Category Archives: My Memoirs

OH HOW TIME HAS FLOWN BY

It seems my life has flown by in the blink of an eye. I can clearly remember my childhood experiences growing up in Maple Shade, New Jersey. And the eight years I spent at Our Lady of Perpetual Help School. And the four years I spent at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, New Jersey. I can’t say that all my experiences attending Catholic School were all good ones. However, I made a lot of friends. Not to mention, I learned all the basic skills, like reading, writing, and arithmetic. The nuns were strict, and I’m not exaggerating. Suppose you spoke when you were not allowed to or were caught looking at someone else’s work. Well, woe be it to you. You were going to pay a high price. I learned a lot while I attended Catholic Elementary School. But not all of it was good. But it wasn’t all bad, either. And then there were the surprises if we got too much snow on a winter’s day. The school would be closed.
On the other hand, we only lived two houses down from OLPH School. And if the dear “sisters” saw us (my twin sister and I) out playing in the snow. We would be dragged into the school to do manual labor, which could be anything from cleaning the blackboards to cleaning the desks, etc.

When I graduated from grade school, I had to take entrance exams to attend the Catholic High Schools in the area. Somehow, “by the grace of God.” I passed the exams and was invited to participate in Holy Cross High School or St. Mary of the Angels Academy. My parents decided it would benefit them if we attended an all-girls school (St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy). I enjoyed my time there except for Math Class, which I barely passed. In fact, “by the grace of god that I passed.” I didn’t learn higher Maths until I was a grown adult when I decided to learn all Maths, which started with adding/subtracting, multiplication, and algebra.

Why, you may ask? Because I decided I wanted to teach people struggling with math how they, too, could learn. In addition, I taught writing skills and reading. And prepped them to pass the GED class and eventually be able to earn “their high school diploma..” It was one of the most rewarding experiences I have had. I felt a great accomplishment to give someone a hand-up in their lives. The only problem I encountered was when one of the students who wanted help learning to read or write in English didn’t speak English. She was Japanese, and alas, I didn’t talk, nor could I write in Japanese. So, I had to search for someone in my area to help them, and after quite a while, I found a good teacher for them.

Tyler School of Art at Temple University

It was about this time, I was thirty-five, that I decided I wanted to go to college. I had two young children. Who were six and three? Luckily, I had a good friend who lived a couple of blocks away from me who agreed to watch my little girls if I would babysit their daughter during the Spring Holidays and all Summer. And that is what I did for the next four years until I graduated from Temple University, Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia at forty-one. The only student of non-traditional age. Those four years at Tyler were stressful and exciting; I have always looked back at that time as a success. I graduated at the top of my class Magnum Cum Laude with two degrees and teaching credentials. The final reward was that my graduating class gave me a standing ovation when I received my diploma.

And then I got some bad news: Communities all over the area had stopped funding elementary and high school art classes. I have to say that it was a devastating ending to my teaching art in public schools.

That was when I decided to look for a big house with many rooms where we could live, and I would have plenty of space to teach both children and adults. We found a beautiful old house built in 1910. It had been empty for eight years. It was in great need of repair, both inside and out, including a new roof, new heater and air conditioner, and on and on. But my husband and I decided this was the house for us. It was perfect because it had three rooms that had been used by the previous owner, who was a doctor. We attended an open house and decided to buy it. And the rest is history. We could not sell our smaller home and ended up renting it until we could find a buyer. The rent went towards the outstanding mortgage payments until it was paid off.

Our New plus 110-year-old house, although neglected for many years, was a dream come true. Over the twenty-four years we lived there, we renovated the house from top to bottom, redid the hardwood floors throughout, repaired and replaced the roof, and painted the wrought iron fence. In fact, by the time we finished all the work, it was almost time for us to retire.

When I advertised the Grand Opening of “THE ART ROOM. “ This was in 1994.I had an open house. Almost all the people that lived in Pitman came to see our home. Over those many years, I taught everyone from the age of five to senior citizens, including my next-door neighbors, Marie and Bob Batten, a retired dentist and his wife. We became close friends with them over the twenty-four years that we lived in Pitman. Practically everyone in town came to our Grand Opening since they wanted to see what it looked like. The previous owners kept to themselves for the most part, save for the previous owners who used to see the Doctor who owned the house for whatever ailments these people suffered.

In the ensuing years, I taught art to people of every age and had the pleasure of meeting their families. As the years flew by, I realized that once Bob and I retired, we would not be able to afford to live in Pitman or anywhere in New Jersey, as we were paying $40,000 a year on real estate taxes.

So, it was with a heavy heart that we put our house up for sale and started looking at the South for a place to retire. After several weeks of investigating what state would be our best place to retire, we decided that North Carolina was definitely an option. We made plans to drive to North Carolina and see if we were making the best decision. And so, here we are nine years later, retired and living in North Carolina. Retired.

After we got settled here at our new home, I decided that I was going to look for a volunteer job so that I could continue contributing and make a difference. I decided that since I had spent the last twenty years teaching art or working as a counselor in Social Services positions at Ranch Hope. It was located in Alloway, NJ. I was caring for and supervising at-risk male youth who were adjudicated by the courts to live there until they reached eighteen. I worked there for five years. It was not an easy job, nor did it have great hours. In addition, I was the first woman hired to work with these boys, and until that time, it was all me. After they realized that I was quite capable of counseling these boys and keeping them, for the most part, out of trouble. More women were hired.

For the most part, I would say my time working was the most rewarding position I ever held. I came to love all those boys with my whole heart.

