearing down pain in my room, I had a beautiful, seven pound eleven ounce boy! Joey was born nearly on the dot of five p.m.
Joe finally showed up at 7:30....after basketball practice. He was thrilled, to say the least, to have a fine, beautiful, healthy baby boy. When I asked him why he had not come that afternoon when the hospital called, he said the message he got was that "everything's going good...come to the hospital when you can." so he didn't realize there had been a medical emergency.
Then Joe told me his cousin's husband...with whom we were very friendly...had died of a heart attact that afternoon. He was on his way to the bank from the bar he owned, pulled off to the side of the expressway and died. Subsequently, Joey and I had a lot of visitors the next three days as relative's on Joe's side of the family came for the funeral from all over the country...and came to the hospital to see his baby...and, in most cases, meet his wife.
Joey and I stayed in the hospital all week. I was on complete bed rest because of the effects from the anesthetic that hadn't worked. Every time I raised my head off the pillow I got a blinding headache! To this day I'm convinced that's why I have so much pain in my back.
Finally...on Saturday Joe picked us up and took us home. To a full house. Besides Mom and the kids, the welcoming party included Jim, Loretta and their two kids, Uncle Calvin and Jan, Uncle George and Georgie. Joey was sufficiently oohed and ahhed over...Uncle Calvin remarked he had the big Shepherd feet...Uncle George said he had the Wussles good looks.
Before going to the hospital I had fixed up a pretty bassinet to use downstairs...but, this had been broken while I was in the hospital...with Tammy and Buddy each blaming the other. Also, Mom said my washing machine had stopped working.
After everybody had gone home, Mom stayed with the kids while Joe and I went to Sears where we bought a portable crib and ordered a new washing machine to be delivered on Monday.
When we got back to the house, Dad was there. Mary Sue and Leo had driven him up to get mom...who was planning to stay another week until I was able to drive her home. But Dad said one week without her...actually just five days...was enough!
As it was, I had plenty of help from Tammy and Buddy when they weren't in school. Tammy more so than Buddy. Immediately, Tammy fell in love with her little brother and claimed he was her baby. Within a couple of days she was as efficient as I was changing diapers, feeding and burping. She would have slept with him had I let her! Buddy equally loved him and would hold him and even give him a bottle...but, like Joe, would have no part of changing a diaper!
Joey was not an easy baby. He cried...and cried...and cried...everytime he was laid down. He cried even when I walked the floor with him at night. The only sleep I got for six months, was with him laying on my chest...then never more than a couple hours at a time. It was one happy day when I realized he had not had a colic attack in over twelve hours! I never could get that baby to sleep in his own bed, though. He would only sleep when he was in bed with me...and later on, with Tammy.
Buddy joined a little league football team coached by Joe's friend. Getting him to join took a little urging. Buddy was a home boy...not really into sports. But the promise of a new bicycle at the end of the season worked! Buddy was small for his age and took a lot of hits on the football field, had a lot of bruises and threatened to quit after every practice and game. But he hung in there...and got the promised bike. He was so proud of that bike, washing and shining it every day.
Then...Tammy rode it three blocks to an ice cream parlor on Hamilton. While she was in the store, somebody stole the bike. She came out just in time to see it being rode away and gave chase, but couldn't catch it. She came stomping into the house, madder than a red hen...but nothing compared to Buddy when she told us what happened. My timid little boy came flying off the couch and tackled Tammy, both of them tumbling to the floor while he pounded on her screaming....you lost my bike....you lost my bike. I managed to get them separated. Buddy's tears broke my heart. And Tammy's too. I had promised to get a bike...now she told Buddy he could have her bike instead.
The kids were changing and I didn't like it. Where they had always been inseparable now Tammy, especially, was pulling away, making new friends and not including Buddy. Suddenly, they could not get along and I didn't know what to do. I talked to Buddy about it and said they were just growing up. It was natural for them to branch out and get new friends. I told him girls especially needed girlfriends and at their age, they thought boys, even brothers, were nuisances. I was hurting right along with Buddy. Tammy and I had always been very close and could talk about anything. She stopped confiding in me and spent a lot of time alone in her bedroom when she wasn't with her friends or on the phone with them. I realized, just as I explained to Buddy, that she was growing up. But I still didn't like it.
Joe and I eagerly awaited the birth of our baby. We discussed names endlessly, finally deciding on Joseph Franklin...after both our fathers...if the baby was a boy. If it was a girl, she would be named Polly Jo...after my granny and Joe.
The doctor was concerned about me having time to get to the hospital when I went into labor. Both Tammy and Buddy's births had been fairly fast. I was in labor with Tammy only four hours and two hours with Buddy. The hospital I would go to was on the east side of downtown. Joe and Jimmy practiced making that run several times...at different times of the day.
My pains started early on Sunday morning. I was at the hospital shortly after 8 a.m. and Joey was into hurry to be born. He didn't arrive until the next day at five p.m. after a harrowing and painful 36 hours. During that time my labor was erratic. Pains would be very hard and intense when I was up walking. Then stop completely when I lay down. They kept me walking most of the day and night. Then about one in the morning, I began bleeding. After that I had to stay in bed, even though the pains stopped. A nun stayed with me the entire night and all the next day. She said that the doctor ordered I not be left alone.
On Monday my doctor examined me and said I was dilating satisfactorily but the baby had not moved into position. He broke my water, hoping that would hurry things alone. But, no...nothing happened. Then after noon he began an IV to hasten things. All that did was keep me in constant pain. During that time Mom came to see me. She had taken a bus up to stay with Joe and the kids while I was in the hospital. Everything was a big haze to me and I barely remember her being there.
Thankfully, after three hours of torture, the doctor stopped the IV. And all my pains stopped.
I knew something was seriously wrong, but was too tired to care. Then I overheard my doctor talking to another doctor. He said I couldn't take anymore and was in serious danger even though the baby still seemed strong...but that could change any minute. He asked where my husband was and the nurse said they had called the school and left a message for him to come to the hospital as soon as possible. Sometime later, I don't know how long, I again overheard the doctor saying to someone that he needed an operating room immediately for an emergency caesarian.
Suddenly my room was a hive of activity with several nurses, including my precious nun, doing whatever they did. Then a gurney was brought in. I was too weak to scoot from the bed to the gurney, so nurses got at my feet and my head...saying they would help if I could just scoot my bottom. Well.............In the middle....stuck in the space between the bed and gurney...I was hit with a massive bearing down pain! My doctor was in the room also. When I started grunting and told him about the pain...he screamed Halleleujah! The nurses and my num grinned and clapped. Next thing I knew they were running with me to the delivery room while yelling at me not to push....breathe...breathe...don't push!
Everything went fast after that. In the delivery room I got a shot in the spine...spinal block. But it didn't work. I ended up having a natural birth. And I bet, when the baby came out...the scream that released him was heard all over the hospital! Then came the sewing up....with no anesthetic...enough said! Fifteen minutes after the initial bearing down pain in my room, I had a beautiful, seven pound eleven ounce boy! Joey was born nearly on the dot of five p.m.
Joe finally showed up at 7:30....after basketball practice. He was thrilled, to say the least, to have a fine, beautiful, healthy baby boy. When I asked him why he had not come that afternoon when the hospital called, he said the message he got was that "everything's going good...come to the hospital when you can." so he didn't realize there had been a medical emergency.
Then Joe told me his cousin's husband...with whom we were very friendly...had died of a heart attact that afternoon. He was on his way to the bank from the bar he owned, pulled off to the side of the expressway and died. Subsequently, Joey and I had a lot of visitors the next three days as relative's on Joe's side of the family came for the funeral from all over the country...and came to the hospital to see his baby...and, in most cases, meet his wife.
