Monthly Archives: July 2024

DOUBLE THE TROUBLE AND DOUBLE THE BLESSINGS

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I chanced upon an article written about twins, both fraternal and identical. This intrigued me because I am a fraternal twin. My sister and I were born seven minutes apart in 1951. My mother was forty-one when we were born. She had already given birth to four children. My brother, Hugh, was the oldest. He was born nineteen years before my twin in 1932. My oldest sister, Jeanie, was born in 1936. My sister, Eileen, was born in 1943, and my sister, Elizabeth, was born in 1944.

Susan and Karen -1951

Susan and Karen-born 1951

My mother had a second set of twins, Stephen and Girard. Unfortunately, they did not survive. When my twin and I were growing up, my following oldest sisters, Eileen and Liz, lived at home. My brother and oldest sister were married and living in their own homes with children.

I don’t remember too much of my early years. I recall going to my first day of grade school. We lived two houses down from the Catholic Church, and the Catholic elementary school was next to the church. The Catholic Church significantly impacted our lives since we lived so close to it; my twin and I also attended Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight years. My sister and I stayed after school to help clean up the classrooms and sometimes the bathrooms. I never questioned it at the time. It was just another chore for the dear Sisters. It wasn’t until I was out of school that I realized why my sister and I had to do chores at the school and the convent. A convent was the name of the residence where the Sisters lived. It was a payment and supplied the tuition my parents paid for our eight years of attending Catholic elementary school.

On Friday after school, my sister and I would walk to the convent to do our chores. My sister, Karen, was tasked with ironing some of the nun’s vestments and ironing the altar silks that protected the altar. I was glad I didn’t have to do the ironing because I wouldn’t say I liked it. I saw my poor mother ironing every day when I came home from school, and I didn’t want to end up doing that. So, my job was to clean the storage room where the sisters had their canned goods. In addition, I had to clean the shelves. It was an easy but tedious job. I did this for eight years. I never questioned it; I just did it as a matter of course.

Because my sister and I were twins and always in the same classroom, my sister and I didn’t get along. Because we shared the same bedroom for most of our lives and then had to share the same classroom for eight years, Karen often would not acknowledge that I was her twin sister. Our classmates knew there were two sets of twins in our class. One was Marie and Martin Mc Cale. Who were fraternal twins since they were a boy and a girl? And Karen and I looked no more alike than Marie and Martin McCale. Whenever Karen could, she would ignore my presence. Many people in my elementary school believed my twin was Helen Hartman, one of my best friends, and we looked somewhat alike.

When Karen and I were about to graduate from elementary school, we had to take entrance exams to attend Catholic High Schools, Holy Cross High School, and St. Mary of the Angels Academy. My parents wanted us to attend St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield. We both passed the entrance exams because it was an all-girl high school. And so, we attended St. Mary of the Angels Academy for four years and graduated in 1969. I was happy when I graduated since I had twelve years of Catholic School, which was enough for me.

St. Mary of The Angels Academy 1969

St. Mary of the Angels Academy Graduation 1969

St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy found jobs for Karen and me since we wouldn’t go to college as my parents could not afford it. And my grades weren’t good enough to get a scholarship. I missed my high school friends, who were all going away to college. And I didn’t see them again until I was invited to a twentieth reunion. Looking back on my high school experience, I realize I benefited from it in many ways. One reason was that it was an all-girls school, unlike Catholic Elementary School, which showed favoritism towards boys. St. Mary’s geared its education to benefit girls. The employment position Saint Mary of the Angels Academy found for me was working as a dental assistant for a dentist, Dr. Edward G. Wozniak, in Haddon Township, New Jersey. Dr. Wozniak taught me everything I needed to learn to be his assistant. He was a kind and decent man. And I worked for him for many years. I decided to look for a different job because I had to work all day, four nights a week, and Saturday mornings at the dental office. And I could only take a vacation for the five days he and his family took their vacation. This prevented me from going out with friends, having fun, or going on a summer vacation. So, eventually, I decided to look for a different type of employment. And that is when I ended up working for the Ellis Brothers. And that, my friends, was the beginning of a whole other kind of experience.

By this time, my sister had been working for several years and found she had a business head. She was promoted to manager in a short time. She worked in the auto business for many years and was quite successful.

During the time I was working at the Ellis Brothers, my oldest girlfriend they told me that her cousin, Bobby, was coming to visit them in New Jersey. She asked me if I wanted to come over while he was staying since I had a crush on him. And I said, “Yes, I did.” And that was the beginning of a significant change in my life. Bob and I went out, and then he had to return to Florida, where his parents lived. Bob and I kept in touch with each other for many months, and eventually, I decided that I was going to move to Florida. My parents were not happy. But it didn’t try to stop me from moving there. But it was clear they were upset. And so I took an auto-train to Florida, about a twelve-hour trip. And that was the beginning of a new life for me. I found employment at an insurance company, and soon after that, Bob and I were married. This was 1974, and I had just turned twenty-three years old.