In addition, after I left Ranch Hope, I worked for the Center for Family Services in Camden, New Jersey. I worked with five of the churches in Camden, matching adults from the churches to mentor the at-risk youth who grew up with one or more of their parents being incarcerated. I worked there for several years. And I came to love the people who lived in the city, a city that was often in turmoil because of drugs and violence. I usually had to visit the parents of these at-risk kids in their homes in center-city Camden. It was not a safe place.
Nonetheless, I found that their parents were good people who wanted the best for their children. At times, I had to visit one of their parents in the prison where they were incarcerated to talk to the parents about our programs for their children. I have to say I was somewhat afraid at first to go to all these prisons, but over time, I realized that these were just human beings who made mistakes in their lives. Some huge mistakes, like murder, drug dealing, etc. Nonetheless, they loved their children and hoped and prayed for a better life for their children. I made every effort to be respectful to those who were incarcerated. Yes, they were flawed humans, but they were still people who had difficult choices and few opportunities in life. However, as a whole, they all wanted their children to have better lives than they had experienced. It was an experience that gave me more empathy and understanding of people who make poor choices in their lives. And we’re paying a high price for their mistakes. And unless you or I have experienced growing up in a ghetto, in poverty, just trying to get from one day to the next, we can’t possibly know what their lives have been like. And we can’t compare their lives to their own.

I have learned a great deal about life from my experiences, and I regret nothing I have seen or experienced. I had the opportunity to work with Wilson Good, the former mayor of Philadelphia—the first black Mayor of a major city in the United States.

I am retired and living in North Carolina, but I have volunteered at Animal Edventure, an animal sanctuary in Coats, NC, for the past eight years. I take care of birds. Yes, that is a big, giant step from working with at-risk youth, but I’ve been an animal lover for as far back as I can remember.

I don’t know what the future will hold for me, but I know I’m not one to sit in front of the TV all day watching soap operas. I look forward to whatever adventure comes my way.

DON’T WAKE UP YOUR FATHER

1 Reply

Life can throw you a ball way out in left field. And you may never know what hit you. As for me, life sent me a curve ball right off the bat. My mother was blessed with many children during her life. She was married to the same man for over fifty years. Throughout her marriage, she gave birth to ten children. Six of them survived. When she was forty-one years old, she began to have symptoms of morning sickness. She couldn’t believe she was pregnant again. Every morning, she woke up feeling sick, and sometimes, she felt ill all day and night. She couldn’t believe she was going to have another child.
When she went to the doctor for the blood test, she was informed that she was indeed pregnant again. And the doctor was thrilled to tell her she would have twins again. This time it was a set of twin boys, who were named Stephen and Gerard. After the school that Harry, my father, grew up in. It was the Gerard College. He didn’t get out until he was sixteen years old. His mother was a window and couldn’t stay home to care for Harry. And he only saw her once a year on Christmas until he graduated from Gerard College and got a job.

My Dear Mother

Marie’s (my mother’s) youngest children at the time were seven and eight. Her twin babies were toddlers, and she had been sure that changing diapers and feeding baby bottles were a thing of the past. All her kids were old enough to attend school or had graduated from high school except the twin girls. Her oldest son was attending a University and hoped to be a psychologist shortly. Her oldest daughter was married recently, had moved out of state, and was starting her own family.

She thought life was going to get much easier soon. What with all the children being of school age or in college or moved away in the distant future. She hoped none of them would get married shortly because she didn’t want to start caring for grandchildren. She was content with all the children either in school or living independently. She wanted nothing more than to say her rosary, read a book, take a walk, visit her friends and neighbors, and share a cuppa of tea or coffee with one of her church lady friends. She changed her share of diapers and helped the older children with homework.

Oridnarily her husband, Hugh(Harry) would work the late shift at his job. He worked third shift at the PTC Bus Company in Philadelphia as a dispatcher until he was 62, retirement age.. He had been working there for almost thirty years. He slept during the day, and he worked the night shift. All the children had to keep quiet lest they wake up their father, and nobody wanted that since he was an awful grouch when he was awakened during the day.

In fact, he was rarely in a good mood. When the kids arrived home from school, they were warned to keep it down. And don’t ever wake up your father, or you will regret it. As a result, the younger kids would get home from school and change their clothes. Then, they would go out to play until dinnertime. By then, their father would have gone to work, and it was safe to turn on the TV. And then Marie would get dinner started.

Susan Culver- high school graduation picture

Marie was a quiet woman and didn’t talk often. But, she was a good listener to all her children. She had a big heart and always had a kind word to say about everyone. She had worked hard all her life and never complained. When her youngest children ( my twin sister and I) were in high school, Marie got a job working in the kitchen at Wanamaker’s restaurant at the Moorestown Mall in New Jersey. She was working because her two youngest daughters( my sister and I ) attended a private, all-girls Catholic High School in Haddonfield, NJ. It was called Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy. And the tuition was relatively high. Marie never complained, no matter how tired or worn out she was. When she got home from work, after taking the bus from Moorestown, NJ, to home, Marie was exhausted and on her feet all day. She was sixty-two years old.. But, she would have to go home, get dinner ready, and do a load of washing. Yet, she still never complained. Her husband, Harry, was already at his night job and wouldn’t be home until late. He was only home for meals on his days off, except for Sunday morning when he was home. He would help Marie by making the toast. In contrast, she cooked breakfast for everyone and cleaned the kitchen and the old stove.

My father.

Still, I know my parents did their best and loved each of us in their own way. From the outside, my family and my childhood were typical of every other child my age who lived in Maple Shade in the 1950s. My mother stayed at home in our early childhood until we graduated from elementary school and entered high school. My father somehow maintained a life of his own to some degree. In addition to working full-time at SEPTA, the bus company where he worked, he worked part-time at Johnny Marrow auto supply store on his days off. The Morrow lived over the auto-supply store. It was a small apartment. My father was a hard-working man, and I rarely saw him because of his sleeping during the day on account of his working nights. And then, on his days off, he worked a part-time job. In addition, my father played the horses at Cherry Hill race tract, and he played cards for money. He had a life that was somewhat disconnected from his family life. Still, I loved my father more than I could ever express, and I wanted nothing more than to feel that he loved me back. Somehow, I believed he did love me but did not know or have the ability to express his love to me or my fellow siblings in any concrete way.

The experience that firmly assured me that my father indeed loved me occurred when I was twenty- years old, and I had been working full-time as a dental assistant for three years. I found a one-bedroom apartment in Haddonfield, New Jersey, somewhat coincidentally, as I also attended high school in Haddonfield at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy. It was a beautiful town where primarily wealthy people lived. While I lived there, I made it a habit to visit the Haddonfield Library, which was within walking distance of my little one-bedroom apartment. In addition, I could walk downtown and visit all the beautiful little shops. I often walked by St. Mary’s, which brought back many memories, mostly good.

