Category Archives: My Memoirs

My Irish Ancestry

Dublin, Ireland

     As I have been writing this blog for eight years, I thought you might be interested in hearing about my family history. My family of origin was Carberry. Our family name was originally O’Cabri, and we were from Ireland. My family originated in Northern Ireland, in County Down Patrick, in the parish of Grossgar and Killyleach, Bally Patrick.

     Elizabeth McMullen (my paternal grandmother) was twenty-eight when she married Patrick Joseph Carberry on April 2nd, 1899. He had just turned eighteen years old. Patrick had a seventh-grade education. Elizabeth had a fifth-grade education. Frances McMullen witnessed the Marriage. They had a first child, John Henry Carberry. He was born on January 26th, 1901. The child was stillborn or died soon after birth from unknown causes. Patrick J. Carberry emigrated to the USA on May 18th, 1905, on the oceanline, The Baltic.” It landed at Ellis Island, NYC. His name is engraved on the wall of immigrants.

     At that time, thousands upon thousands of Irish emigrated to all parts of the world, including Britain, Australia, Canada, South America, and the USA. They left to escape the repercussions of the potato famine and the widespread poverty and unemployment that prevailed in Ireland and the potato famine and the widespread poverty and unemployment that prevailed since then.

     They were given $12.00, the cost of the trip to America, by the landowners and the taxpayers who were hard put to feed all the starving people in Ireland. The Irish immigrants often had to endure extremely crowded conditions in the steerage section of these ships. The majority of these passengers could described as laborers or servants without occupation. They depend upon the weather, the prevailing winds, and the quality of the ship. It was a dangerous trip. There was always a possibility of shipwreck, but disease was the greatest danger. Outbreaks of disease, especially typhus, are not uncommon. Of whom 20,000 people had died.

This is a picture of me when we were in Dublin, Ireland.

     The voyage took two months, depending on the weather, the prevailing winds, and the quality of the ship. After their arrival, they did not know if they would be allowed to stay. They often arrived only owning the clothes on their backs and what they could carry. And then they were sent on their way.

     I have not been able to establish if Elizabeth McMullen(Carberry)traveled with Patrick or came at some later date. In 1911, Patrick and Elizabeth had a second child. Hugh Henry Patrick was born on February 11th at their home at 803 North 43rd Street. His baptism was witnessed by Mary McMullen) a relative of Elizabeth.

     Patrick found employment at SEPTA as a trolley mechanic. SEPTA is the South Eastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority, and he was a trolley mechanic. Unfortunately, Patrick died suddenly of uremic poisoning, which he had contracted as a complication of dysentery. He died on August 11, 1915, after an eleven-day hospitalization after an eleven-day at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Philadelphia. He was thirty-four years old at the time. He had no relatives in the USA. He is interred at Calvary Cemetery on 48th Street and Lancaster Avenue in Philadelphia, PA.

     Patrick was an only child with no relatives in the USA or Ireland. Hug was four years old at the time of his father’s death, and Elizabeth was forty-two. Elizabeth and Patrick had purchased a home described as small but cozy, kept clean, and well-cared for.

     Elizabeth Carberry was left a widow and a single parent. She had to provide for herself and her son. For the first year after her husband’s death, Elizabeth kept body and soul together by renting rooms to boarders but found there was little profit in it. She found employment at Horstmann’s, where she was a seamstress. She earned $10.00 a week. She kept one border. By then, her son Hugh was in second grade and was described by his teacher, Sister Leonida of St. Ignatius School, a private school, as a good boy who was especially good at math.

     Elizabeth decided that the best place for her son to receive a good education would be Girard College, a residential school for orphans or boys with one parent. This school was established in 1848. It was established by Stephen Girard, considered the richest man in America at the time of his death. The School is located on College Avenue in Philadelphia, on forty-three acres. It still exists to this day, but there are both girls and boys there at present.

Small village in Ireland

Small Village in Ireland

     My father, Hugh Carberry, passed away in 1986 at the age of 75 from lung cancer. He was one of the most intelligent people I ever knew. My parents were married in 1929. I was born in 1951. I have a twin sister and four older siblings, all older than I was. Of the remaining four, there are four of us.

     I feel blessed to have been a part of the Carberry family. My father was stricken, but I always knew he loved me. I still miss him to this day, my dear mother died one year later, in 1987 from congestive heart failure. She was the kindest and loving person I have ever known. I still miss her to this day. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. I was blessed by their presence in my life.

