Tag Archives: Florida

DOUBLE THE TROUBLE AND DOUBLE THE BLESSINGS

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

Susan and Karen -1951

Susan and Karen-born 1951

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

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

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

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

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

St. Mary of The Angels Academy 1969

St. Mary of the Angels Academy Graduation 1969

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

I’d Rather Eat My Hat

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“There’s about as much chance of that happening as me eating my hat. Said, Stella.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.” Said her friend and neighbor, Helen.

“Not that bad, Well, I hate to know what could be worse.”Said, Stella

“OK, five things that could be worse than having to drive your beat-up old car that doesn’t have a working air conditioner all the way to Florida and back again. And then having to pick up your mother-in-law and bring her back to your house to live with you. Well, I can think of a hundred things. Have your teeth pulled out one at a time, all in one day. Or having burnt popcorn kernels stuck between your teeth permanently, falling down the cement steps at the Art Muzeum in Philadelphia with a whole crowd of people watching you. Going out to lunch with your boss, and he hits on you. I could go on all day. Your mother-in-law can not be all bad. I bet you could think of several positive attributes about her if you tried. 

“No, none of those experiences outdo living with my mother-in-law for the rest of my days. Absolutely nothing is worse than that. Dear god, I’m sure I will lose my mind. She will no doubt talk non-stop all the way home about how I should be making a lot more money, getting a better job, and living in a bigger house. And to top it off, she absolutely hates all my cats.”

“OK, so that doesn’t exactly scream you’re going to have a great time on the eleven hundred and eighteen-mile drive, which will take approximately seventeen hours if you go non-stop. But you never know; things could get better once you get used to living with her. Maybe she will mellow as she gets older. You never know. Maybe deep down, she is a decent person. Give her a chance, why don’t you?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve known her for over thirty years. I know her inside and out. And there is no way in hell that I’m going to suddenly realize that she’s not as bad as I thought. She criticizes everything I do and say. And beyond her god-awful personality, she is a cleptomaniac. I kid you not. Every time I went shopping with her, she stole everything she could get her hands on.

One time I took her food shopping. She opened food packages, bite big chunks out of them, and then put them back on the shelf. When we went to the department store, she once pocketed a one thousand dollar gold watch and stuck it in her purse. I wasn’t aware of it. As we were leaving the store, alarms went off, and five store security officers ran over to us and dragged us back to the security office. I had no idea what was going on. They made us strip and empty our pockets and our purses. And low and behold. They found the gold watch worth thousands of dollars in her purse, wrapped up in her hanky.

When they found it, she acted like an innocent little lamb. She said, “Oh my, how did that get in my purse? And then she said, “Helen did you put this in my purse? How could you?”

I said, “What? How dare you accuse me? Sir, my mother-in-law is a cleptomaniac. She could snatch the teeth right out of your head, and you wouldn’t notice it until you tried to eat a steak dinner. I kid you not.”

“Oh, Helen, how can you say that? I’m as innocent as a newborn baby.”
“A newborn baby what? “Peranna?”

“Look, officers, she’s an old lady. She’s out of her mind. She didn’t know what she was doing. Can you forget this happened? Since you retrieved the watch. She doesn’t have a clue. It’s all a game to her. She already has a watch. She’s nuts. That’s all I can say. She’s out of her god-forsaken mind. I promise I will keep her out of the store from now on. Can we please go?”

After the officers went back to speak to his boss, they came back in and said, “You can go, but you may never come into this store or any of our branch stores ever again, and if you do, you will both be arrested. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, we understand. Don’t we, Mom?”

My mother-in-law shook her head up and down. But I could see she had her fingers crossed behind her. I felt as if I might go to go out of my mind. The next day I took her back to the airport to send her back to Florida. I hoped never to see her again. When she was going through the security check, the alarms went off. She was surrounded like she was the Unabomber. They had their weapons drawn and were pointing them directly at her. I screamed at the top of my lungs,” What the hell is going on, Mom? What did you do now?

They took her into the security office, and she had to strip down to her skivvies. By the way, you won’t believe this, but she was wearing bikini underpants and a purple and gold bra. This woman is nearly eighty years old and dressed up like a Playboy Bunny from the 1970s. I have never been so humiliated in my whole life.

And here’s the kicker, she had a small revolver in a secret pocket of her purse. It was a pocket inside of another pocket. When she went through the scanner, it lit up like a Christmas tree. When they asked her why she would bring on board an airliner, she said, “Well, what do you think to protect me from hijackers? What kind of fool do you think I am?”

“She was barred from ever using that airline again. I don’t know if she is just loco, or she has dementia, or she’s just plain stupid. Or, and this is what I really believe, she doesn’t think that rules and laws apply to her. Do you really believe that, at any level, I would be willing to spend the rest of my life with her??? I rather spend my life in a prison with hardened convicts and murderers. I kid you not. Why don’t you offer to pick her up and let her spend the rest of her life with you? Or better yet, why don’t you take her in for a couple of weeks? And if she doesn’t cause any problems like blowing up your house or robbing your neighbors blind, I’ll reconsider taking her in?”