Joey and I stayed in the hospital all week. I was on complete bed rest because of the effects from the anesthetic that hadn't worked. Every time I raised my head off the pillow I got a blinding headache! To this day I'm convinced that's why I have so much pain in my back.
Finally...on Saturday Joe picked us up and took us home. To a full house. Besides Mom and the kids, the welcoming party included Jim, Loretta and their two kids, Uncle Calvin and Jan, Uncle George and Georgie. Joey was sufficiently oohed and ahhed over...Uncle Calvin remarked he had the big Shepherd feet...Uncle George said he had the Wussles good looks.
Before going to the hospital I had fixed up a pretty bassinet to use downstairs...but, this had been broken while I was in the hospital...with Tammy and Buddy each blaming the other. Also, Mom said my washing machine had stopped working.
After everybody had gone home, Mom stayed with the kids while Joe and I went to Sears where we bought a portable crib and ordered a new washing machine to be delivered on Monday.
When we got back to the house, Dad was there. Mary Sue and Leo had driven him up to get mom...who was planning to stay another week until I was able to drive her home. But Dad said one week without her...actually just five days...was enough!
As it was, I had plenty of help from Tammy and Buddy when they weren't in school. Tammy more so than Buddy. Immediately, Tammy fell in love with her little brother and claimed he was her baby. Within a couple of days she was as efficient as I was changing diapers, feeding and burping. She would have slept with him had I let her! Buddy equally loved him and would hold him and even give him a bottle...but, like Joe, would have no part of changing a diaper!
Joey was not an easy baby. He cried...and cried...and cried...everytime he was laid down. He cried even when I walked the floor with him at night. The only sleep I got for six months, was with him laying on my chest...then never more than a couple hours at a time. It was one happy day when I realized he had not had a colic attack in over twelve hours! I never could get that baby to sleep in his own bed, though. He would only sleep when he was in bed with me...and later on, with Tammy.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 33
The first weekend in Feb. we made a trip to Indiana to celebrate Mom and Dad's anniversary. On Friday night, we stayed with my brother Jim and his wife, Loretta. Saturday morning, as soon as I got out of bed I felt very sick and had to rush to the bathroom to vomit. Sitting at the table with Loretta drinking coffee, the nausea hit me again and I ran to the bathroom. Coming back to the table, I said I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me. Then, when it happened a third time, I started thinking.....and counting.
I went into the bedroom where Joe was still sleeping and jumped on top of him, waking him up rudely. And excitedly told him my period was late. Being a man, he just said sorry...and rolled over to go back to sleep. And I pushed him off the bed! I was laughing so hard I was crying...Honey, I said....my period has only been late three times in my life...and I was pregnant all three times. (When Buddy was eight months old, I had a miscarriage. I was five months along.)
Finally, it sunk into Joe....and he grabbed me and we rolled around on the floor, both of us laughing. By then, the bedroom was crowded. Jim, Loretta, Tammy and Buddy had rushed in to see what the racket was. Joe and I, talking at the same time, said...we're having a baby!
Although I knew I was pregnant, I still called the doctor on Monday and went in the same day for a pregnancy test. It took three days for the rabbit to die...but the doctor called and said the results were positive. I called Joe at the school...and by the end of the day the whole school knew he was going to be a father.
Everything went along fine. When school was out, Joe started coaching sandlot baseball. I got a job as scorekeeper. We were at the baseball field every day either for his job or mine. When they were in town, a lot of the Detroit Tigers baseball team hung out at the field. Joe had coached some of them...Willie Horton to name one....when they played sandlot ball, and he was friends with nearly all the players on the team. It was a thrill for me and the kids to get to know them. Buddy was in heaven because the guys were especially nice to him, making a point of sitting with him to watch the game.
I should mention here that the Tigers won the world series in 1968. The kids and I had actually met most of them the summer of 1968 when we'd go to Detroit on weekends to watch Joe's games..he was coaching sandlot then, too. Naturally, we were all huge Tigers fans, so when they won, we along with the entire city, celebrated. We went up to Woodward Avenue to watch the team parade by...and it was chaos. I lost sight of the kids in the crowd and panicked when I couldn't find them. After looking for them for over an hour, I went home...and they were there! Little monsters!
Then in July, I began having cramps. The doctor told me to go to bed and stay there. After two weeks, the doctor said I had an infection in my uturus and was in dire danger of losing the baby as well as my life. And said I was only to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Another two weeks went by with no improvement. In tears, I called George's Kuma Eva...the one who had put on our wedding reception...and she said to hang up, she was going to find another doctor for me. And she did. She made an appointment for me with an OB/GYN in downtown Detroit for the very next day.
Joe took the day off and went to the doctor with me. He, the doctor, was amazing. He put me on a couple antibiotics, made another appointment for the following week and sent me home to bed again. The next week, he told me I didn't have to stay in bed all the time, now..but to sit around and let people wait on me. Two weeks later, he said I was home free. No infection. Normal, healthy pregnancy! All I could do was sit there and cry. Joe's eyes were suspiciously damp,too. There were not two happier people in Detroit that day. We stopped on the way home and bought bags of hamburgers from our favorite restaurant...The Red Barn....and went home to celebrate with our family.
By then, Joe's brother, George, was home from Vietnam and living with us. Jim and Loretta had moved just a few blocks away. Uncle George lived nearby. When we got home, I called them all...even Kuma Eva...and we had a party!
I went into the bedroom where Joe was still sleeping and jumped on top of him, waking him up rudely. And excitedly told him my period was late. Being a man, he just said sorry...and rolled over to go back to sleep. And I pushed him off the bed! I was laughing so hard I was crying...Honey, I said....my period has only been late three times in my life...and I was pregnant all three times. (When Buddy was eight months old, I had a miscarriage. I was five months along.)
Finally, it sunk into Joe....and he grabbed me and we rolled around on the floor, both of us laughing. By then, the bedroom was crowded. Jim, Loretta, Tammy and Buddy had rushed in to see what the racket was. Joe and I, talking at the same time, said...we're having a baby!
Although I knew I was pregnant, I still called the doctor on Monday and went in the same day for a pregnancy test. It took three days for the rabbit to die...but the doctor called and said the results were positive. I called Joe at the school...and by the end of the day the whole school knew he was going to be a father.
Everything went along fine. When school was out, Joe started coaching sandlot baseball. I got a job as scorekeeper. We were at the baseball field every day either for his job or mine. When they were in town, a lot of the Detroit Tigers baseball team hung out at the field. Joe had coached some of them...Willie Horton to name one....when they played sandlot ball, and he was friends with nearly all the players on the team. It was a thrill for me and the kids to get to know them. Buddy was in heaven because the guys were especially nice to him, making a point of sitting with him to watch the game.
I should mention here that the Tigers won the world series in 1968. The kids and I had actually met most of them the summer of 1968 when we'd go to Detroit on weekends to watch Joe's games..he was coaching sandlot then, too. Naturally, we were all huge Tigers fans, so when they won, we along with the entire city, celebrated. We went up to Woodward Avenue to watch the team parade by...and it was chaos. I lost sight of the kids in the crowd and panicked when I couldn't find them. After looking for them for over an hour, I went home...and they were there! Little monsters!
Then in July, I began having cramps. The doctor told me to go to bed and stay there. After two weeks, the doctor said I had an infection in my uturus and was in dire danger of losing the baby as well as my life. And said I was only to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Another two weeks went by with no improvement. In tears, I called George's Kuma Eva...the one who had put on our wedding reception...and she said to hang up, she was going to find another doctor for me. And she did. She made an appointment for me with an OB/GYN in downtown Detroit for the very next day.