Adventure One, Moving to Florida and Onward

     It was 1974, and Bob and I married on July 13th, 1974. I was twenty-three years old and recently moved to Florida to be near Bob. I had never visited Florida before and was thrilled to live in such a beautiful environment. It was so lovely, save for the overwhelming heat and humidity. It’s not that I was never exposed to humid heat; I was born and raised in Southern New Jersey. The winters were bitter and cold. Icicles hung from the roof of our house; you could ice skate on the sidewalks or the church parking lot behind our house in Maple Shade, where I grew up. I lived in it until I was twenty and decided I wanted to be independent from my parents. This is me with my first child , Jeanette

So, I decided to rent a small, one-bedroom apartment in Haddonfield, NJ. Haddonfield is a prestigious and beautiful town. I attended Saint Mary of the Angels Academy high school there. So, I was familiar with the city, and I loved it. My apartment was located two blocks from the public library. And two blocks away from downtown Haddonfield. There was only one other apartment in the building. An older woman lived there alone. I rarely saw her. Beneath the two flats was a knitting shop where the woman who rented the other apartment sold supplies for knitting, I suppose, since I never went into the shop.

One day, the woman who lived in the apartment next to me knocked at my door and told me to be on the lookout for the dentist who practiced next door to our apartment/knitting shop. I thought she was paranoid, but low and behold, she wasn’t paranoid. She told me to keep curtains on all the windows and to lock my car doors.

The next day, I sat at my tiny kitchen window and had a creepy feeling that someone was staring at me. I looked out the kitchen window, and sure enough, the creepy dentist was looking up at my window, where he could see me standing in my pajamas. Since I was from a small town, I had no idea anyone would try to steal a peak of me when I was in my abode. But, sure enough, there he was, big as life. I flashed him the one-finger salute, which I had never done before. He made a weird smile at me. I opened up the window, which was almost impossible since I nearly killed myself, trying to yank the window and yelling, “You are a freak; I’m going to call the Haddonfield police if I see you looking up here again. And I flashed him the one-finger salute again. And that was the last time I saw that freak, my friends.

Around that time, my oldest childhood friend informed me that her cousin Bob would visit her family soon. She asked me if I wanted to come and see him while he was there. I said, “Yes since I always thought he was “cute.” I went to Joan’s parent’s house, and Bob was there. The next thing I knew, Bob and I went to eat with his other cousin and girlfriend. They lived in Philadelphia. We went out a couple more times, and then he had to return to Florida, where his family lived. I wrote him letters for several months, and before I knew it, I was on my way to Florida. My friend Joanie (Bob’s cousin.) told me about an auto-train. I packed all my clothes and sewing machine and headed toward Lorton, Virginia. It was quite an experience since I had never driven farther than Philadelphia. When I arrived at the train station in Lorton, I found a public telephone and called my parents to let them know that I had arrived safely at the auto-train depot and wouldn’t arrive in Florida until early the following day.

And then I would have to follow, Bob. We arrived hours later, and I stayed overnight at his parent’s house. The next day, I went to the apartment that Bob had found for me. It was a small apartment with one bedroom, a small bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a living room. Only one other tenant and the husband and wife’s apartment owned the building. They were friendly people that I only saw when my rent was due.
Meanwhile, I had to seek out employment. Bob’s cousin Margie recommended an insurance company for high-risk clients and said she would give me a reference. Sure enough, I was once again working in an insurance company. My immediate co-worker was supposed to train me, but she never got around to that. But she was a decent person. She was old, at least that’s what I thought then. Because I was only twenty-two, it was a company called B.D Cole. I worked there for a short time. I had to start looking for another job because they laid off any older or new employees. And that, my friends, was the beginning of a new peas can. So, I began searching for another job. This was when I discovered that companies in Florida at the time would only hire new employees who had lived in Florida for at least three years. So, that was a kettle of fish after looking for employment unsuccessfully. I decided to attend the West Palm Beach Beauty School. And I was accepted. It was a ten-month course. And so, I completed the course. I’m not sure why I wanted to go to a hairdressing Academy. Since I had never previously had any interest in hairstyling,

But, as push came to shove, I applied to the Beauty Academy and was accepted. It was an engaging experience. I met many lovely young people and some middle-aged students. I made a lot of friends. I had difficulty finding a job at a hair salon because of Florida law, which requires you to be a resident for three years to be hired again. This is ridiculous since most of the residents of Florida didn’t originate from Florida but from some other state.

After a month, I found a job opening on Singer Island in Florida at the Collonades Hotel. It was owned by a millionaire named McArthur—a couple named Zimmerman. I did facials. The customers were primarily wealthy visitors from Canada. And some of the wealthy occupants of the Cononades Hotel. They were friendly people. It was a good experience for me, and I made many friends. I was putting Bob through the Brooks Institute for Photography. When He graduated, we decided to move back to New Jersey. So, we began our long trek back to New Jersey and Philadelphia, where we believed there would be more job opportunities. My parents were so happy we were returning since I hadn’t seen them in five years.