After I moved to my apartment, my father paid me an unexpected visit. Luckily, I was home. He came in and looked all around and said very little to me. I could see he missed me and didn’t understand why I moved away from home. As a parent of grown children, I now understand how he felt. I feel sorrow if I hurt my parents by moving away, but at the time, I thought it was necessary for me to become independent and reliant on myself.

Not long after, my oldest friend Joan Gioiella contacted me and asked me if I was interested in going out with her boy cousin, and I said yes. He was visiting his extended family in New Jersey, who lived in Philadelphia, Pa. And some that lived in New Jersey. And that my friends were the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I went out with her cousin, and over time, we wrote back and forth with each other for quite a long time. And before you knew it, I had decided that I was going to move to Florida to be near Bob.

Me and my siblings years ago.

So, I packed up all my belongings that could fit in my almost brand-new 1970s Volkswagon and went on my merry way by car and auto train to West Palm Beach, Florida. Bob had found an apartment for me, and my friends were the beginning of a new chapter in my life. That chapter would take me across the country to California, and that is a whole new chapter. You can only imagine how distraught my parents were when I moved so far away from home.

FALL IS THE SEASON

1 Reply

Fall in New Jersey at our previous home

Fall weather is a balance between summer’s heat and winter’s cold, with cool mornings and warm afternoons. The cooler temperatures are good for your health, and fall is also less humid than other seasons.

It was the last fall that I had experienced for a long time. I grew up in New Jersey and lived there until I was twenty-two. That is when I moved to Florida. Fall was my absolute favorite time of the year. The long, hot, and humid Summer was over. And I looked forward to the cooler weather. And, I so looked forward to the changing of leaves on the trees. Of course, moving to Florida meant no more wonderful fall weather and no more changing of the trees to fall’s beautiful orange and yellow colors.

When I was a child, I absolutely loved Summertime. The main reason was that I no longer had to attend school. I attended Catholic grade school at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight years in Maple Shade, NJ. Then I attended St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy Catholic High School in Haddonfield, NJ. For four years the last day of school was a day to celebrate for the teachers as well as the students.

Fall announced the beginning of the school year. I can not tell a lie, and I did not enjoy grade school at all. I made many friends while I attended school, but the regiment was the “dear nuns.” I did not enjoy that at all. But, despite that Fall also meant I had to return to school, it also brought the cool weather and the turning of the tree’s leaves to all their magnificent colors. I absolutely loved it. I would ride all over town on my bike and often rode my bike to Strawbridge Lake. In the winter, my friends and I would ice-skate on the frozen Lake. For the rest of the year, we would walk or ride our bikes to the lake and have picnics there. We would also watch the fishermen. We would walk across the waterfall, which was a No-No, but nonetheless, we would all dare each other to cross over to the other side. We would often spend the whole day there. My parents never asked where we were all day, as long as we got home in time for lunch. They never had any idea what we were up to.

Fall is almost the perfect season because it has everything we want and needs to end happily and begin again. Embrace the change and embrace Fall! Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday, after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade. Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday, after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade.

To top that all off, we would go out trick or treating all over town. And we carried bags to put all the candy into each time we knocked at someone’s house and yelled, “Trick or Treat” at the top of our lungs. I went out with all my girlfriends and the neighborhood boys. And once our bags(pillowcases) were full, we would all return to our homes and dump the candy on the kitchen table. And then, we would go out again until we had filled the bags at least twice.

And let me tell you something: there was no one that had a bigger sweet tooth than me. In fact, I believe the whole Boomer Generation had sweet tooths. Because this was back in the days when there were stores that sold penny candy. And if you had a quarter, you could get twenty-five pieces of candy. I kid you not. Our neighborhood candy store was called Schucks. The Schuck family owned it.

I would spend a day walking up and down Main Street, looking for a change that people had dropped. And sure enough, I always found some change. And no sooner did I see it than I would make my way to Schuck’s. Mrs. Schuck’s family owned the store. And it had a large candy counter with every kind of candy you could imagine. Mrs. Schuck knew all the names of the kids who lived in Maple Shade, where I grew up. She would patiently stand there while I would tell her what candy I wanted, and then she would put them all in a brown paper bag. And I would hand her all my change, which most often was pennies or, if I was lucky, nickels.

In addition to selling penny candy, Schucks had a luncheon counter and made milkshakes, sodas, and hoagies. There was also a separate room for teenagers to play records and dance with one another. I used to watch them from the other side of the swinging doors. I wondered if I would ever get old enough to dance in there when I got bigger. But by the time I became a teenager, Schucks no longer existed.

Oh, the fifties were a wonderful time for us baby boomers. We had almost total freedom. As long as we came home on time for dinner. And, of course, in the Summer, we were free to roam all over town or as far as we could go on our bicycles. I don’t remember my mother ever telling me not to eat all that candy. It’s a wonder that I had a tooth left in my mouth that didn’t have a cavity.

In fifth grade, I developed an abscessed tooth because of all the sweets I ate and the fact that I didn’t always brush my teeth very often. After my parents took me to the dentist, and he read the riot act to them after examining my decayed teeth. He didn’t yell at me, but he should have. But, as a result, my parents, mainly my mother, stood there twice a day and watched me brush my teeth. And from that time forward, I went to a dentist for a check-up once a year.

And although we all loved the Fall, we looked forward to the winter as well. Not only could we go ice skating on Strawbridge Lake, but we would also play in the snow for hours and hours, no matter how cold it was. We only went home if our gloves became too wet, and we had to put on different gloves and new socks to keep them from freezing in our wet boots. We would build igloos and snow men in all our yards. We would sled on the frozen sidewalks and snow until our hands and faces felt as if they were frozen.

Our childhood was a magical time for all of us. We had unlimited freedom. Not only that, it was a time of innocence when our parents didn’t worry about Stranger Danger. That didn’t happen until my children were born in the early 1980s, and we all became paranoid.