“OK, I’ll do it. But what do I get out of it?”
“Well, you get to say, “I told you so. And I can’t think of anything else because I know in my heart of hearts that there is no upside with this woman. You will be pulling the hair out of your head in two” days, if not on the ride home.”

“OK, you’ve got a deal, but you have to pay for my expenses for picking her up and driving her back here. I’m not made of money, you know.”

“No problem, but I’m sure by the time you get home with her, you will be more than willing to give me your last dime just so you never have to see her again. When can you go get her?”

“ I can go this Friday, It’s a holiday, and I’ll be back late the next day.”

“ Take my advice and get plenty of rest the day before you go to Florida. You’re going to need it. And bring food with you. She eats like a horse, and she likes to stop at every restaurant she sees. And as little as she is, she eats like a starving horse.”

“Well, that’s fine, I love eating at roadside restaurants. I haven’t taken a road trip in years and years. It will be fun. I’m looking forward to it.”

I just stared at her and said, “I wish you all the luck in the world. You are going to need it. Let me give you her full name, address, and phone number. Whatever you do, do not give her your cell phone number. She will start calling you all night and day. “

“Oh, you always make a big deal out of everything. You have a tendency to exaggerate even the smallest thing. And blow it out of proportion.”

Two days later, Helen left me a message to let me know she was on her way to pick up my mother-in-law. I crossed my fingers and hoped that Helen wouldn’t murder my mother-in-law on the way back. But, somewhere in the back of my mind, I had a little voice saying, “ I hope Helen doesn’t murder my mother-in-law, but then again, it would not be unheard of an old lady dying from a heart attack because my neighbor and friend, Helen is one of the worst drivers that I ever had the displeasure of riding in a car with. I only went on one trip with her driving, and I was praying the whole way that I would make it out alive. She rarely kept her eyes on the road, and she would fiddle with the radio and look in the mirror at her reflection over and over. She would eat a sandwich with one hand, drink a coffee with the other, and steer with her knee. I kid you not. It was truly a terrorizing experience—one which I will never repeat. Maybe the two of them were meant for each other.

So, I let my mother-in-law know that my friend Helen was coming to get her and that she was going to spend part of her time at Helen’s house since I was still working from home and needed quiet and isolation. I gave her the pertinent information about Helen, what she looked like, Cruella Deville. That might be a slight exaggeration. Because compared to my mother-in-law Helen was a raving beauty.

The next couple of weeks went by quickly, and before I knew it, I received a call from Helen telling me she was leaving tomorrow for Florida. And she would give me a call when she arrived. She was going to stay at my mother’s house overnight and leave early the next morning.

I didn’t hear from Helen or my mother for three days. I wondered if something bad happened or if Helen got lost or she tried to kill my mother or vice versa. A couple of days later, Helen called to let me know they were almost home and would call me again when they arrived at her house. She didn’t say anything about my mother, the long ride, or anything. I was gobsmacked to tell you the truth. Oh, gobsmacked is an Irish expression for shocked.

Helen called me the next morning and asked if I would like to come over and say hello to my mother. To tell you the truth, I had to think about it for a few minutes. Because, in all honesty, I had no real desire to see my “dear” mother any time soon. But, all the same, I changed out of my pajamas and into the cleanest clothes I owned. This doesn’t mean that they were actually clean, but they were the only clothes that didn’t have stains on them. To tell you the truth, I’m a bit of a slob. I hate cleaning, doing wash, yard work etc, etc. I love my stay-at-home job. That’s the one thing I like about my mother is that when she visits me, my house is immaculate. But the flip side of that coin is that she never stops nagging me about what a slob I am. But it’s my house, and if you don’t like it, you are welcome to leave any time.

I thought about running all around and straightening up the house, but I didn’t. About twenty minutes later, they arrived at my door, and they actually rang the doorbell. I walked over to the door nonchalantly and did my best to give them a big smile of welcome. But, to tell you the truth, my stomach was in turmoil. And then I saw my mother’s face pressed to my back door window, and she had a big smile on her face. And get this, she had a bunch of red roses in her hand. And what looked like a casserole dish with a cover on it. I could see steam rising out of it. She was holding it with oven mitts.

I opened the door and said,” Wow, you two look great, What have you been up to?”

“Well, we both went to the hairdresser this morning and had the works. And then, when we came back, I made this casserole for you so that we could make lunch. I knew you probably didn’t have time to cook. Since you are working from home, can we come in?” I looked at Helen, and she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. I looked at her like she must have lost her mind, and maybe a few days with my mother pushed her over the edge. I let them in.

“Why don’t you two have a seat, I’ll get you some iced tea and put out some dishes for lunch.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Mom. Have a seat.” I stared at Helen, and she still had that look of a cat that ate my canary.”So, how’s it going? How was the trip? What have you two been up to?”