Bob and I stayed at my parent’s house, my childhood home, until Bob could find a job. It turned out there weren’t any jobs in photography in the Philadelphia, New Jersey, area. So Bob found employment doing electronics at RCA in Princeton, NJ, which was a relatively long haul from Maple Shade, New Jersey. Nonetheless, he accepted the position and began working. Meanwhile, we stayed at my parent’s house until we decided we had enough money saved to put a downpayment on a small house in Pennsauken, NJ, which was only about a twenty-minute drive from Maple Shade. It was a three-bedroom house with a small kitchen, a dining room, a decent-sized living room, and a basement. We ended up living there for fourteen years. In the meantime, I had two children, three years apart. And I was busy taking care of them. Pennsauken Elementary School was only a ten-minute walk from our house when they were old enough to attend elementary school.

Temple University Philadelphia

Temple University, when I was thirty-six and graduated at 41.

When I was thirty-five, I decided I needed a higher education to make decent money, so I applied at the Hussian School of Art and Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I had to prepare a portfolio of my work and take an exam to be accepted at any higher education university. I was accepted at both schools. Temple University offered me a scholarship for the first year, so I decided to go there.

And so began my higher education. I was the only student in the first-year class of a non-traditional age; I was thirty-six, and the rest were seventeen or eighteen. I never had any problems with the students because of my age. I made many close friends over the four years that I attended Temple. I won’t lie. It wasn’t easy attending a university and juggling caring for my children, the house, the yard, etc. But I took one day at a time. I didn’t get much sleep since I had to care for my kids, clean the house, pay our bills, and take care of our front and back yard. And believe it or not, I excelled, and four years later, I graduated Suma Cum Laude with a BA with teaching credentials. Overall, it was an excellent experience, but it wasn’t easy. The day I graduated, I received a standing ovation from my fellow students. I won’t lie; I was proud of my accomplishments and looked forward to the next chapter in my life: teaching art.

After graduating from college, the next chapter in my life was finding a position teaching Art. And that was a more significant challenge than going to school. I look forward to the next chapter in my life next week, “what I had to do when I couldn’t find a teaching position in a public or private school in New Jersey or Philadelphia.

GROWING UP CATHOLIC IN THE 1950’S AND 1960’S

     I was born in 1951; I have a fraternal twin sister. We came from a large Irish Catholic family, of which my twin sister and I were the youngest. I had four older siblings. My brother, Hugh, was twenty years older than me, and my eldest sister, Jeanette, was nineteen. My sister Eileen was eight years older than me, and my sister Elizabeth was seven years older. My mother gave birth to my twin brother several years after my twin Karen and I. Unfortunately, they were premature and didn’t survive. When I was in my late teens, my mother and father took me to the cemetery where my younger brothers were buried. I hadn’t been told about them before, and I was upset to find out my little brothers had passed away.

It wasn’t unusual for children of my generation from Catholic homes to have large families. I do not know whether this was by choice or because no birth control adequately protected mothers in those early years from unplanned or unwanted pregnancies.

My mother in the 1950’s.

However, I didn’t feel out of place since I lived in a neighborhood where most of the families were large. My parents were married in 1929, which explains why there was such a lengthy age gab between my older siblings and my twin and I. We were born in 1951, during a time when we were referred to as the Baby Boomers. After the war, there was tremendous growth in the birth of children and larger families, so large communities were formed, and small towns grew and expanded.

When I was old enough to attend elementary school in 1958, there were over sixty students in my class and three first-grade classes. My teacher was a Sister John Michael, she belonged to the Sister’s of St. Joseph. And let me tell you, she ran that first-grade class with its sixty-plus students like we were in the military. The classrooms were overcrowded and stifling in the warmer months and cold in the winter. When I was in the third grade, my classroom was situated right next to the boiler room. And let me tell you, it was hot as hell. It wasn’t easy to concentrate when you felt like you were going to pass out at any moment.

House I grew up in.

Our home in the early 1950s in Maple Shade, NJ.

In addition, since all the classrooms were overcrowded, everything was routine. We have an assigned time to go to the bathroom, and woe is the child who had problems with holding it in or intestinal issues. I was one of those unfortunate children. One day, I kept raising my hand because I had to go to the bathroom. Dear Sister John Michael ignored me as usual. So, on that particular day, I was in distress, to say the least. I was called up to the front of the class to work out a problem on the blackboard; I tried to explain to Sister John Michael that I had to go. But she ignored me completely, so while I was trying to complete the math problem, I had an accident and peed my pants. I forgot to mention that Catholic School Uniforms were made of heavy wool: winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall. As I stood in my puddle, all the students laughed as they observed my accident. Sister John Michael smacked me hard, and yelled at me in front of the whole class. I tried not to cry, which would only call more attention to myself, and Sister John Michael told me to go to the girl’s laboratory and clean myself up. When the lunch bell rang. I was the first one in line. Students living nearby were allowed to go home for lunch and then return to school to finish the day off.