When I was a child, I loved Summertime. The main reason was that I no longer had to attend school. I attended Catholic grade school at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight years in Maple Shade, NJ. Then, I attended St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy Catholic High School in Haddonfield, NJ. For four years, the last day of school was for the teachers and the students to celebrate.

Fall announced the beginning of the school year. I can not lie, and I did not enjoy grade school. I made many friends while I attended school, but the regiment was the “dear nuns.” I did not enjoy that at all. But, despite that Fall also meant I had to return to school, it also brought the cool weather and the turning of the trees’ leaves to all their magnificent colors. I absolutely loved it. I would ride all over town on my bike and often rode my bike to Strawbridge Lake. In the winter, my friends and I would ice skate on the frozen Lake. For the rest of the year, we would walk or ride our bikes to the lake and have picnics there. We would also watch the fishermen. We would walk across the waterfall, which was a No-No, but nonetheless, we would all dare each other to cross over to the other side. We would often spend the whole day there. My parents never asked where we were all day until we got home in time for lunch. They never had any idea what we were up to.

Fall is almost the perfect season because it has everything we want and needs to end happily and begin again. Embrace the change and embrace Fall! Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday is after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade. Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday, after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade.

And let me tell you something: there was no one that had a bigger sweet tooth than me. In fact, I believe the whole Boomer Generation had sweet tooths. This was back in the days when stores sold penny candy, and if you had a quarter, you could get twenty-five pieces of candy. I kid you not. Our neighborhood candy store was called Schucks. The Schuck family owned it.

Oh, the fifties were a wonderful time for us baby boomers. We had almost total freedom as long as we came home on time for dinner. And, of course, in the Summer, we were free to roam all over town or as far as we could go on our bicycles. I remember my mother telling me not to eat all that candy. It’s a wonder that I had a tooth left in my mouth that didn’t have a cavity.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

LIFE AS I HAVE KNOW IT

1 Reply

I have reached a point in my life when most of my years are behind me and few in front of me. As a result, I have begun reflecting on what I should do with my remaining years, barring unforeseen health issues or unexpected events like getting run over by a car.

I believe that I have lived an interesting life; I’m not famous or rich. However, I have lived my life based on setting certain behavior standards and meeting my goals. In addition, I have made decisions in my life that I felt would benefit my future in some way. Be it big or small. As I reflect on all the years I have lived and what I have accomplished over those years, I feel I have accomplished a great deal considering my background and the times that I grew up in from the early fifties through the 1970s to our present time.

I was born in the early 1950’s. I was part of the Baby Boomer Generation. We were preceded by the Silent Generation and followed by Generation X. I am not, nor will I ever be, either rich or famous. I have never set goals for myself that would enable me to become rich or famous. And that fact does not bother me in the least. I have met many people over my lifetime who have been wealthy, and some have been famous. They did not seem any more content with their lives than I did. I have to admit that, for the most part, I am proud of my accomplishments over the past 73 years, big or poor. I haven’t let fear get in my way. And that is saying a lot because I was a shy and quiet child who came from a large family.

But let me digress for a moment and give you some of my background. My sister and I were fraternal twins born in 1951. We had four older siblings. My oldest siblings were nineteen and twenty years older than us. My subsequent siblings, two sisters, were eight and seven years older than myself and my twin. They might as well have been lightyears ahead of us since there was a significant age gap when we were seven and starting grade school.

I attended twelve years of Catholic School. My elementary school was less than a block from our childhood home, and the Catholic Church was a mere two houses away from where I grew up in Maple Shade, New Jersey. Going to twelve years of Catholic School had a profound effect on me. When I was attending grade school, we had St. Joseph nuns teaching us. It taught me self-control since not following the directions of the “dear” sisters often had painful consequences. And those consequences were often painful, physically and psychologically. Since the dear sisters were not beyond rapping our small and fragile hands with wooden rulers with metal edges on them, and if that didn’t work, you would be sent to the front of the classroom, where they would bang your head into the blackboard. And worse, they would demean and diminish you by telling you you were stupid.

To some extent, I understand why we were disciplined this way. That was because the classes were overcrowded due to the sheer number of kids in the class, which could be sixty or more. When I was in first grade, there were three first-grade classes because of the number of students entering first grade. My sister and I were required to stay after school and help clear up after the other students. I never questioned why we had to do it, but in retrospect, I suppose the school reduced the cost of the school tuition by having students do physical labor. I also had to go to the convent where the nuns lived on Saturdays and work. My job was cleaning the storage room where the nuns’ food supplies were stored. My sister had to iron the church vestments.

I have to admit I did not put too much effort into studying when I was going to elementary school. But, somehow, I did pass and move forward to Catholic High School. Anyone who wanted to attend Catholic High School had to take a test to get in. There were two Catholic Schools to choose from in our area. We had to take an entrance exam to be accepted into the Catholic High School. I passed both tests and was accepted at St. Mary of the Angels Academy, which was an all-girl School, and Holy Cross High School, where my two older sisters had attended. Somehow, I passed both of them. My parents decided that we would attend the Girl’s School. Because they wanted to keep us from intermingling with boys. I wasn’t particularly interested in boys at that time, so I didn’t care one way or the other. Boys at that time, so I didn’t care one way or the other.

And so my sister and I attended four years of all-girl school at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy. It was a college prep school, more challenging than a public high school or Holy Cross High School. My parent’s goal was to keep us away and safe from boys during our adolescence so we wouldn’t get pregnant. They were unaware of my lack of interest in boys at that time. Over time, in my late teens and early twenties, I eventually became interested in dating,

I had my first boyfriend when I was twenty-one, David Gatelein. It didn’t last long since we had little in common. He had recently been released from the military with some emotional or mental issues due to fighting in the Vietnam War that I wasn’t aware of for quite a while.

After about a year of dating him, he broke off with me. I was somewhat upset, but I got over it since I hadn’t fallen in love or made any real connection with him. And we had very little in common since the only thing he cared about was sailing and drinking beer. And I didn’t drink and. I didn’t even know how to swim. And that was the end of him.