Joe took the day off and went to the doctor with me. He, the doctor, was amazing. He put me on a couple antibiotics, made another appointment for the following week and sent me home to bed again. The next week, he told me I didn't have to stay in bed all the time, now..but to sit around and let people wait on me. Two weeks later, he said I was home free. No infection. Normal, healthy pregnancy! All I could do was sit there and cry. Joe's eyes were suspiciously damp,too. There were not two happier people in Detroit that day. We stopped on the way home and bought bags of hamburgers from our favorite restaurant...The Red Barn....and went home to celebrate with our family.
By then, Joe's brother, George, was home from Vietnam and living with us. Jim and Loretta had moved just a few blocks away. Uncle George lived nearby. When we got home, I called them all...even Kuma Eva...and we had a party!
Monday, September 7, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 32
Joe and I had a wonderful honeymoon. On the way to Florida, we stopped in Prestonsburg, KY and he met my relatives there.
Our next stop was his cousin, Florence, in Tampa. We were supposed to go on to his mother's after a short stop, but wound up staying all night. Then we stayed two nights with Joe's mom and her sister. Went deep-sea fishing where I got so burned I got sun poison. Spent a day with his very rich cousin in Venice, went swimming in the Gulf. Our last night there, we had dinner at a wonderful restaurant called the ...oops...not sure of the name...but all his Florida relatives were there with lovely gifts of MONEY!
From Tampa, we headed up the East Coast for a couple of days with Joe's Aunt in Pittsburgh. While there, his cousins took us to a healing service by Kathryn Kuhlman...then the very next day, to a wiccan fortune teller.
From there, we drove to Indiana where we stayed overnight. The next day we left, with Tammy and Buddy and my baby sister, Dodie.
The day after we got home, we signed papers for our new home in Highland Park. Since it was vacant, we immediately commenced moving in. Because I had to return to work, Uncle Calvin and his wife, Jan, moved all my stuff from the little country house.
The first Saturday night in the new house, Tammy, Buddy and Dodie came running in and said they saw a guy get shot! Wow! Scared me...made me wonder what kind of neighborhood Joe had moved us into! There was a motel on the corner of Louise (our street) and Woodward...just one block from us. They saw the desk clerk get shot...but so did several other people so the police didn't need to talk to them, Thank God!
We soon settled in our new home and loved it. The house was huge. Downstairs had living room, dining room, den, kitchen and breakfast room. Upstairs were four big bedrooms and a bathrom just as big. The third floor was unfinished except for a solid wood floor. The basement was divided into several rooms...big central room with the furnace..laundry room with a free-standing, raised, open toilet. A coal room that we used to store newspapers for recycling. And a storage room with shelves on the walls for canned goods, etc.
The floors, downstairs and up, were beautifully refinished hardwood. It had beautiful, original woodwork around the doors and the arch between the living room and dining room. Joe and I spent our wedding gift money buying new furniture and carpeting for the living and dining rooms.
Labor Day weekend, Mom and Dad came up and got Dodie. School started the next day. It didn't take the kids long to make friends and soon Andrea and Ruthie were running in and out almost as much as Tammy and Buddy. The kids liked school, even though for the first time, there were a minority. There were still white families living in our immediate area...in fact, no black families lived within several blocks of us.
Joe and I had talked about having another baby or two. I had stopped birth control pills when he left us, so hoped I would get pregnant right away. When several months passed, I became concerned and went to our new family doctor who told me it was not uncommon, after a couple years on birth control pills, to have problems conceiving. I had quit work because the trip from Highland Park to Ypsilanti, with traffice on I-94, was a nightmare. So...I decided to get a real estate license. I got the license in November and went to work part-time for a small realtor in Ferndale. I was there several months and didn't make a sale. The office was too small and just didn't generate much business.
In January, Avanelle's son, Gary Dale, was killed in a freakish accident. He was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for a train to pass when he was sucked up against the train and thrown across the street. Mom and Dad came up and stayed with us for the funeral. We gave them our bedroom and Joe and I slept in the den, on a single bed. And Joey was conceived! It was easy for me to pinpoint the exact date he was conceived, because Joe was involved in coaching basketball...and our love life was non-existent the whole month of January except for that one event.
Our next stop was his cousin, Florence, in Tampa. We were supposed to go on to his mother's after a short stop, but wound up staying all night. Then we stayed two nights with Joe's mom and her sister. Went deep-sea fishing where I got so burned I got sun poison. Spent a day with his very rich cousin in Venice, went swimming in the Gulf. Our last night there, we had dinner at a wonderful restaurant called the ...oops...not sure of the name...but all his Florida relatives were there with lovely gifts of MONEY!
From Tampa, we headed up the East Coast for a couple of days with Joe's Aunt in Pittsburgh. While there, his cousins took us to a healing service by Kathryn Kuhlman...then the very next day, to a wiccan fortune teller.
From there, we drove to Indiana where we stayed overnight. The next day we left, with Tammy and Buddy and my baby sister, Dodie.
The day after we got home, we signed papers for our new home in Highland Park. Since it was vacant, we immediately commenced moving in. Because I had to return to work, Uncle Calvin and his wife, Jan, moved all my stuff from the little country house.
The first Saturday night in the new house, Tammy, Buddy and Dodie came running in and said they saw a guy get shot! Wow! Scared me...made me wonder what kind of neighborhood Joe had moved us into! There was a motel on the corner of Louise (our street) and Woodward...just one block from us. They saw the desk clerk get shot...but so did several other people so the police didn't need to talk to them, Thank God!
We soon settled in our new home and loved it. The house was huge. Downstairs had living room, dining room, den, kitchen and breakfast room. Upstairs were four big bedrooms and a bathrom just as big. The third floor was unfinished except for a solid wood floor. The basement was divided into several rooms...big central room with the furnace..laundry room with a free-standing, raised, open toilet. A coal room that we used to store newspapers for recycling. And a storage room with shelves on the walls for canned goods, etc.
The floors, downstairs and up, were beautifully refinished hardwood. It had beautiful, original woodwork around the doors and the arch between the living room and dining room. Joe and I spent our wedding gift money buying new furniture and carpeting for the living and dining rooms.
Labor Day weekend, Mom and Dad came up and got Dodie. School started the next day. It didn't take the kids long to make friends and soon Andrea and Ruthie were running in and out almost as much as Tammy and Buddy. The kids liked school, even though for the first time, there were a minority. There were still white families living in our immediate area...in fact, no black families lived within several blocks of us.
Joe and I had talked about having another baby or two. I had stopped birth control pills when he left us, so hoped I would get pregnant right away. When several months passed, I became concerned and went to our new family doctor who told me it was not uncommon, after a couple years on birth control pills, to have problems conceiving. I had quit work because the trip from Highland Park to Ypsilanti, with traffice on I-94, was a nightmare. So...I decided to get a real estate license. I got the license in November and went to work part-time for a small realtor in Ferndale. I was there several months and didn't make a sale. The office was too small and just didn't generate much business.
In January, Avanelle's son, Gary Dale, was killed in a freakish accident. He was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for a train to pass when he was sucked up against the train and thrown across the street. Mom and Dad came up and stayed with us for the funeral. We gave them our bedroom and Joe and I slept in the den, on a single bed. And Joey was conceived! It was easy for me to pinpoint the exact date he was conceived, because Joe was involved in coaching basketball...and our love life was non-existent the whole month of January except for that one event.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 31
Okay, I kinda omitted details about the wedding and preparations. So, here goes.