When I arrived home for lunch, we lived only two houses away from the school, and my mother could see I was crying. It took a while for my mother to get me to tell her what happened in school. She said she was going up to the school and giving Sister John Michael a piece of her mind. My mother rarely lost her temper or raised her voice, so I kept begging her not to go to school since I believed Sister John Michael would be angry if my mother criticized her for anything.

After that unfortunate event, I refused to drink anything at breakfast before I went to school. Since, I couldn’t bare a repeat of the previous event. Although this must seem such a meaningless event that was soon forgotten, I can tell you I never forgot it, Or I wouldn’t be able to tell you about this unfortunate event. The nuns left their mark on me for sure; that made a big impression. By the luck of the Irish, my third-grade teacher was a lay female teacher, whose name was Miss Norris, and she turned out to be the polar opposite of the “dear nuns” that I had up to that point in my academic career. Under her tutelage, I bloomed. She never yelled at the students, called them stupid, or smacked the student’s palms with metal-edged rulers. She was calm and never said a harsh word Or called any student a mean name. As a result, the classroom and the students in it maintained themselves and didn’t fight, argue, or carry on.

As for me, I began feeling more confident in myself and my ability to do better in school. I opened up to the other students and made many friends during that year and the ensuing years through eighth grade. At this point, the students in the eighth grade, which included me, had to decide what Catholic high school we wanted to attend. We all had to take entrance exams before we were accepted into High School. By some miracle, I passed both exams and was accepted into both Catholic High Schools. My parents decided for my sister and me to attend Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy, which coincidentally was an all-girl high school and was located in Haddonfield, New Jersey and was a town where most of the residents were wealthy, which was a whole different environment from Maple Shade where I lived. There weren’t wealthy people living there. My parents struggled to have their children attend private Catholic Schools.

St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy was a different kettle of fish from Our Lady Of Perpetual Elementary School. Everyone in Maple Shade was working, living in smaller homes, and not having much money. Most parents both worked full-time. My mother worked and cared for the house, as did my siblings and me. I never heard a word of complaint from her, not ever. My mother was the kindest, most decent woman I ever knew. I feel blessed to have such a wonderful mother. My father worked hard and often had two jobs to make ends meet. I feel blessed that I had two such wonderful souls for my parents. I never went without. We had homemade dinners every night of the week. And there was always food in the fridge. I never lacked anything. We had all our needs met throughout my childhood and my adolescence.

St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy- All girl highschool

When I graduated from St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy, I found employment at a dentist’s office in Haddon Township, New Jersey. I had no experience working in an office, let alone a dentist’s office, but Dr. Wozniak trained me. His office was part of his house. And so I came t know his decent and kind wife, Connie. I worked there for five years until I met my now husband when he was visiting his cousins in New Jersey. He was living in Florida. And that, my friends, is a whole new story about my experiences living in Florida and then, later, California.

You Never Know Where Life Will Take You, But You Must Keep Putting One Foot In Front Of The Other

So, here I am in my senior year. It’s hard for me to believe, but it’s true. It seems like just yesterday, I was a young mother with two children. I still have two children, but they are grown and no longer need me to watch over them or direct them.

For that matter, it seems like recently I was a kid riding my bike all over, playing jump rope and rollerskating in the summer and ice-skating in the winter at Strawbridge Lake in a town a bike ride a half-hour away from my house. My childhood as a baby boomer was somewhat idyllic to some extent. I attended twelve years of Catholic School taught by nuns. There were rules and structures in place. And if you didn’t follow the rules, you could look forward to unpleasant consequences. Which included having your hands rapped with a wooden ruler with a metal edge. You would have to stay after school and write many pages of apologies for your negative behavior. Then you would be sent home with a note from your teacher informing your parents of your misbehavior, a double whammy because both your mother and your father would give you further negative consequences for getting into trouble at school. Mainly because my parents paid high tuition to have us be educated in a private Catholic school.

Reflecting on my life, I find that I have few regrets. Yes, I made the occasional bad choice, but who doesn’t? I have led an interesting and challenging life. After I had two children, I decided to go to college when they were grade-school age. I applied and was accepted at Temple University in Philadelphia and the Hussian School of Art. Also, in Phildadelphia. At the age of thirty-six, I began my college education. For the first several months, the other seventeen- or eighteen-year-old Freshman students mistook me for their teacher. They were somewhat shocked when I explained that I was a Freshman, too. But, over time, they all came to know me, and believe it or not, I was a popular student with the student population. As for the teachers, they seemed to make a unilateral decision that I was the first student to be called on in class, and since I always had my work done on time, be it artwork or written work, My work was used as either a good example or a poor example, either way, the students would learn from my completed work. Although it was difficult at times to balance my home life with a husband and two children and going to college full-time, somehow, through pure determination. I graduated at forty-one with magnum cum-laude and art teaching credentials at the top of my class. At the grand old age of forty-one, with a standing ovation from my whole class and the professors.