Not long after that, my best friend invited me over to meet her boy cousin, who just exited the Navy Reserve. His immediate family lived in Florida. And he was visiting all his cousins before he returned home. We hit it off, and after he returned to his home in Florida, we began writing back and forth. Eventually, I decided that this was a person I wanted to be a part of my life. And eventually, we moved to Florida and found a job and an apartment, and after some time passed by, we decided to get married. During my vacation in Florida, I attended the Florida Beauty Academy and earned a license in hairdressing. I’m not sure why I decided to do that since I never had any desire to cut hair or style hair. But, I suppose I thought it would provide an income for us while he was going to school. And it did, over the years, provide additional income.

Of course, many things happened over those fifty years. After we were married, Bob decided he wanted to attend Brooks Institute in California. It was a school that taught photography. While he went to school, I worked full-time. My first job was selling hats and wigs at Robinson’s Department Store. And I there was a more boring job than that I can’t imagine what it would be. I worked there for a year until one of the girls that I met at Robinsons told me about a school for mentally handicapped children. She said they were looking for reliable women to work with the kids; she was volunteering there. She gave me a reference, and I called St. Vincent’s every day for two weeks until they agreed to interview me. Eventually, they did, and after filling out an application and being interviewed by several people, I was hired as a counselor. I worked there for two years. And I loved every minute of it. I can’t describe how much I came to love those kids. I took care of girls ages twelve to seventeen. And I came to love those kids like they were my own.

After Bob graduated from Brooks Institute, we decided to move back to the New Jersey, Philadelphia area, where Bob thought he had a better chance to find employment. Unfortunately, there weren’t any photography opportunities at that time. He was employed at RCA in Princeton, NJ, as an electronic technician for two years. Until he was hired at GE, he was hired as an engineer lab supervisor for fifteen years.

We had two children, three years apart. And eventually moved from our house in Pennsauken, NJ, to a large home in Pitman, NJ. It had been empty for eight years and was in need of a new roof, new heater, and refrigerator and stove. We spent years updating and redecorating the house. It was 5.000 square feet and was three stories high with two large basements and a two-car garage. We painted the shutters for the fifty-five windows it had and had the house painted. I did all the gardening and took care of the house in general. Bob did all the heavy work. After approximately one year, I opened my own business called The Art Room, where I taught Art to children in the afternoon and adults in the evening. I used the three rooms that had been used by the doctor who lived in the house previous to us. We came to love our house. And we lived there for 24 years.

When we were getting close to retirement age, we realized that the real estate taxes increased every year because of the cost of keeping up this large home. And we knew we could not continue living in our house once we retired. So, with a heavy heart, we put our beautiful home up for sale. It took almost eight months to sell it since most people in the area could not afford such a large house or the taxes to live there. Eventually, a lawyer and his wife, a nurse, made an offer for our house, and we accepted it. They had several children, and the lawyer’s sister was also moving in with them. The house had four bedrooms. And offices, as I mentioned earlier. The day we packed up all our belongings and went to the settlement was one of the most challenging days of my life. I can not tell you how much I loved that home, but we could never retire if we stayed there. So, we went to the settlement, signed away our house, and headed toward the home we had purchased in North Carolina. We have been living here for almost nine years. We live in a quiet neighborhood where everyone keeps to themselves. I still miss all the friends that I had in Pitman, New Jersey. I miss our small town where our kids went to school, and I knew so many of the children and their parents who I came to know through The Art Room. Those were wonderful years with great friends and neighbors, and we were so lucky to have the opportunity to spend our middle years there. I have no regrets.

My husband, my younger daughter, and I live in a small development in Willow Spring with our two dogs, one cat, and ten birds. Oh, I forgot to mention how much I have always loved small children and animals.

Finally, I would like to say that I have had a blessed life and many good times. I have had my share of losses. My older sibling passed away, my beautiful oldest sister, Jeanie, who died of emphysema when she was forty-one, and my oldest sibling, my brother, Hugh, who was a psychologist who passed away five years ago. I am lucky to have still my sister, Eileen, my sister, Liz, and my fraternal twin, Karen, who all live in New Jersey. I also have many nieces and nephews and great-nieces and nephews.

I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary for the past nine years, caring for parrots, doves, and finches. Over two hundred animals reside there. The sanctuary is located in Coats, NC, on Live Oak Road. If you ever have the opportunity to visit, please do.

I do not know how much longer I will live in this world, but I do know that I plan to make the most of the time I have left. I will always love animals and continue to create art and gardens. Life is short, so make the most of it. Treat people the way you want to be treated. Live your life to the fullest. Try to find something that makes you happy each day. Life goes by so quickly.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

STICKY FINGERS

1 Reply

As far back as I can remember, I had an uncontrollable impulse to steal. And I’m talking about when I was young, perhaps seven or eight years old. At first, it was nickels and dimes. If my mother, father, sisters, or brothers left their wallet or purse in sight, I would shove nickels, dimes, and quarters in my pockets. Then I would walk down to the 5+10 store and buy cheap toys, like puzzles, crayons, or barrettes for my hair. I didn’t buy them because I didn’t have any. It was because I wanted more. I never seemed to be satisfied with what I already had; I always wanted more and more. And that wasn’t just cheap toys; it also included going to the candy store and buying candy. I was just never satisfied. I always wanted more. I’m surprised that I have most of my teeth after all the candy I ate when I was six or up.

I used to walk up and down Main Street and search for coins or dollar bills that someone had carelessly dropped on the sidewalk. I almost always found some. If I didn’t see any coins on the sidewalk downtown, I would go to our church, go up and down the pews, and pick up all the loose change I found. And I never felt an ounce of guilt.