With only six weeks to prepare, I was frantic. Joe and I decided to forego invitations, opting to send out announcements after the event. We decided to only invite family and very close friends. As mentioned before, my family were no-shows other than one uncle and his wife. Same with friends...only Al and Marion Kliemann attended. Joe's family and friends made up for it though. And I was so sick, I didn't even want to be there.
Three weeks before the wedding, the kids and I went dress shopping at Hudson's in downtown Detroit. Between us, Joe and I had decided I could pay up to $50 for a dress...which was a lot of money back in 1968. I found the perfect dress in Hudson's third floor...and only $38.00! It was a knee-length, sky blue chiffon that floated around me when I moved. I also found a perfectly matching length of blue mesh that I attached to a floral tiara for a headpiece and a pair of white cloth covered high-heel shoes that I dyed a matching blue. Another chore marked off my to-do list!
After a few instruction classes in the Serbian Church, the kids and I were ready to be baptized.
Two weeks before the wedding, we met Kum Walter and his wife Lillian at the Serbian Church.
The ceremony was short. Father Mijatovich said a short sermon, asked if we had fasted and heard our confessions. Then, with Kum and Kuma stood with me at the baptismal fount while Father liberally doused my head with water. Then it was Tammy's turn. Kum and Kuma's daughter, Pam, stood with Tammy as her Kuma, while she was similarly baptized. Then their son, Paul, stood with Buddy as his Kum. Father really dumped the water on him...saying afterwards he went easy on us girls because of our hair-do's...but Buddy got the works! It was a very solemn, beautiful and heart-warming ceremony.
Afterwards, Kum took us all out to dinner at a fine Italian restaurant and the kids, theirs and mine, felt very grown-up as they ordered their first Shirley Temples, while the adults had a bottle of fine wine...with which Kums toasted our conversion to the Serbian Orthodox Church. More about the Serbian Church in a later post.
Somehow, during those busy six weeks, Marion Kliemann found time to have a personal bridal shower for me. The women in the office as well as the wives of my male co-workers gave me boxes and boxes of lovely sexy lingerie.
After I went back to work after the wedding, Al Kliemann had a dinner-party for the whole office and their guests, as well as many realtors and office workers from other real estate offices, with whom I had worked and become friends with over the years, at a restaurant in Ann Arbor celebrating our wedding. We got many lovely wedding presents...including a solid silver tea service and an original oil painting and several hundred dollars in cash. I must add, I was so moved by all the love my friends lavished on me, I was in tears the whole evening!
A Serbian wedding is a beautiful ceremony. I just wish I hadn't been so sick. It wasn't until I attended another wedding, a few months later, as a Kuma to the daughter of another family friend, that I really understood what a lovely, solemn ceremony it truly is. It began with just Joe and me and the priest, Father Mijatovich, at the "high altar"...where we swore our vows to each other. Then the ceremony continued at the "low altar" with Kum Walter and Kuma Lillian attending us. Mine and Joe's hands were lightly tied together with a while handkerchief. The four of us walked around this table three times while the cantor chanted and spread incense.
Kum and Kuma, for their part, had to vow to help us with our religious growth in the Church.
The incense made me feel faint...and I was scared to death that I was going to pass out. Father thought so, too...and skipped or hurried through the last part of the ceremony. He introduced us to the guests as Mr and Mrs Joe Wussles...and added "somebody help him carry her out of here!"
Because I was so sick, we went back to the apartment so I could lie down for a bit. We ended up being nearly two hours late to our own wedding reception. Of course, there was a lot of catcalls and ribald teasing about us being too "eager" to wait until after the reception!
I was too sick to eat anything..but was told the buffet was terrific. I did take part in cutting the wedding cake and ate a small peice of that. Mostly, I sat at our table and let people come up and talk to me. Towards the end, I did dance with Joe. Afterwards, we stopped at the bar to speak to his Uncle George. Uncle George picked me up in a big bear hug, swung me around, and bellowed for everybody there to hear..."You belong to us, now!" It was a perfect ending for a day that would have been perfect...had I not been so sick.
With only six weeks to prepare, I was frantic. Joe and I decided to forego invitations, opting to send out announcements after the event. We decided to only invite family and very close friends. As mentioned before, my family were no-shows other than one uncle and his wife. Same with friends...only Al and Marion Kliemann attended. Joe's family and friends made up for it though. And I was so sick, I didn't even want to be there.
Three weeks before the wedding, the kids and I went dress shopping at Hudson's in downtown Detroit. Between us, Joe and I had decided I could pay up to $50 for a dress...which was a lot of money back in 1968. I found the perfect dress in Hudson's third floor...and only $38.00! It was a knee-length, sky blue chiffon that floated around me when I moved. I also found a perfectly matching length of blue mesh that I attached to a floral tiara for a headpiece and a pair of white cloth covered high-heel shoes that I dyed a matching blue. Another chore marked off my to-do list!
After a few instruction classes in the Serbian Church, the kids and I were ready to be baptized.
Two weeks before the wedding, we met Kum Walter and his wife Lillian at the Serbian Church.
The ceremony was short. Father Mijatovich said a short sermon, asked if we had fasted and heard our confessions. Then, with Kum and Kuma stood with me at the baptismal fount while Father liberally doused my head with water. Then it was Tammy's turn. Kum and Kuma's daughter, Pam, stood with Tammy as her Kuma, while she was similarly baptized. Then their son, Paul, stood with Buddy as his Kum. Father really dumped the water on him...saying afterwards he went easy on us girls because of our hair-do's...but Buddy got the works! It was a very solemn, beautiful and heart-warming ceremony.
Afterwards, Kum took us all out to dinner at a fine Italian restaurant and the kids, theirs and mine, felt very grown-up as they ordered their first Shirley Temples, while the adults had a bottle of fine wine...with which Kums toasted our conversion to the Serbian Orthodox Church. More about the Serbian Church in a later post.
Somehow, during those busy six weeks, Marion Kliemann found time to have a personal bridal shower for me. The women in the office as well as the wives of my male co-workers gave me boxes and boxes of lovely sexy lingerie.
After I went back to work after the wedding, Al Kliemann had a dinner-party for the whole office and their guests, as well as many realtors and office workers from other real estate offices, with whom I had worked and become friends with over the years, at a restaurant in Ann Arbor celebrating our wedding. We got many lovely wedding presents...including a solid silver tea service and an original oil painting and several hundred dollars in cash. I must add, I was so moved by all the love my friends lavished on me, I was in tears the whole evening!
A Serbian wedding is a beautiful ceremony. I just wish I hadn't been so sick. It wasn't until I attended another wedding, a few months later, as a Kuma to the daughter of another family friend, that I really understood what a lovely, solemn ceremony it truly is. It began with just Joe and me and the priest, Father Mijatovich, at the "high altar"...where we swore our vows to each other. Then the ceremony continued at the "low altar" with Kum Walter and Kuma Lillian attending us. Mine and Joe's hands were lightly tied together with a while handkerchief. The four of us walked around this table three times while the cantor chanted and spread incense.
Kum and Kuma, for their part, had to vow to help us with our religious growth in the Church.
The incense made me feel faint...and I was scared to death that I was going to pass out. Father thought so, too...and skipped or hurried through the last part of the ceremony. He introduced us to the guests as Mr and Mrs Joe Wussles...and added "somebody help him carry her out of here!"
Because I was so sick, we went back to the apartment so I could lie down for a bit. We ended up being nearly two hours late to our own wedding reception. Of course, there was a lot of catcalls and ribald teasing about us being too "eager" to wait until after the reception!