Tyler School of Art

After graduation, I searched for an art teaching position in New Jersey. I found that the public schools in New Jersey were no longer funding art teaching. I can not express how devastated I was when I discovered that there were no jobs for me at all.

After some long nights and consideration for my future, I decided that since the public schools were no longer teaching art, I would start my own art school. The house we were living in at the time was too small, and over time, I found an older home in Pitman, New Jersey, that was large and also empty, as the previous owners had passed away years before. Until now, no one had the desire or the funds to buy and renovate the house.

Pitman home and Art Room

The realtor made a last-ditch effort to sell the house and had an open house. And we went to the open house and checked it out. The home was large, 5,500 square feet, and had been unoccupied for many years. It needed a great deal of work. But I was determined to make it ours. And so we made an offer, and they eventually accepted it. We sold our smaller home, moved into our new home, and began to renovate it from top to bottom. The previous owner had been a therapist and had two rooms and an office where he treated his patients. It also had a small bathroom. I was convinced this would make my perfect art room where I could teach my students drawing, painting, and sculpture. I immediately began renovating those rooms. And the two storage rooms. I will slowly purchase all the materials I need for myself and my students.

After I had The Art Room prepared for teaching art, I went downtown Pitman and talked to the editor of the local paper, The Pitman World News and Report, and had a one-page advertisement about my school and the classes I would be teaching. And that my friends were the beginning of my art teaching career. I taught children of different ages in the afternoons and adults in the evenings during the week. Over time, all my classes were filled. I also taught drawing, painting, pottery, and three-dimensional art for many years. I also had the privilege of getting to know my neighbors and many of the residents of Pitamn. We lived there for twenty-five years until we were ready to retire. It was hard to leave Pitman and all the great people we had come to love, but we knew we couldn’t afford to live there once we retired. And so, after my husband retired, we sold our house. And started seriously making decisions about where we would be living next. And our final decision was to move South to North Carolina as it became clear that the taxes were much cheaper there. It was tough for us to move away from our Pitman home and the friends we made, but we did. And so, I sit in my bedroom in our house in North Carolina, having been retired for nine years. I have kept myself busy volunteering three mornings a week at an animal sanctuary and writing this blog for the past nine years.

I don’t know what or if our circumstances will change, but I do know that I will keep putting one foot in front of the other into the future.

All The Days Of My Life-Part One of Work experiences

ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE-

     I grew up in the 1950s in Maple Shade, New Jersey, about a thirty-minute drive from Philadelphia, PA. My experiences as a baby boomer greatly impacted the adult I eventually became. Some of the experiences that impacted me the most were related to the fact that I grew up two houses away from the Catholic Church, called Our Lady of Perpetual Help or OLPH. My mother was a devout woman and attended church seven days a week. And was a member of the Altar-Rosary Society that would gather each day after Mass and say the Rosary. As a result, most of my siblings (six of us) and I attended Catholic School. I went to a Catholic elementary school for eight years. And I attended Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, New Jersey. This was an all-girl high school. My twin sister and I attended St. Mary’s of The Angell’s Academy.

I have to admit I was somewhat immature in high school and had no interest in boys. The only boys that I had any contact with during my high school years were attending Bishop Eustace High School. And we girls who attended St. Mary’s of the Angels Academy were informed that all the boys were studying to become priests. So, we never bothered to get to know any of the boys. Of course, that wasn’t the truth. Few of the boys attending Bishop Eustace became priests for St. Mary’s of the Angel’s Academy. I only knew one of my classmates who became nuns. So, much for that.

When I turned eighteen, I decided I wouldn’t attend church. And I haven’t, except for weddings and funerals. The reason I made this decision was because my mother spent years and years praying for my oldest sister, Jeanie, who was diagnosed with alpha-one deficiency. A genetic form of emphysema. She passed away when she was a mere forty-one years old. She was such a wonderful, funny, and intelligent person, and she had two children who were left motherless at a young age. I lost my faith in god, and that was the end of going to masses and going to confession as far as I was concerned. If there was a god, he had left my sister to die from a long and painful death. And I didn’t want to pray to him again if he existed.

When I was a child, I was shy and quiet. I hated having to talk in the classroom. Probably because the nuns showed no mercy to quiet and shy children, they had no difficulty saying harmful and hurtful things and embarrassing students by making them stand in the corner or not allowing them to go to the bathroom unless it was when all the students in the class stood in the hallway and waited their turn. Unfortunately, I was blessed with intestinal problems and IBS, which was a relatively unknown illness in the 1950’s and 1960’s. This caused me to have accidents in the classroom, Which ultimately caused me to hate Catholic School even more.