I also had other expenses that I had to consider. And going to the movies every Saturday afternoon was one of those. It was called the Roxy Theater, and almost every Saturday, there was a new movie. But, even if I had seen the film before, I would have gone to see it again. I just loved going to the movies. All the kids in our small town went to the Saturday Matinee. We would all bring our lunches, which always included a dessert. My mother made a different cake every Saturday. I can not tell you how much I loved my mother’s homemade cakes. They were so delicious. I would have been as big as a house if I wasn’t such an active kid. But I was very active; I roller skated, and I rode my bike from one town to another. I walked to Strawbridge Lake at least once a week when the weather was good. And it was a good three miles away from my hometown. And then, I was out playing with my friends every day until dark at night during the summer. And, of course, while I was riding or walking all over town, I looked for lost coins. I was more than willing to do chores for our neighbors if they paid me. My father- 1960's

Once I could earn money, I stopped looking for lost money or someone else’s lost coins. And when the time came when I was old enough to babysit my nieces and nephews, I was paid for my time, and I didn’t resort to looking for lost coins on my mother’s change. What ultimately stopped me from looking for lost change and searching the church for coins happened when I was in the fifth grade, and I developed a toothache while in school. And it wasn’t just an ache that hurt once in a while; it was a god-awful abscess due to my constant candy addiction and not brushing my teeth every day. My mother told me to brush my teeth, but I rarely did.

As a result, one day, in the fourth grade, I developed a horrible toothache. In fact, it was an abscessed tooth; I failed to tell my mother or father about it because I was afraid of going to the dentist. However, this abscess was so painful that I started to cry in my classroom, and I told Sister Joseph Catherine, my teacher, that I had a horrible toothache. She didn’t believe me right away, but eventually, she decided I was telling the truth, and the school called my parents and told them that I needed to see a dentist. We only lived two houses from the school, so it was a short walk home. When I got home, I found that my mother and father had contacted a dentist in Philadelphia, and they had made an appointment for me that day. And off we went to the dentist. Well, it turned out that that m tooth was abscessed and had to be pulled. My parents were distraught. They blamed themselves. But it was my fault for eating all the sweets and not brushing my teeth. I was a very stubborn kid. And didn’t always do what I was told or what was good for me. I was quiet for the most part, and I don’t think my parents realized how stubborn and mule-headed I was.

So, we were off to the dentist, who informed my parents that not only did I have an abscessed tooth, but many of my teeth had cavities. And I need a lot of work done. My parents were informed that they needed to observe me brushing my teeth three times daily and cut out all the candy and cakes I ate. And suggested that fruit would be a better snack for me. And I needed to brush my teeth three times a day and go to the dentist at least once a year.

Mom, sitting at the kitchen table,

After that, my mother would come into the bathroom with me after every meal and observe me brush my teeth. Both of my parents had dentures, and they didn’t want me to end up the way they did without teeth. When they were kids, they did not have the opportunity to go to the dentist. My father grew up in an orphanage called “Gerard College.” Where boys with no living fathers grew up, my mother was the youngest of many siblings, and there was no money to pay a dentist. It was a challenge to feed all the members of her family. My mother was born in 1910. My father was born in 1911. his father had passed away, and his mother had to work, so she put him in “Gerard College, and he didn’t leave until he was age. He only saw his mother once a year. He had a difficult and lovely childhood. My father became a bus driver, and my mother met him when she took the bus, and he was the driver. They proceeded to have six children, and two that didn’t survive. They were married in 1929.

My parents did not have an easy life or marriage. My mother was one of the kindest people I ever knew, and my father cared in his own way, although he could be difficult. I loved my parents deeply and couldn’t imagine having any other parents. And the only regret I ever had was that my parents didn’t live longer lives. My father died in 1986 from lung cancer, he was a long-time smoker, My mother died one year later, from congestive heart failure, I believe her heart broke when my father passed away. They didn’t have a perfect life, but they did the best they could. They died almost forty years ago, and I still miss them to this day. I would give anything to see them one more time. I do not know if there is heaven, but I hope there is one because I would love to see my dear mother and dad again. Even if it was for just a minute. I feel I was blessed with the parents I had and the life they gave me. They worked hard every day and were a blessing to me. And there isn’t a day when I don’t miss them. As for my sticky fingers, once I stopped eating candy and sweets, I no longer had the sticky fingers, and to this day. And I made it a practice to work hard, earn my own money, and never take anything that wasn’t mine. The fact is, I found that working hard and paying my way in life had been bigger blessings than any amount of money or sweets I had ever eaten. And I have to say that my parents were the best example of hard-working and honest people. And I believe they would be proud of my accomplishments if they were still living, including attending Temple University when I was thirty-six and graduating at the top of my class at forty-one years old with two degrees.

My husband, Bob, and myself with my two adult children when we lived in Pitman, NJ

I have been married for fifty years and raised two intelligent and gifted children. I went to college when I was thirty-six and graduated with two degrees and teaching credentials when I was forty-one,. I started my own” The Art Room” business and taught art to children and adults for many years. Here I am, retired and living in North Carolina. I am far from the shy girl I was as a child, and I do not let anything or anyone stand in the way of the things I want to accomplish. I don’t know how much longer I will be in this life, but I promise you this: I will always do my best, work as hard as I can, and accomplish every challenge that comes my way.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Users who liked this:

YOU NEVER KNOW WHERE LIFE WILL TAKE YOU

Leave a reply

At the end of May, I celebrated my seventy-third birthday. That’s right, I’m seventy-three years old. It is almost impossible to believe that many years have flown by so quickly. Nonetheless, that is the reality that I’m facing at this time of my life.

I remember quite clearly when my parents were that age. I recall when my father retired from his long-time job at PTC or SEPTA, which stands for the Pennsylvania Transportation Company. He was the head dispatcher for over forty years. He had started out as a bus driver. And he often mentioned to me how much he loved that job. However, his mother, Elizabeth, insisted that he apply for an office position at SEPTA since she believed it was a position where he could move up the Corporate Ladder. He apparently didn’t feel like he had much choice since his mother was a strong-willed woman who would always get her way. As it turned out, he did as she requested, and he ended up working in that office position for the rest of his working career. His mother ended up living in a nursing home in the last years of her life.

I have a vague memory of meeting my paternal grandmother when she was living in that nursing home. My sister and I were given a long strip of tape with pennies stuck on it. I was thrilled because I looked forward to spending all those pennies at Shucks (a candy store) on Main Street in the town I grew up in, Maple Shade. That was the only time I ever saw her.