I was too sick to eat anything..but was told the buffet was terrific. I did take part in cutting the wedding cake and ate a small peice of that. Mostly, I sat at our table and let people come up and talk to me. Towards the end, I did dance with Joe. Afterwards, we stopped at the bar to speak to his Uncle George. Uncle George picked me up in a big bear hug, swung me around, and bellowed for everybody there to hear..."You belong to us, now!" It was a perfect ending for a day that would have been perfect...had I not been so sick.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 30
Once Joe makes up his mind to do something...he wants it done right away. Before I knew it, we had made an offer on a house in Highland Park...and made all the wedding arrangements for July 11.
In the meantime, the kids and I were spending a lot of time driving back and forth from Ypsilanti to Highland Park. Joe was teaching and coaching junior high school. He got lucky and stepped into a position vacated suddenly by another teacher. In the spring, he also coached sandlot baseball.
Joe wanted to be married in the Serbian church. Tammy, Buddy and I had to take a couple of classes in the religion and be baptized. One Sunday afternoon Joe took us to visit his Kumas...Serbian Godparents. We...they and I, liked each other right away. Therefore, it was okay with me when Joe wanted them to be our Kumas at our wedding...same as best man and bridesmaid. Also, they were Kumas to the kids and me when we were baptized.
It's not easy to plan a wedding in six weeks. It can be done and is a lot of work...but I did it.
The only real blight on my wedding ...well, the first one anyway...is that Tammy and Buddy could not be there. Mom and Dad came to Ypsi and got them over the Fourth...as always. I campaigned my best to be allowed to take them with us to Florida on our honeymoon...but Joe refused. He wanted that time for just us. And we were going to be staying with his relatives.
On the day of our wedding I was sicker than a dog! I woke up that morning with a 102 temperature! I went to Kuma's and spent the day, getting dressed for the wedding there. Kuma Lillian doped me up with cold medicine. My wedding is a blurred memory, what with the fever and meds. Our reception was held at a bowling alley owned by friends of Joe's family. They put on a great buffet at no charge to us. My family was represented only by my Uncle Calvin and his wife, Janet. My boss, Al Klieman and his wife Marion were my only friends there. Joe's family came out in force. There must have been 50 or more that I met for the first time. And never remembered any of them!
Instead of leaving on our honeymoon that night as we had planned, since I was so sick we went back to Joe's apartment for the night. I laid in his arms and cried that night because my kids were not at my wedding. So, the next morning when we were all packed and in the car for the trip to Florida, Joe said we were going to Indiana first! I was glad we were going to see my kids...but still tried to talk him into taking them to Florida with us...but with no success. We got to Mom's about noon and stayed a few hours before leaving for Florida. The first thing Tammy said to Joe was, "Can I call you Daddy, now?" Joe just beamed! and said he would be proud for her and Buddy to call him Daddy....and from that moment on, they did.
In the meantime, the kids and I were spending a lot of time driving back and forth from Ypsilanti to Highland Park. Joe was teaching and coaching junior high school. He got lucky and stepped into a position vacated suddenly by another teacher. In the spring, he also coached sandlot baseball.
Joe wanted to be married in the Serbian church. Tammy, Buddy and I had to take a couple of classes in the religion and be baptized. One Sunday afternoon Joe took us to visit his Kumas...Serbian Godparents. We...they and I, liked each other right away. Therefore, it was okay with me when Joe wanted them to be our Kumas at our wedding...same as best man and bridesmaid. Also, they were Kumas to the kids and me when we were baptized.
It's not easy to plan a wedding in six weeks. It can be done and is a lot of work...but I did it.
The only real blight on my wedding ...well, the first one anyway...is that Tammy and Buddy could not be there. Mom and Dad came to Ypsi and got them over the Fourth...as always. I campaigned my best to be allowed to take them with us to Florida on our honeymoon...but Joe refused. He wanted that time for just us. And we were going to be staying with his relatives.
On the day of our wedding I was sicker than a dog! I woke up that morning with a 102 temperature! I went to Kuma's and spent the day, getting dressed for the wedding there. Kuma Lillian doped me up with cold medicine. My wedding is a blurred memory, what with the fever and meds. Our reception was held at a bowling alley owned by friends of Joe's family. They put on a great buffet at no charge to us. My family was represented only by my Uncle Calvin and his wife, Janet. My boss, Al Klieman and his wife Marion were my only friends there. Joe's family came out in force. There must have been 50 or more that I met for the first time. And never remembered any of them!
Instead of leaving on our honeymoon that night as we had planned, since I was so sick we went back to Joe's apartment for the night. I laid in his arms and cried that night because my kids were not at my wedding. So, the next morning when we were all packed and in the car for the trip to Florida, Joe said we were going to Indiana first! I was glad we were going to see my kids...but still tried to talk him into taking them to Florida with us...but with no success. We got to Mom's about noon and stayed a few hours before leaving for Florida. The first thing Tammy said to Joe was, "Can I call you Daddy, now?" Joe just beamed! and said he would be proud for her and Buddy to call him Daddy....and from that moment on, they did.
Monday, August 17, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 29
During the period Joe and I were broken up, my children faced another heart-breaking situation.
Over the years, I had stayed in touch with their father, Meredith (Mark) Reed. Not real closely, but he would call once or twice a year and I sent school pictures and updates at least once a year.
In April that year he called and said he was being shipped to Viet Nam and wanted to see the kids before he shipped out. He said he was going to Grand Rapids to see his folks and would stop by Ypsilanti on his way there.
You never saw two such excited kids! That's all they talked about all week. On Saturday we spruced up the house 'til it shined. I even bought two bouquets of fresh flowers for the living room. Now, I had tried to dampen their excitement a little...hoping to dull the disappointment if he didn't show up, by telling them all the reasons he might not be able to visit. Like...not enough money to make the trip....early deployment...illness, him or his wife....etc. Yet, their excitement was contagious and I got caught up in it, too.
So, then Saturday...then Sunday...came and went with not so much as a phone call. Tammy and Buddy were devastated. They cried off and on all Saturday night and all day Sunday. And I cried, too....for the pain they were feeling.
That was the end of any cordial feelings I had towards my ex-husband. Hurting me was one thing, but hurting my kids was unforgiveable. Except for one Christmas present each the next Christmas, they had no contact with their father until they were grown and contacted him on their own. To this day, and they're both 50 years old at this writing, they have never seen him since they were two and three years old.
Over the years, I had stayed in touch with their father, Meredith (Mark) Reed. Not real closely, but he would call once or twice a year and I sent school pictures and updates at least once a year.
In April that year he called and said he was being shipped to Viet Nam and wanted to see the kids before he shipped out. He said he was going to Grand Rapids to see his folks and would stop by Ypsilanti on his way there.
You never saw two such excited kids! That's all they talked about all week. On Saturday we spruced up the house 'til it shined. I even bought two bouquets of fresh flowers for the living room. Now, I had tried to dampen their excitement a little...hoping to dull the disappointment if he didn't show up, by telling them all the reasons he might not be able to visit. Like...not enough money to make the trip....early deployment...illness, him or his wife....etc. Yet, their excitement was contagious and I got caught up in it, too.
So, then Saturday...then Sunday...came and went with not so much as a phone call. Tammy and Buddy were devastated. They cried off and on all Saturday night and all day Sunday. And I cried, too....for the pain they were feeling.
That was the end of any cordial feelings I had towards my ex-husband. Hurting me was one thing, but hurting my kids was unforgiveable. Except for one Christmas present each the next Christmas, they had no contact with their father until they were grown and contacted him on their own. To this day, and they're both 50 years old at this writing, they have never seen him since they were two and three years old.