That was fifty years ago, and we have two grown children and have been retired to North Carolina for eight years. I’m not saying everything was perfect all those years; we had ups and downs. We take one day at a time now. Although I never had the pleasure of any grandchildren, I do have two dogs, four parrots, and six finches.

I have volunteered at an animal sanctuary for the last eight years, caring for parrots and pheasants. I have also continued writing short stories and memoirs for the past eight years and working in my garden. Who could ask for anything more?

 

 

 

MY CHILDHOOD AS I REMEMBER IT

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As I look back over the many years of my life, I realize that the times I enjoyed the most were Summer vacations during my grade school years. My generation, the Baby Boomers, had complete freedom during the summer. Our parents would tell us that we had to be home once it got dark out. They never asked us where we went or what we were doing. However, we often stayed out long after it got dark. If we didn’t come home when it was dark, our mothers would call us out the front door to go home. I grew up in a small town in New Jersey called Maple Shade. Everyone in the neighborhood knew all their neighbors. And they would watch out for their neighbor’s kids.

After dinner, all the neighborhood kids were allowed to go outside and play. We would play hide and seek. The only problem was that the mosquitoes would eat you alive during the summer in South Jersey. But we didn’t let that stop us. Regardless of the mosquitoes, we played outside until our parents called us to come in. The first thing my mother would say when I came in the front door was, “Susan, close the door before all the mosquitoes come in.” Often by the time she said that there were mosquitoes already in the house.

We didn’t have air conditioners back then, but there was always a big, electric fan in the window that would circulate the air and hopefully cool the bedroom out a little. And let me tell you, it was hot and humid. We were under constant attack by mosquitoes all day and all night. The worst thing was the mosquitoes buzzing in your face all night.

When I was young, I shared a room with my twin sister, and my two older sisters slept in a bed beside ours. My brother had a bedroom of his own. My older sister had a room of her own as well. My brother, Harry, was twenty years older than me, and my oldest sister, Jeanie, was fifteen years older. My next older siblings were seven and eight years older than my twin sister and I.

We were an Irish Catholic family. We lived two houses away from the Catholic church and the elementary school I attended for eight years. Our neighbors were Catholic, either Irish or Italian, and had large families. Some of my elementary school friends had as many as ten or twelve kids. It wasn’t unheard of for some families to have ten or more children. They did not have large homes. For the most part, most of the homes in Maple Shade were two stories but only had three bedrooms, an eat-in kitchen, and one bathroom. We only had one bathroom and six siblings. So, as you can imagine, we didn’t get to spend too much time in the bathroom.

As time went by, my older siblings got married and moved away. My oldest sister, Jeanie, moved to New York, and I rarely saw her unless she came home to visit my parents. After several years, my older sibling and their spouses began having children. I was happy when they visited my parents since I could spend time with my nieces and nephews. And I loved spending time with little kids. I was so proud to be their aunt. And I used to take them all over my neighborhood to show them off.

When I got a little older, I babysat my sister’s kids. I couldn’t wait until I grew up and could have my own children; until then, I had to be satisfied by my animal menagerie. We had a dog and birds, and I had hamsters and gerbils. I loved animals almost as much as I loved little kids.

Strawbridge Lake

As I was saying, Summer during my childhood was the best time. The older I got, the more I used to roam all over Maple Shade and nearby parks and lakes—especially Strawbridge Lake, which was several miles away from where I lived. I used to ride my bike there every chance I had. There was a bridge and a waterfall there. And I just loved to walk across the bridge. I used to take all my best friends with me. Our parents never asked where we were going, and they just told us to be on time for lunch and dinner. Sometimes, we would take a picnic lunch and a blanket with us and eat our lunch by the lake. It wasn’t a lake you could swim in; it had fish. But, we would take our shoes off and walk in the shallow end of the lake.

There were always a lot of kids around, and we would play with them as well. We would go on the swings and the sliding board. I never told my parents where we went, and they didn’t ask. But if we were late coming home, my mother would be upset. I never had a watch when I was a kid, so I’m not sure how I was supposed to know what time it was.

And one of our neighbors. The Phiefers had a built-in pool in their backyard. All the kids in the neighborhood would go swimming in their pool every Summer. The deepest part of the pool was four feet. I never learned how to swim, and as a result, I nearly drowned a couple of times. One day, I found myself at the deep end, grabbed onto Denny Pheiffer, and almost drowned him as well. And that was the end of my swimming in the Pheiffers’ pool.