Not everything about elementary school was bad. I made a lot of friends during my eight years of elementary school and four years at St. Mary of the Angels Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. I have to admit I didn’t put forth much effort in my twelve years of school, possibly because I was constantly told how stupid I was during those twelve years.

My experiences after I graduated from high school by the skin of my teeth proved to me that I was certainly not stupid but quite intelligent. Right out of high school, I found employment as a dental assistant for Dr. E. G. Wozniak in Haddon Township, where I worked for five years. Then, I worked at Ellis Insurance for Evie and Harry Ellis for several years until I met and married my now husband, Robert. We have been married for fifty years and have two adult daughters.

Over the years, I have had many jobs, including selling high-risk auto insurance and hairdressing, as well as being a counselor at St. Vincent’s School for Exceptional Children in Santa Barbara, CA.

How, you may ask, did I end up in California? After Bob and I married in 1974, Bob moved to California so he could attend Brooks Institute to study photography. We lived there for three years. And I loved every minute of it—such a glorious and beautiful place to live. And I made many friends while we lived there. The first year I was there, I got a job selling hats and wigs at Robinso, which isn’t a department store. I worked with a decent and kind boss but hated the job. Standing eight hours a day trying to sell hats and wigs. A friend who worked part-time at Robinson’s school told me about St. Vincent’s School, and I immediately went there and applied for a job as a counselor.

      I called them several times a week for a month until they gave in and interviewed me for a full-time job. I immediately said, ‘Yes.” For the next three years, I worked as a counselor at St. Vincent’s School in the cottages where the girls lived. And I supervised teenage girls. I can honestly say that this position was my favorite job ever. That’s saying a lot because, throughout my long life, I have had many, many different jobs and employment opportunities. My father always had difficulty understanding why I ended up working with nuns( they taught in the school where the kids attended.) since I always detested them when I was in elementary and Catholic high school. I had minimal contact with the dear sisiter’s since I only interacted with them when I picked up the kids from school, a short distance from the building where they lived.

     As I sit here contemplating my life, I feel blessed to have had all the experiences throughout my lifetime. I have learned from each one of them, and I met wonderful people. I will be writing memoirs in the not-too-distant future. Going to college when I was thirty-six next was a challenging and positive experience for me. Since I was the only adult student to enter Freshman year at my “advanced age of thirty-six,” I attended and excelled at Temple University, Tyler School of Art. They were at once the most challenging four years of my life and the most rewarding..  Not only was I, not your typical college freshman, as I was thirty-six years old, and I had two children, seven and four. And so began my life as a college student. More to come in Part Two.

YOU NEVER KNOW WHERE LIFE IS GOING TO TAKE YOU

Looking back over my life, I find it difficult to believe that so many years have passed by so quickly. And here I sit, realizing that I have come too close to the end of my years on this planet. For the most part, I have few regrets.

I have led a fascinating life for the most part. I was born into a family of two parents and five siblings. My parents were hard-working people who did everything they could for their children. For over forty years, my father was the head dispatcher for SEPTA Bus Company in Philadelphia. He devised the system that is still used. His nickname was Smiley. It was some joke because my father rarely smiled. There were members of our family who referred to him as “THE BIG BEAR.” Because he was somewhat of a grouch.  House I grew up in.

My brother, Harry, was twenty years older than me. He was married and moved into his apartment when I was pretty young. He was a psychologist, and very well-known in his field, In fact, for many years he was head of the Psychological Society. My sister, Jeanie, was nineteen years older than me. She was one of the kindest people I ever knew. And she was beautiful. I have two sisters, seven and eight years older than I am. They both married when they were young. When I was in grade school, their names were Eileen and Elizabeth. Then, my sister Karen and I came into the picture when my mother was forty-one.

Our first home in Pitman, NJ

We are fraternal twins. This means that although we were born at the same time, we don’t look alike, act alike, and have few things in common other than we have the same birthday. As children we did not play together, we each had our own friends. My mother, Marie, had two babies a year after Karen and I. They were named Steven and Girard; unfortunately, they did not survive. I didn’t learn about their existence until I was about ten or eleven. My father took my twin sister and me to the cemetery and showed us where they were buried. I was young then and don’t think I understood what my parents told us.

Life in the Carberry Family was typical for the most part for families that lived in Maple Shade, New Jersey, where I was raised. We lived two houses down from the Catholic Church, Our Lady of Perpetual Help. We were Catholic, so we attended Sunday Mass when we were young. And then when we were old enough, seven years old.” We were enrolled at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight long years. I say eight long years because we were taught by Saint Joseph Nuns who were very strict and thought nothing of putting you in the corner, smacking your open palm with a ruler with a metal edge. Or, in my case, putting me in the heater room if I misbehaved. I don’t recall what I was doing wrong, but I spent quite a lot of time in the corner with my back to the rest of the class.