Friday, August 14, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 28
Once again, life was good. We were all settled in our new home. Joe was back in school for his last semester...hopefully. I was working at a job I loved, had a part-time job I equally loved, a man I was crazy in love with...and who apparently felt the same way about me. Tammy and Buddy were happy with all of it!
Tammy had her first crush! Four young men...18 to 22 years old...musicians, all...shared the house next door to us...we shared the same driveway. The next nearest neighbor was at least a quarter mile away. The boys took a liking to my kids and spent a lot of time outside playing with them. I had my reservations about them, even though they were always pleasant and polite to me, even offering to baby-sit after school on the days Joe had classes. Too often, when I talked to a couple of them, I could tell they were high on something...and not alcohol. I forbid Tammy and Buddy to go into their house at any time. Of course whenever Joe and I discussed the boys in her hearing, she became very hostile and defensive of the boys.
We lived on Freeland Road for only a year. While it was Tammy's and Buddy's favorite of the places we lived, it was my least favorite. I liked living in an apartment in town where I didn't have to worry about mowing grass and shoveling snow. Also since I often had to go out in the evenings to settle problems, show apartments to prospective tenants, collect rents, or just make inspections, I had several miles to drive. Joe was wonderful. He never complained about the hours I worked. And the small management company I started was growing. That winter I had 20 apartments in six buildings plus five single dwellings...all rented to college students. The apartments were rented furnished with utilities paid. It seemed like the entire months of September and October I was out every evening for two or three hours.
A serial killer was on the loose that year, killing mainly college girls in Ypsi and Ann Arbor. One week, early the next summer, Avanelle's son, Gary...came out to stay a few days with us. He got bored and went home after a couple of days...while I was at work. He walked home...a good five miles cross-country, through fields. He told his mother that he walked near a dead animal...it stuck to high heaven. A couple days later a 14 year old girl's body was found in that field.
Eventually, the serial killer was caught...not long after I moved to Highland Park. Come to find out...the killer had been one of my tenants for a few months, sharing a house on River Street with several other boys! I had no contact with him, other than saying hi, how are ya...when I'd visit the house. My contact there was just one boy...a graduate student who was responsible for collecting the rent from the boys sharing the house...anywhere from five to eight at any one time.
In addition to my two jobs, Joe was having trouble with another class. It was a math class involving algebraic formulations. Now algebra was the only class I got below an A in in highschool. I had a C one semester in it. Nevertheless, I went to the library and took out algebra books and taught myself enough that I could help Joe with his class. Actually, I did his papers for him, all A's I might add...and he barely passed the tests. But did pass the course with a C.
Joe got his degree in January and we began making plans to get married. Then disaster struck again. On Monday I took the afternoon off work so we could go get our blood tests and apply for our license. When I went home to pick him up...he wasn't there. Instead, there was a note saying he was sorry, but just didn't think he was ready to get married. Just like that he was gone.
I was heart-broken and so were Tammy and Buddy. My life-saver was Dr. Hoff. He was furious at Joe and tried to get hold of him but Joe would not take his calls, nor mine. For the next few months the kids and I spent a lot of time with Bob Hoff and his son who was Buddy's age. I can't say I was never attracted to him, but valued our friendship too much to let him know. After I realized that I was attracted sexually to him, I backed off on the time we spent together and encouraged him in his pursuit of other women...until one of his students began spending too much time at his house. Then I really lit into him over it, asking how he could be so dumb to take such a chance with his position and job. After that he stopped seeing so much of Alice and decided to take a sabbatical. Well, I guess he had been working on it for awhile. That summer he planned to take five years, spending two years in Norway, one year in Germany and two years in a couple African countries studying their physical education systems.
The middle of May, Joe came back. Not exactly back...he still lived in Highland Park where he was teaching middle school...but back into my life. I won't say I welcomed him with open arms...even though I loved him, I was hurt and angry. But he wooed me non-stop. Nightly phone calls. Flowers. Gifts for the kids. He would even call the house and talk to Tammy and Buddy in the hour between when they got home from school and I got home from work.
I was still mixed up and didn't know whether to take Joe back or not when I talked to Bob Hoff about it. Then Bob really threw me for a loop. He said he was the wrong person to ask that advice because he, himself, was in love with me and wanted the kids and me to go to Europe with him. But the proposal he made was that he would pay our way...until we decided whether or not to get married...and he thought we should give it at least six months together before we made that decision. I said no way, jose! I was tempted, I admit. I wasn't in love with him but did like and respect him and can't deny there was a certain sexual attraction. He asked me not to make a decision right away but to think about it. He had two weeks before he had to finalize his plans with the school.
Well...
I decided to take those two weeks and see if I could salvage my relationship with Joe or not. At the end of the time, I had to tell Bob that Joe and I were engaged and proudly show him my diamond.
Did I make the right decision? I have often thought how different our lives would have been had I gone with Bob. How the kids lives would have been enriched by five years in Europe and Africa. But I loved Joe and wanted to spend my life with him.
Tammy had her first crush! Four young men...18 to 22 years old...musicians, all...shared the house next door to us...we shared the same driveway. The next nearest neighbor was at least a quarter mile away. The boys took a liking to my kids and spent a lot of time outside playing with them. I had my reservations about them, even though they were always pleasant and polite to me, even offering to baby-sit after school on the days Joe had classes. Too often, when I talked to a couple of them, I could tell they were high on something...and not alcohol. I forbid Tammy and Buddy to go into their house at any time. Of course whenever Joe and I discussed the boys in her hearing, she became very hostile and defensive of the boys.
We lived on Freeland Road for only a year. While it was Tammy's and Buddy's favorite of the places we lived, it was my least favorite. I liked living in an apartment in town where I didn't have to worry about mowing grass and shoveling snow. Also since I often had to go out in the evenings to settle problems, show apartments to prospective tenants, collect rents, or just make inspections, I had several miles to drive. Joe was wonderful. He never complained about the hours I worked. And the small management company I started was growing. That winter I had 20 apartments in six buildings plus five single dwellings...all rented to college students. The apartments were rented furnished with utilities paid. It seemed like the entire months of September and October I was out every evening for two or three hours.
A serial killer was on the loose that year, killing mainly college girls in Ypsi and Ann Arbor. One week, early the next summer, Avanelle's son, Gary...came out to stay a few days with us. He got bored and went home after a couple of days...while I was at work. He walked home...a good five miles cross-country, through fields. He told his mother that he walked near a dead animal...it stuck to high heaven. A couple days later a 14 year old girl's body was found in that field.
Eventually, the serial killer was caught...not long after I moved to Highland Park. Come to find out...the killer had been one of my tenants for a few months, sharing a house on River Street with several other boys! I had no contact with him, other than saying hi, how are ya...when I'd visit the house. My contact there was just one boy...a graduate student who was responsible for collecting the rent from the boys sharing the house...anywhere from five to eight at any one time.
In addition to my two jobs, Joe was having trouble with another class. It was a math class involving algebraic formulations. Now algebra was the only class I got below an A in in highschool. I had a C one semester in it. Nevertheless, I went to the library and took out algebra books and taught myself enough that I could help Joe with his class. Actually, I did his papers for him, all A's I might add...and he barely passed the tests. But did pass the course with a C.
Joe got his degree in January and we began making plans to get married. Then disaster struck again. On Monday I took the afternoon off work so we could go get our blood tests and apply for our license. When I went home to pick him up...he wasn't there. Instead, there was a note saying he was sorry, but just didn't think he was ready to get married. Just like that he was gone.