I was thirty-six when my father passed away, and a year later, my mother passed. She was seventy-six, and I was thirty-seven when my dear mother passed away from congestive heart failure. I always believed her heart broke when my father died. I spent the last few years of my parent’s lives taking care of them and taking care of my two young children, who were then five and two. My father died of lung cancer. My mother had congestive heart failure.

I can not put into words how deeply I missed my parents and how I grieved for their loss for many years. In fact, it has been thirty-four years since they died, and I still think about them almost every day since then. My parents worked hard and tried to give their children the best life possible. There were six of us. There was a significant age gap between us; my brother, Harry, was twenty years older than me, and my sister, Karen. My oldest sister, Jeanette, was nineteen years older, and Eileen and Liz were eight and seven years older than Karen and I.

So here I am, seventy-three years old, retired, and living in North Carolina. At some point after my mother passed away, I decided that I was going to experience a life that was challenging and interesting. But I also decided I wanted children. At the grand old age of thirty, I had my oldest daughter, Jeanette, and three years later, my daughter, Bridget.

When I was thirty-six, I decided to go to college. I applied to several universities in Philadelphia. I had to write a resume and prepare an art portfolio with my work, paintings, and drawings. I was accepted at all the Universities I applied to. I decided to attend Temple University because they offered me a scholarship for the first year.

This was a challenging decision for me to make, not only was I married, and had a home to take care of but, I had two small children who were six and three years old. And the only money I had was the $900.00 my parents left me after they passed. Each of my siblings received the same amount. And the remainder of my parent’s money went to the cost of their funerals when they passed away.

Tyler School of Art

Before my mother passed away, she told me that I should not put my own needs and ambitions before everyone else’s. If I had a desire to do something, no matter how challenging, I should go for it. And that is exactly what I did.

And so, at the ripe old age of thirty-six, I entered The Tyler School of Art as a Freshman. I can not tell you how many of the students mistook me for a teacher since there was almost twenty years difference between them and myself. Over time, all the students realized that although I was older than them, I was committed to learning as much as I could, and I dedicated every free moment of my life to learning all I could. I always had my assignment on time, I never missed a day of class in four years. And I made it my business to get to know every student I came in contact with a friend.

The professors and teachers at Tyler made it a habit of always calling on me first. In a short time, they realized that I always read the required reading, and my assignments were always completed and handed in on the day they were due. Since my work was always done on time, all the teachers used my artwork, be it outstanding or not, which was the subject of criticism by both the teachers and the students.

I have to say that my decision to go to college at the ripe old age of thirty-six was a good one. And I’ve never regretted it for a moment. I made many friends at Tyler, including some of the teachers. It was the biggest challenge I took in my life, aside from becoming a parent to two children. I didn’t take any summer classes since my children were not in school during the summer. So, I spent all my free time with them. I even babysat my friend and neighbor’s child, who lived several blocks away from us. And she worked full-time.

When I finally completed college and graduated at the top of my class with a 4.0 average and Magnum cum laude and teaching credentials. I have to admit it was one of the most challenging things I ever accomplished. After graduating, I spent many months looking for an art teacher’s position in public and private schools. At some point, I realized that art was being removed from the elementary and high school curriculum, and there weren’t any jobs. This was after I sent my resume to every public and private school in Philadelphia and New Jersey area. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was at the time. I had spent four years of my life in art school at Temple University, only to realize that art classes were no longer taught at the elementary, middle, and high school levels. It appeared as if these programs were no longer funded.

Our Home in Pitman, NJ, and The Art Room, where I taught art for many years to children and adults

After a time, I decided that somehow, somehow, I was going to create my opportunity to teach art. And I did, At the time, were owned a small home in Pennsauken, NJ. I decided to start looking for a larger home, an older home where I could teach art. One day, I found an advertisement for a house for sale in Pitman, NJ. And my husband and I went to the open house. And I knew in a moment that this was the answer to my prayers. It was a big house with three floors and a separate section used by its previous owner as an office. The house had been unoccupied for eight years. And so far noone had made an offer on it.

The day that we went to the open house, I knew this house was the answer to my prayers. The section of the house that had been used for an office had three rooms and two large storage areas. My husband and I talked to the realtor and found out that the house had been unoccupied for at least eight years. And it needed a new roof asap. I didn’t let this stop me. We sold our house in Pennsauken with a rent-to-buy option. And then we made an offer on the house in Pitman, and it was accepted. We moved to the Pitman house in mid-winter. And we spent the next several years improving, painting, and putting a new roof on the house when the weather allowed. I can’t tell you how much work this involved, but it took years. After we setteled in I started advertising all of the town of Pitman, and nearby towns about about Art classed being available for children during the day, and adults in the earling evening. It was slow in the beginning, but over time, it picked up momentum, and I taught art to children, adolescents, and adults for many years. We lived there for twenty-four years. I cannot tell you how much I came to love Pitman, our home, and the people who lived there. Unfortunately, at one point, we could no longer obtain insurance to cover our house and the students who attended my classes, and we had to close down The Art Room. So, at this point, we decided to put up our house for sale and retire.

Our home in NC.

And that, my friends, is when my husband and I retired and moved to North Carolina, and we have been there ever since. You never know what challenges you will face in life. But my advice is never to lose faith in yourself and never be afraid to accept a challenge, no matter how difficult it may seem. Keep moving forward in life, and don’t let anyone or anything keep you from accomplishing what you want to achieve in life. Don’t ever lose faith in yourself. At my age, seventy- three I get up first thing in the morning, put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving forward. I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary for eight almost nine years, and I have been writing this blog for eight years, writing short fictional stories and memoirs. I don’t know what I’ll do next, but I have no fear: I will be doing something exciting and challenging from this moment in my life to my last breath. Never give up on yourself or your ability to accomplish every challenge that comes your way.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

DOUBLE THE TROUBLE AND DOUBLE THE BLESSINGS

1 Reply

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-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 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

Leave a reply

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.

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

Leave a reply

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

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.