When I graduated from grade school, by the skin of my teeth, we had to take an entrance exam to attend Catholic High School. Parents had to pay tuition for Catholic Schools. There was a public elementary school at the end of our block. But I believed we would benefit from a Catholic School. And so my twin, my two older sisters, and I attended Catholic High School.I graduated by the skin of my teeth in 1969 from Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. Haddonfield is an upscale town where most of the residents are pretty wealthy. My parents enrolled us there because it was an all-girls school.

high school graduation picture

Susan Culver- high school graduation picture

I can’t say I missed having boys in school with me since I was always quite shy around them. I didn’t go out on a date until I was twenty-one. So, you may wonder what I did do next. You probably think I went to college. No, I did not. My parents told St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy that they could not afford to send us to college. However, the school did find employment for both my sister and I. My twin got a job at a mailing service. She did pretty well there and made good money. I got a job through the school as a dental assistant at a dentist’s office for Dr. Edward Wozniak. He was a decent young dentist with two small children. His office was attached to his home. I worked for him for five years. It was an interesting position, and I was pretty good at it. I trained two people to do the job. When I was twenty-one, I went on a date with my best childhood girlfriend’s boy cousin. And the rest, my friends, was history. Her cousin lived in Florida then and was visiting his cousins in New Jersey and Philadelphia on his way back home to Florida. I had met him when I was pretty young. Anyway, after he (Bob) went back to Florida. We started writing letters to each other. The next thing that happened was that I decided to move to Florida to be with Bob. That is precisely what I did; I was about twenty-two then. My parents were heartbroken when I left since I was their last child living at home. All the other siblings had married, moved to their own homes, and started having children. My parents ended up with seventeen grandchildren. I loved those kids. And I was looking forward to having my children at some point.

After I arrived in Florida, I took an auto-train. This is a means of transportation where your car and the people in another train car are loaded on the train. It took eight hours. When I got to the end of the ride, I waited until Bob got off from his job and met me at the parking lot where the auto-train left me and my car off. It was hot, hot, hot. I had no idea any state could be hotter than New Jersey’s summer. But, boy, boy, were they. It felt like an oven to me. Bob finally arrived, and I followed him behind his car to the apartment he had rented for me. (I paid for it.) It was a lovely one-bedroom apartment with a living room, small kitchen, and small bathroom. It was nice. I had lived in my apartment in Haddonfield, New Jersey, for a year before I moved to Florida. So, to some degree, I was used to living alone. I found a job in the first month I arrived in Florida selling high-risk insurance, I had held a simlar position in New Jersey. And I liked it. The fact is, I enjoyed working in general. I like being busy, accomplishing things and doing it well. I liked earning my own money. It’s a good feeling.

So, what’s next, you might ask. Well, we got married. I decided to look for a different job. Why, you may ask. Because when I came back from our honeymoon and went back to work. I was called into the office and informed that, unfortunately, I was being laid off. Sorry about that. After several weeks of looking for a new job, I decided to go to hairdressing school because employers in Florida were reluctant to hire people from out of state. Yes, hairdressing school. Why? You may ask. You only had to attend for eight months, and you got a license to do hair. Now, I never had any interest in hairdressing. I didn’t do much with my hair. But hairdressing is what I learned to do. And sure enough, I completed the training and got a job doing what? Not hairdressing, I had also been trained in doing facials, nails, and hair. So, I applied for and was hired to do facials at the Collanides Hotel on Singer Island. (where the rich to play) And actually, I was pretty good at facials. I worked there for several years until my now husband, Bob, decided he wanted to attend Brooks Institute in California to learn photography. And that is how I lived in beautiful California for several years until he graduated.
I got a job working at St. Vincent’s School as a counselor. Once again, I had never done this type of job, but I was more than willing to give it the old college try. And as it turned out, I loved this job and all the children. I came to love them like my own children, and I stayed there for several years until Bob graduated from Brooks Institute. After Bob graduated, Bob and I decided to move back to New Jersey. Bob believed there were more photography jobs in Philadelphia than in the South. And so, we were returning to New Jersey and Philadelphia. And thus began another chapter of our life.

Stay tuned for the next chapter of my life next Wednesday.

The Time Just flew by

Looking back over my lifetime, I realize that some of my best memories were my childhood experiences. I’m a baby boomer, meaning I was born between 1946 and 1964. They’re currently between 57-75 years old. I was born in 1951, and although I find it difficult to believe, I am presently seventy-three years old. I know I am 73, but I don’t feel that old. I still look forward to each new day, and I am busy from six-thirty in the morning until I go to bed at 8:45 at night.