I was heart-broken and so were Tammy and Buddy. My life-saver was Dr. Hoff. He was furious at Joe and tried to get hold of him but Joe would not take his calls, nor mine. For the next few months the kids and I spent a lot of time with Bob Hoff and his son who was Buddy's age. I can't say I was never attracted to him, but valued our friendship too much to let him know. After I realized that I was attracted sexually to him, I backed off on the time we spent together and encouraged him in his pursuit of other women...until one of his students began spending too much time at his house. Then I really lit into him over it, asking how he could be so dumb to take such a chance with his position and job. After that he stopped seeing so much of Alice and decided to take a sabbatical. Well, I guess he had been working on it for awhile. That summer he planned to take five years, spending two years in Norway, one year in Germany and two years in a couple African countries studying their physical education systems.
The middle of May, Joe came back. Not exactly back...he still lived in Highland Park where he was teaching middle school...but back into my life. I won't say I welcomed him with open arms...even though I loved him, I was hurt and angry. But he wooed me non-stop. Nightly phone calls. Flowers. Gifts for the kids. He would even call the house and talk to Tammy and Buddy in the hour between when they got home from school and I got home from work.
I was still mixed up and didn't know whether to take Joe back or not when I talked to Bob Hoff about it. Then Bob really threw me for a loop. He said he was the wrong person to ask that advice because he, himself, was in love with me and wanted the kids and me to go to Europe with him. But the proposal he made was that he would pay our way...until we decided whether or not to get married...and he thought we should give it at least six months together before we made that decision. I said no way, jose! I was tempted, I admit. I wasn't in love with him but did like and respect him and can't deny there was a certain sexual attraction. He asked me not to make a decision right away but to think about it. He had two weeks before he had to finalize his plans with the school.
Well...
I decided to take those two weeks and see if I could salvage my relationship with Joe or not. At the end of the time, I had to tell Bob that Joe and I were engaged and proudly show him my diamond.
Did I make the right decision? I have often thought how different our lives would have been had I gone with Bob. How the kids lives would have been enriched by five years in Europe and Africa. But I loved Joe and wanted to spend my life with him.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 27
The two years we lived on Hamilton were a very memorable period in mine and the kids lives. So much happened those two years that I could probably write a blog a day for a year about all the things we did and that happened.
The most important to all three of us was meeting Joe. It didn't take long for him to become an integral part of our lives...Tammy and Buddy as much as me. Actually, many times I , kiddingly, teased him about marrying me just to get my kids. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a part-time job managing land contracts for a few people. In 1965, I added to my little management enterprise by taking on several apartment buildings...renting them and collecting rents. My experiences with that are a whole bunch of blogs on their own, so I won't go into them here. But, the extra money made our financial situation much better. I even managed to save a few hundred dollars here and there and decided to buy the building where we lived.
After a couple months of negotiations, the owner and I decided on a price...very reasonable, too. Except, he wouldn't carry the mortgage. Being a single mother, the bank wanted a big down payment...much more than I had. If I remember correctly, I was paying $11,000 for the building; the bank wanted twenty percent down...which was about three times the amount I had saved.
At work, I attended a real estate closing in the absence of my boss who was on vacation. After the closing, the attorney...with whom I had become friends with over the years...making small talk, asked what was new in my life. I told him about the building I wanted to buy. To make a long story short..he called me a couple days later and offered to help me out with the purchase...he would put up the money and I would make payments to him. We made an appointment for me to meet with him later that week to discuss the particulars.
Joe was taking a summer course at Eastern and kept Tammy and Buddy during the day...until time for them to go to Indiana.
Well, on the day I was to meet with the attorney, I got a phone call from Buddy. He was so excited I could barely understand him. "Mom...don't sign any papers, the house is on fire.!"...and he hung up! I must have screamed because everybody in the office was soon gathered around me asking what was wrong. I was shaking all over as I repeated what Buddy had said. I said I had to leave right away and go see what was going on. My boss wouldn't let me drive...he insisted on taking me.
When I got to the house, it, indeed, was on fire...or had been. Fire trucks and firemen were all around it. My main concern was Joe and the kids..I couldn't see them anywhere. When firemen tried to block our way, my boss told them who I was and they told me my family was across the street. At the same time, I heard Tammy and Buddy screaming..."Mommy...Mommy" and I rushed over to them, hugging them tight while we all cried. Joe had his arms around all three of us while he tried to explain what had happened.
The kids downstairs...and Buddy...had decided to roast hot dogs on the cement porch. Buddy said he left and went upstairs after he ate his hot dog. Then the fire must have got out of control, because Joe said Tammy and Buddy were in their bedrooms when he smelled smoke and heard the kids downstairs yelling. He said he didn't worry at first...until smoke started filling the living room. About that time, Buddy who had gone downstairs to see what they kids there were yelling about, ran in and said the house was on fire.
After Joe got the kids out he said he hoped I had not signed any papers on the house! Then he gave Buddy a dime and told him to go to the corner store and call me. He said Buddy was supposed to tell me the house was on fire, but that they were all okay.
All the fire damage was to the downstairs living room. But there was a lot of smoke damage, as well as holes in the walls made by the firemen...even in our living room upstairs. Everything I owned was sooty and stinky.
Joe, the kids, and I went to Avanelle's. The next day, a week early, I took Tammy and Buddy to Indiana. Joe went home to Highland Park and I stayed with Avanelle while looking for another place for us to live.
As it happened, one of the buildings I managed was vacant. It was a farm house just a few miles from town, with two big bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bath and utility room...as well as a basement with an outside entrance. It was perfect...except for being out in the country!
From the apartment, I took the wood furniture...dressers, chests, tables, chairs, ...the TV...lamps....dishes...and other kitchen stuff. I tried to save our clothes and linens. But, after numerous washings, they still smelled so I ended up having to scrap nearly everything. There went my savings...what with a months rent and deposit and new clothes for all of us plus bedding, towels, etc.
Bless my family! Again they came through for me. Uncle Speed and Jim, Avanelle's husband, helped me move what I could from the apartment into the new house. Avanelle and Phyllis helped me scrub everything down to get rid of the smoke smell. Uncle Troy bought me a couch and two chairs at an auction sale. Uncle Speed gave me a double bed. I bought a set of twin beds at a used furniture store, including mattress and springs. By the time the kids came home the middle of August, everything was ready for them...they had a home again.
The most important to all three of us was meeting Joe. It didn't take long for him to become an integral part of our lives...Tammy and Buddy as much as me. Actually, many times I , kiddingly, teased him about marrying me just to get my kids. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a part-time job managing land contracts for a few people. In 1965, I added to my little management enterprise by taking on several apartment buildings...renting them and collecting rents. My experiences with that are a whole bunch of blogs on their own, so I won't go into them here. But, the extra money made our financial situation much better. I even managed to save a few hundred dollars here and there and decided to buy the building where we lived.
After a couple months of negotiations, the owner and I decided on a price...very reasonable, too. Except, he wouldn't carry the mortgage. Being a single mother, the bank wanted a big down payment...much more than I had. If I remember correctly, I was paying $11,000 for the building; the bank wanted twenty percent down...which was about three times the amount I had saved.
At work, I attended a real estate closing in the absence of my boss who was on vacation. After the closing, the attorney...with whom I had become friends with over the years...making small talk, asked what was new in my life. I told him about the building I wanted to buy. To make a long story short..he called me a couple days later and offered to help me out with the purchase...he would put up the money and I would make payments to him. We made an appointment for me to meet with him later that week to discuss the particulars.
Joe was taking a summer course at Eastern and kept Tammy and Buddy during the day...until time for them to go to Indiana.