Luckily, I had a lot of girlfriends in Maple Shade, and they also had pools. On Saturdays, we would all visit the Roxy Theater in downtown Maple Shade and see two movies for twenty-five cents. Sometimes, we would see the same movie again and again. If we got tired, we would take a bus to the roller skating rink and roller skate for hours.

But the best holiday was Halloween. Everyone in town celebrated it. All the kids would go from house to house to get candy. My friends and I went to every house. I’m not exaggerating. We would take an empty pillow case, and it would be filled up with candy. We would take it home, drop the candy off at our houses, and then go out again and fill the pillowcase with candy again. The whole downtown was decorated for Halloween, and the movie theater would have a spooky movie playing, and all the kids would go to see it for twenty-five cents.

high school graduation picture

Susan Culver- high school graduation picture

By the night’s end, I was always sick when it was time to go home. I’m surprised I have any teeth in my head after many years of celebrating Halloween. Although, I have to admit that by the time I was ten or eleven, I had a great many cavities. And I had to go to the dentist to have them all filled. At some point, my parents decided that I wasn’t going to go out trick or treating anymore. So, we would just watch a spooky movie instead.

And then there was Christmas. I can not describe how much I looked forward to Christmas. Where I was sure I would find a Christmas tree loaded with presents with my name on them. But, Alas, I usually only received two presents. But, somehow, the anticipation of Christmas and the one or two presents I did receive made me happy enough. That was until I went to my best girlfriend’s house after Christmas Mass, and she showed me the presents she had received. There were only two children in her family at that time. And I had five siblings. But I was still happy with the Christmas gifts I received.

And then there was the joy of the first heavy snow that came down on Maple Shade. My friends and I would stay out for hours and hours. We would slip and slide on the frozen snow or shovel the snow and make large snow mountains to climb and slide down. We would all stay out until we were practically pop cycles. There aren’t words to describe the fun we had on a cold and snowy day with all our neighborhood friends.

I’m not saying that my childhood was perfect, but it was when I had a great deal of freedom, no responsibilities, and many friends to play with all year round. My parents did not discuss family matters, good or bad, before me or my twin sister. I don’t recall my parents ever disagreeing when I was around. If my parents had financial problems, I never knew about them. We always had our needs met, never went hungry, and got new clothes if we needed them.

I have many happy memories of my childhood. I believe my childhood overall was a good one. My parents protected us from difficulties they encountered during my early years. My mother was the kindest and most caring person I have ever known in my long lifetime. My father worked hard to take care of our family. We never lacked anything. My two older sisters, myself, and my twin Karen all attended private Catholic schools. We were given every opportunity to succeed in our lives. My parents did everything they could. Were they perfect? No, they were not, but I can not imagine having other parents. And although my father passed away from lung cancer in 1986, and my dear mother passed away a year later in 1987, I still miss them and think of them nearly every day.

 

I don’t know if there is a heaven but it there is I hope my mother and my father will be waiting patiently for me to arrive at heaven’s door some time in the future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE YELLOW BUG

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It was the summer of 1970. I worked as a dental assistant for Doctor Edward G. Wozniak for about a year and a half. I started working for him when I was a senior in high school. My title was dental assistant, but actually, I was the entire office staff.

1970 Yellow Volkswagon

1970 Yellow Volkswagon

I was his chairside assistant and was responsible for developing dental X-rays decades before digital X-rays. I answered the phone, handled the billing and confirmed appointments, cleaned the dental office and the waiting room, sterilized dental tools, and sometimes babysat his two young children. It wasn’t unknown for me to take his car for a tune-up.

I worked a split shift. I didn’t get home until 9:30 at night, and then I would have to be back first thing in the morning by 8 a.m. I worked five and a half days a week. I made a minimum wage of $1.45 an hour for 40 hours. I didn’t get paid overtime.

I worked from eight to twelve hours, then drove home and had lunch with my parents. After lunch, I went back to work. My mother always had lunch waiting for me: a buttered bagel and lemon yogurt. Once my mother found out you liked something, she gave it to you long after you were sick. She was funny like that. Finally, I begged, “Please, Mom, no more bagels and yogurt.”

It was a vigorous work schedule, but looking back at it, I realize I enjoyed working there. Dr. Wozniak was a decent man who worked as hard and long hours as I did. He was about thirty-eight when I started to work for him, and I was almost eighteen. Even though there was a twenty-year age gap, we worked well together.

He was patient with me while I learned the job. I was quick to study and loved the fast pace and meeting new people. I enjoyed keeping the office spic and span and keeping everything orderly. I was my father’s daughter, intelligent, quiet, organized, and always on time.

I decided I needed to buy a vehicle of my own. My sister, Karen, and I had been sharing a car our father had given us. Did I mention we are Fraternal Twins? It was a beat-up Edsel, about ten years old at the time. It was my father’s car before it became ours.