My husband and I retired nine years ago and moved to North Carolina. Before that, we had lived in New Jersey for thirty-one years. We have also lived in Florida and California during our early years of marriage. I have had an interesting life and met many interesting and famous people. I have worked as a dental assistant and an oral surgeon assistant. When we lived in California and Bob, my husband, was attending Brooks Institute for Photography in Santa Barbara, I worked as a counselor at St. Vincent’s School and a live-in facility for mildly retarded children. I must admit that of all the jobs I had over my lifetime, St. Vincent’s School was my favorite. I came to love those children with my whole heart. 

After my husband had completed his education, we returned to New Jersey and Philadelphia. We lived with my parents for several months. Bob found employment as an engineering tech. And we decided that we would buy a house. Since Bob had served in the Military, he could buy a house without a downpayment. And that is precisely what we did. We found a house for sale in Pennsauken, New Jersey, in a nice middle-class neighborhood. We made an offer for the house, and it was accepted. It was a 1950’s house. It had three bedrooms, a small kitchen and dining room, and a half bath. It is a big yard, front and back. And then we proceeded to have two children, both daughters. I had been looking forward to having kids since I always loved playing and caring for my many nieces and nephews as a teenager. And I had also come to love the kids at St. Vincent’s. We spent the time before our first child was born updating our little house. We lived there for fourteen years. Our kids attended school at Pennsauken Elementary School.

Temple University, Tyler School of Art

When my oldest daughter was six, and my youngest was three, I decided to attend college. I was thirty-six at the time. I applied to three art schools and was accepted by all of them. I decided to participate in Temple University, Tyler School of Art, and Hussian School of Art. However, I decided to attend Tyler School of Art because they offered me financial assistance and a scholarship for the first year.

I’m not going to lie. It was difficult attending college full-time with two small children. Luckily, one of my neighborhood friends offered to babysit my kids after school and on holidays. I babysat her daughter, who was about my oldest daughter’s age, during the Summer since I didn’t take Summer classes.

I did not get much sleep during those four years, but it was one of the best experiences of my life. I was the only adult student in all my classes. And often, the other students thought I was a teacher. However, as time passed, I befriended all the students in my classes. By the end of my four years at the Tyler School of Art, I was known to almost everyone in the school, Mainly because on our lunch break, I would go down to the student cafeteria and ask if I could eat lunch at their table if there were an empty seat and they always said yes. In this way, I befriended every student in the school. And some of the teachers who were about my age. It was challenging to go to college at my age, but I loved every minute of it, and never regretted it for a minute. The day my class graduated from school. I got a standing ovation from everyone. I have to say it was one of the best experiences of my life. When I think back on it, I don’t know how I did it. But, overall, I think that once I am determined to accomplish something, I will do it, no matter how difficult or complicated. When I attended Tyler, I was the only adult student, but more and more adult students attend college. And to tell you the truth, the day I graduated was one of the proudest moments of my life.

After I graduated from Tyler, I applied for every art teacher position I could find. As I started sending out my resumes to different public schools in other areas of New Jersey, I became aware that the schools were no longer teaching art. They decided it was necessary. But, of course, it is. Anything that teaches children how to think creatively has excellent value for their whole lives due to not finding employment. I decided that I was going to start an Art School of my own. And then, I started looking for a house in the South Jersey area. One day, I received a newsletter with an advertisement on the front page for a big, old Victorian home in Pitman, NJ. That was for sale. And my husband and I attended the Open House. And it was exactly what I envisioned, except that it had been unoccupied for the past eight years. It was in need of repair, a new roof, right off the bat since the roof was leaking, it had wood floors throughout, but it was in bad repair, it was covered in wall paper from decades ago that was glued to the walls. It was a house with four bedrooms, two and a half baths, two cellars, and a third floor that was immense. In addition, the previous owner had a business in which he dedicated two rooms and a bathroom. And this, my friends, was perfect for my “ Art Room.“ After several months of cleaning and remodeling these rooms, I posted an advertisement in the “Pitman News and World News Report.” Within two months, children and adolescents came to my art room for classes, and adults arrived at night.

It was a great experience, and I became friends with all of my neighbors and many of the people who lived in Pitman. This is an old saying, but none-the-less truth. “Never give up. Just try, try again. And that is precisely what I did.

And so, we lived in Pitman, New Jersey, for twenty-four years. And I loved every minute of it. We stayed there until it was time for us to retire. And so here I am some eight years later in North Carolina. Believe it or not, I volunteer at an animal sanctuary, caring for birds, Parrots, Macaws, finches, pheasants, and doves. I have always been a great lover of all animals. Presently, I have two dogs, ten birds, and a cat that resides in our house. And we have a Koi pond in our backyard, and I feed all the wild birds in our yard. I have seven bird feeders. I don’t know my future, but I assure you it will be interesting and challenging.

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

     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.

high school graduation picture

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- 1960's

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

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.

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.

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 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.

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. 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.

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 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.

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