Well, on the day I was to meet with the attorney, I got a phone call from Buddy. He was so excited I could barely understand him. "Mom...don't sign any papers, the house is on fire.!"...and he hung up! I must have screamed because everybody in the office was soon gathered around me asking what was wrong. I was shaking all over as I repeated what Buddy had said. I said I had to leave right away and go see what was going on. My boss wouldn't let me drive...he insisted on taking me.
When I got to the house, it, indeed, was on fire...or had been. Fire trucks and firemen were all around it. My main concern was Joe and the kids..I couldn't see them anywhere. When firemen tried to block our way, my boss told them who I was and they told me my family was across the street. At the same time, I heard Tammy and Buddy screaming..."Mommy...Mommy" and I rushed over to them, hugging them tight while we all cried. Joe had his arms around all three of us while he tried to explain what had happened.
The kids downstairs...and Buddy...had decided to roast hot dogs on the cement porch. Buddy said he left and went upstairs after he ate his hot dog. Then the fire must have got out of control, because Joe said Tammy and Buddy were in their bedrooms when he smelled smoke and heard the kids downstairs yelling. He said he didn't worry at first...until smoke started filling the living room. About that time, Buddy who had gone downstairs to see what they kids there were yelling about, ran in and said the house was on fire.
After Joe got the kids out he said he hoped I had not signed any papers on the house! Then he gave Buddy a dime and told him to go to the corner store and call me. He said Buddy was supposed to tell me the house was on fire, but that they were all okay.
All the fire damage was to the downstairs living room. But there was a lot of smoke damage, as well as holes in the walls made by the firemen...even in our living room upstairs. Everything I owned was sooty and stinky.
Joe, the kids, and I went to Avanelle's. The next day, a week early, I took Tammy and Buddy to Indiana. Joe went home to Highland Park and I stayed with Avanelle while looking for another place for us to live.
As it happened, one of the buildings I managed was vacant. It was a farm house just a few miles from town, with two big bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bath and utility room...as well as a basement with an outside entrance. It was perfect...except for being out in the country!
From the apartment, I took the wood furniture...dressers, chests, tables, chairs, ...the TV...lamps....dishes...and other kitchen stuff. I tried to save our clothes and linens. But, after numerous washings, they still smelled so I ended up having to scrap nearly everything. There went my savings...what with a months rent and deposit and new clothes for all of us plus bedding, towels, etc.
Bless my family! Again they came through for me. Uncle Speed and Jim, Avanelle's husband, helped me move what I could from the apartment into the new house. Avanelle and Phyllis helped me scrub everything down to get rid of the smoke smell. Uncle Troy bought me a couch and two chairs at an auction sale. Uncle Speed gave me a double bed. I bought a set of twin beds at a used furniture store, including mattress and springs. By the time the kids came home the middle of August, everything was ready for them...they had a home again.
Monday, August 3, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 26
Granny (Polly Shepherd) loved the Tigers baseball team. She never missed watching a televised game. Joe had some friends on the Tigers team and he tried to get tickets for her, but she couldn't get around very good and we decided there was just no way she could ever attend a game. Back then, as with most public places, Tiger Stadium was not very handicapped-friendly.
Another thing she wanted to do was go to Canada. So, one Sunday when Joe wasn't with us, Phyllis and I packed a picnic lunch and then picked up Granny and Aunt Dora. We wanted to surprise them so we told them we were going to a park for a picnic. We dared the kids to tell them where we were actually going.
When I got on the expressway, Granny...in the front seat with Phyllis and me, said, "Lordy, what park are we going to?"
The kids snickered...jumping up and down in their anxiety over keeping the secret, had Aunt Dora bickering at them to keep still.
Granny finally figured out where we were going, but not until I got in line to go through the tunnel to Windsor. She grumbled all the time we were in the tunnel, saying she hoped that wasn't the only way back. I told her it wasn't and we would not take the tunnel back home.
As I drove along the road by the river on the Canadian side, I pointed out the Ambassador Bridge and told her that's the way we would go home! She said absolutely not! At which, we all laughed and I explained the only three ways home were the tunnel, the bridge...or swimming.
We found a good parking spot by the river and near a playground for the kids and had our picnic. Granny and Aunt Dora just enjoyed looking at the river and watching the boats.
After a couple of hours, we were ready to leave. I took the bridge home, and, forgetting that Granny was scared of it, stopped near the center so Phyllis and I could get out and look at a sunken ship that was in the process of being rescued. Granny yelled at us and said "Get in this car right this minute and get me off this bridge!" Opps!
On Granny's 75th birthday, which was a Sunday, I planned a surprise for her. Mom and Dad and the kids came up for the weekend...which wasn't unusual so Granny didn't think anything about that. Granny and Aunt Dora went to both Sunday School and Church every Sunday morning. That Sunday, between Sunday School and Church, Granny's entire family marched into the church. Mom and Dad and kids, Troy and Susie and kids, Darvin and Shirley and kids, Lee and Syreda, Calvin, Phyllis and Suetta and me and my kids. Talk about a surprise! The look on Granny's face was priceless! Of course, Aunt Dora was surprised, too..I hadn't told her for fear she'd let the cat out of the bag...but she let Granny think she'd known it all along!
After church, we all gathered at Troy and Susie's for dinner and birthday cake and gifts...lots of gifts. Granny said she was 75 years old and it was her very first birthday party!
Another thing she wanted to do was go to Canada. So, one Sunday when Joe wasn't with us, Phyllis and I packed a picnic lunch and then picked up Granny and Aunt Dora. We wanted to surprise them so we told them we were going to a park for a picnic. We dared the kids to tell them where we were actually going.
When I got on the expressway, Granny...in the front seat with Phyllis and me, said, "Lordy, what park are we going to?"
The kids snickered...jumping up and down in their anxiety over keeping the secret, had Aunt Dora bickering at them to keep still.
Granny finally figured out where we were going, but not until I got in line to go through the tunnel to Windsor. She grumbled all the time we were in the tunnel, saying she hoped that wasn't the only way back. I told her it wasn't and we would not take the tunnel back home.
As I drove along the road by the river on the Canadian side, I pointed out the Ambassador Bridge and told her that's the way we would go home! She said absolutely not! At which, we all laughed and I explained the only three ways home were the tunnel, the bridge...or swimming.
We found a good parking spot by the river and near a playground for the kids and had our picnic. Granny and Aunt Dora just enjoyed looking at the river and watching the boats.
After a couple of hours, we were ready to leave. I took the bridge home, and, forgetting that Granny was scared of it, stopped near the center so Phyllis and I could get out and look at a sunken ship that was in the process of being rescued. Granny yelled at us and said "Get in this car right this minute and get me off this bridge!" Opps!
On Granny's 75th birthday, which was a Sunday, I planned a surprise for her. Mom and Dad and the kids came up for the weekend...which wasn't unusual so Granny didn't think anything about that. Granny and Aunt Dora went to both Sunday School and Church every Sunday morning. That Sunday, between Sunday School and Church, Granny's entire family marched into the church. Mom and Dad and kids, Troy and Susie and kids, Darvin and Shirley and kids, Lee and Syreda, Calvin, Phyllis and Suetta and me and my kids. Talk about a surprise! The look on Granny's face was priceless! Of course, Aunt Dora was surprised, too..I hadn't told her for fear she'd let the cat out of the bag...but she let Granny think she'd known it all along!
After church, we all gathered at Troy and Susie's for dinner and birthday cake and gifts...lots of gifts. Granny said she was 75 years old and it was her very first birthday party!
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