Now that I think about it, my father was very generous in giving us his car. He had to purchase another car for himself. My dad had recently retired and was living on Social Security, so he must not have had much money. I guess I never really thought about that until now.

My sister and I were somewhat embarrassed driving this car because it was in pretty rough shape—let’s say it had seen better days. The trunk was banged up, and a chain held it closed. My father had glued a picture of a strawberry on it in a misguided attempt to cover up the enormous dent. He was something of a folk artist. But that is a story for another time.

The driver’s seat tended to collapse backward unexpectedly. We had to anticipate this and keep our backs straight at all times. You couldn’t lean all your weight against the back seat. You had to keep your back straight and somehow suspend it that way unless you wanted to end up in the back seat with no one driving.

At some point, I had the brilliant idea to prop an umbrella behind the seat to prevent the seatback from collapsing backward.  The umbrella worked for some time until it would vibrate and, over time, fall to the right or left. I realize now that this was a dangerous and possible suicidal driving problem. At the time, I didn’t give it much thought. My sister and I never talked about it.

The other problem was that my sister and I were inexperienced at both driving and being responsible. As a result, we would often forget to turn the headlights off on our shared automobile when we arrived home. And during that first cold winter night, we repeatedly killed the battery by leaving the headlights on overnight. In 1970, lights didn’t turn off automatically when you took the keys out of the ignition.

Unfortunately, we would have to wake my father to jump the car battery. This happened quite frequently and made for some very tense mornings. My father, who worked nights, would be sleeping, and we had to wake him up. He would yell and holler and give us hell. We would promise not to do it again. But we did, and then we would have to wake him up again. It was a long learning curve for my sister and me.

We lived closer to my sister’s job than mine, and I had that two-hour break in the middle of the day. So, I would drop her off at the Mailing Services where she worked. Then, I went to my job, another ten minutes away from Collingswood, to Oaklyn, NJ.

My sister endlessly complained that I had the car more often than her. She said it was unfair and that I had always been the favorite. And sometimes she had to take customers out. I never fully understood where she took these customers and for what purpose. I probably never asked.

About this time, a friend of hers, Elaine Wharton, stopped by to visit. We went to grade school together. She taught Karen how to drive even though she had just gotten her driver’s license a few weeks before.

Elaine was driving her new car, and Karen and I were sitting on our front steps. She told us that she had just purchased a brand-new automobile. She informed us that she didn’t have to put out any money. She had financed the whole thing. We had no idea that this was possible.

My sister went to the car dealer and purchased a new car within a couple of weeks. She bought a Maverick. It turned out to be a lemon, breaking down more than it ran.

I decided to get a 1970 Volkswagen. My sister went with me to the VW Dealer since she already knew the ropes. She did all the talking. She was imbued with confidence at an early age. Confidence I didn’t develop until much later in life. The car salesman asked me, “Is she your Philadelphia lawyer?”

It turned out that I was making less money than Karen, and I had to get a co-signer. I don’t think my sister and I ever discussed our salaries. I asked my older brother, Hugh. He was a clinical psychologist, twenty years older than us. He was married, had three kids, and had two jobs. He wasn’t too thrilled about co-signing, but he did it.

The car was a 1970 lemon-yellow VW, and it was love at first sight. It had an automatic stick shift, which I had to learn how to use on the drive home from the dealer.

The car cost $2,300.00. My payments were $65.54 a month for three years. I paid it off in eighteen months because I couldn’t tolerate the idea that my brother had to co-sign for me and seemed ticked off about it.

I was so excited about this beautiful car; it was all mine. I used to get up early every day and hose it down before I went to work. My father swore that I would wash the paint off it.

My Dad was annoyed that Karen and I were only nineteen and had brand-new vehicles. And here he was, sixty-three, and never purchased a new car.  That year, he bought his first new car, a Ford.

I had my yellow bug for ten years. I drove it out of NJ  to Florida when I moved there. I drove that car all over Florida. And to California when we moved there when Bob attended Brooks Institute, a photography school.

I loved that car up to the day my husband, Bob, and I was involved in an accident while driving in the rain on the way to San Diego. We were going to spend Thanksgiving with his best friend, Ronnie.

We didn’t have any extra money because we were living hand to mouth. And unfortunately, the car had bald tires. There was an accident in front of us. And we skidded into the median strip. My VW was crushed in the front by the car we hit and a car in the rear. The trunk was in the front of those early VWs, and it was totaled.

When my car was towed away, I never saw it again. I cried like a baby. I cried the whole time we were visiting Bob’s friends and refused to eat anything for the three days we visited them. I’m sure he and his wife were glad when we left.

It’s a true axiom that you never truly get over your first love. Although it has been over fifty years since I lost my beautiful VW, and I have owned many cars since I have never loved one as much as I loved that yellow VW.