Users who liked this:

HAPPINESS

1 Reply

Have you ever contemplated the things in life that bring you happiness? Some people think they would be happy if they had unlimited money and could buy anything they wanted.

Well, I have never been rich, nor do I believe that I will suddenly be endowed with a tremendous amount of money at any time in the future. And to tell the truth, from my own experience, things do not bring you happiness for long. I have lived a long time, and for the most part, I found happiness is not a result of an expensive car, a trip around the world, or unlimited funds.

What brought me happiness in my life was setting goals for myself and then achieving those goals through my own hard work and efforts. What were my goals over my lifetime, you may ask? The first goal I set for myself was to get married, have children, and own our own house. When I was thirty-four, my husband and I purchased a small home in Pennsauken, NJ. After years of trying to have children at thirty years of age, I was able to conceive my first child, after many years of trying. Three years later, I gave birth to my second and last child.

So, now that I have a family and a home, I still desire to achieve more on a personal level. And at the age of thirty-six, I made the decision to go to college and get a degree. I have always been a creative and artistic person. And so I decided to go to art school. I applied to three art schools in the Philadelphia area: Temple University, Hussian School of Art, and Moore College of Art. I had to prepare a portfolio of my best work. I was interviewed at each school, and they examined my portfolio. After several weeks, I received notice that I had been accepted to all three schools. However, Temple University offered me a grant for my first semester and financial aid. And that is why I attended Temple University for four years.

The Tyler School of Art

It turned out that I was the only adult student in the freshman class. And the only married Freshman student who was married and had children. The other students were of the traditional age of seventeen or eighteen, so I attended Temple University for the next four years. It was difficult because I had to travel to Philadelphia from NJ. Which was an added expense, not only did I have to pay tuition, but I had the added expense of driving back and forth but I had to pay bridge tolls to get from NJ to Philadelphia. And then there was the cost of all the art supplies I needed.

As far as child care, I had friends who lived several blocks from my house. They agreed to watch my two children after school and during the school year. I also took care of their daughter during holidays and throughout the summer.

And if you think going to work and having children at home is difficult, then let me tell you, going to college with two children was a lot harder. I waited until my kids went to bed, and then I worked many hours doing the schoolwork required in my classes the next day.

However, the fact is that although I stood out like a sore thumb from my freshman year through my senior year, I was one of the most popular students in that class. I befriended every person I met in all my classes, including some teachers. I’m not sure how the instructors felt at first glance. They realized that I was older than all the other freshmen. And although I looked younger than my thirty-six years, I certainly didn’t look seventeen or eighteen as all the other Freshman students were.

I believe the teachers liked having me in their classes since most of them called on me to answer questions and give my opinion when none of the other students responded. They often hadn’t done the required work, but I always did. Mainly, I was mature and not afraid to speak in front of the class. And I had committed to myself to excel in every class, even if I never got any sleep.

I could not say I was the most talented student in class because I wasn’t. But, I was the most motivated student. I wanted to succeed and excel, and I always did my best. I had never had any art classes in school during elementary school or high school since I had attended Catholic School, and they did not teach the arts at all. However, I was always a creative child and adolescent. I was always drawing, or writing, or making crafts. I learned to sew when I was quite young and knew how to make clothes, costumes, and everything related to crafts. In addition, I love to read. I applied for one when I was old enough to get a library card. I went to the library every week to get new books. I grew up in the small town of Maple Shade, NJ. And although it was not a big library, it was only two rooms. The librarians were always helpful, and they would put aside books for me to read.

It was a bit of a surprise to my extended family that I was attending college at this late stage. No one tried to discourage me, nor did they show any interest in what I was doing. I have to admit that going to school full-time and still coming home to cook, clean the house, do the wash, and take care of my two young children was a big undertaking.

But since I had committed to doing the best I could and succeeded, I did just that. I graduated at the top of my class with a 4.0 average with two degrees, including an art teaching certificate. Unfortunately, after graduating, all the other students who graduated from my class and I found out that there were very few openings for art teachers in public schools since art had been removed from the public school curriculum. I can not imagine what was the thinking behind that decision. But, nonetheless, it happened.

After realizing there wouldn’t be any teaching position for me. I decided that I would start my own art program. Because of that decision, we had to sell our house in Pennsauken and move to another town, where we purchased a large, old house that had been unoccupied for eight years or more. It needed an immediate roof replacement. We had paired off our house in Pennsauken and used that income to put a down payment on the house in Pitman and the roof repair. The house in Pitman had been empty for eight years and needed a lot of work. It was a doctor’s home and office, and there were three rooms that I could use for my art classes.

Our house is in Pitman, NJ, where I have taught art for years.

And that is exactly what I did. As a result, I opened my own small art school for children in the afternoon and adults in the evening. I had this school for many years until my own children were out of elementary school and going to college. We then decided it was time to sell our home of twenty-four years and retire. And that is what we did, and then we retired and moved to North Carolina. And we have been living here for almost nine years. We will always miss our Pitman house, but there was no way we could continue to live in New Jersey because of the increase in real estate taxes.

And so, here I sit retired and living in North Carolina, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary for eight years. I started a blog and have written short stories and memoirs for the last eight years. I keep my mind and body busy and active as much as possible. I don’t know what might change in my remaining years or what I might decide to do, but I promise you this: whatever I do, I will put everything I have into it. And it will be interesting. I guess you will just have to wait and find out what it may be, and so will I.

M	T	W	T	F	S	S
				1	2	3
4	5	6	7	8	9	10
11	12	13	14	15	16	17
18	19	20	21	22	23	24
25	26	27	28	29	30

WRITE ON

Writer's Blog by Susan A. Culver

Category Archives: My Memoirs

OH HOW TIME HAS FLOWN BY

DON’T WAKE UP YOUR FATHER

FALL IS THE SEASON

LIFE AS I HAVE KNOW IT

STICKY FINGERS

YOU NEVER KNOW WHERE LIFE WILL TAKE YOU

DOUBLE THE TROUBLE AND DOUBLE THE BLESSINGS

MY CHILDHOOD AS I REMEMBER IT

THE YELLOW BUG

HAPPINESS