Helen said the trip was fine. We stopped along the way, ate lunch and dinner, and stopped at a couple of local tourist places. And then we drove straight here to Helen’s house. We are having a great time together. We like the same food and the same TV Shows. And Helen is so neat her house is neat as a pin. She’s like the daughter I never had.” Helen looked at me after my mother said that, and what she saw was a tear running down my face. Because my mother still had the power to hurt me to my core. Helen said, “she doesn’t mean that. She did talk about you the whole way home, how much she missed you, how she was so proud of you. And she couldn’t ask for a better daughter.”

“Is that true, Mom?”

“Yes, it’s true. But I always thought that you didn’t love me. So, I guess I have always tried to protect myself from all the negative things you said to and about me while you were a teenager. And how you never wanted to visit me or rarely called me.”

“Mom, I always loved you. But I never felt loved by you. I guess we were never really good at understanding one another. It didn’t help that you lied and were a cleptomaniac etc, etc. “

“ Well, I have been seeing a therapist for the last year, and I feel like I have resolved most of those issues. I haven’t stoled anything for over eight months. And I stopped buying things I don’t need. In general, I’m trying to be a better person. And if you give me a second chance, I will try to be a better mother.”

I looked at my mother with disbelief. And then she came over and hugged me tight. And then we both started to cry. And Helen stood there with the biggest smile on her face that I have ever seen. And that my friends became the beginning for me, my mother, and my dear friend, Helen. We became a family. And that was the best day of my life, bar none…

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THE BEST AND WORST MOMENTS OF MY LIFE

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I have arrived at that time in my life when I reflect on the most important and life-changing events I have experienced. One of the biggest challenges I have faced in recent years is acknowledging that I am no longer young and have arrived at the final years.

home in Pitman, New Jersey, 1994- 2016

Over the course of my life, I have had ups and downs. I have suffered losses, and I have experienced successes. At the end of May, I will be celebrating my seventy-second birthday. I often find myself wondering how time passed so quickly. I can say that I have few regrets about my decisions and choices.

When I graduated from high school, I found a job as a dental assistant through my school counselor. Back in the day, in the ‘70S, dentists hired inexperienced young women and then trained them to be chairside assistants who ran the office, answered the phone, made appointments, and confirmed appointments. In addition, I developed the xrays and was responsible for sending out the bills and cleaning the office. Occasionally I even babysat the dentist’s children.

I was given a great deal of responsibility for an eighteen-year-old girl. But as it turned out, I proved myself to be highly efficient at running the office. And I enjoyed working there for a number of years. I worked for Dr. E. G. Wozniak in Haddon Township, NJ.

I was able to purchase a brand new 1970 yellow Volkswagen, rent my own apartment, and live on my own. That job taught me so much more than the skills it took to be a dental assistant. It confirmed to me that I was able to meet any challenges that came my way. I was a confident young woman from that point forward.

When I was twenty-two, I started dating my best friend’s cousin, Bob. And  I decided I wanted to move to Florida, where Bob lived. We got married when I was twenty-three, and he was twenty-five. I was laid off from the insurance company the week after we came back from our honeymoon. I wasn’t able to find a job. And made the decision to go to a hairdressing school, the West Palm Beach Beauty Academy. After completing the eighteen-month program, I was hired to work at the Collonades Hotel, located on Singer Island.  I did hair and facials.

Bob decided that he wanted to attend Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara, California, two years later. Brooks was a school for Photography. We lived in California until he graduated from school three years later. My first job in California was at Robinson’s Department Store selling hats and wigs. I can not tell you how boring that job was. However, I made a friend named Terry Ropfogel, and she told me there was a residential school, St. Vincent’s School, where she volunteered. She told me that they were looking for full-time childcare workers. I loved little kids, so I applied for a job. I kept calling them once a week until they agreed to interview me for a job. I was hired shortly thereafter.

Working at St. Vincent’s turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. The kids were mildly retarded, and some of them had behavior problems.  I must admit that I came to love them like they were my children when Bob graduated from Brooks three years l after we decided to move back to the Philadelphia, New Jersey, area. I wanted to move to the New York City area because I believed Bob would be able to get a job as a photographer there. Bob decided he wanted to buy a house, and he got a job as an electronics technician. And at that point, we purchased a house with the assistance of the Veteran’s benefits that Bob earned while he was in the Navy.

Picture of me and one of my co-workers Stacy Smitter at St. Vincent’s School in California

A year later, Bob and I had our first child, Jeanette. by then, we had been married for seven years. Three years later, I had a second daughter, Bridget. I had always loved kids and wanted to be a mother. And it turned out to be one of my most challenging life experiences. We lived in that small, three-bedroom house in Pennsauken, New Jersey, for thirteen years when our children were young.

My parents passed away eight months apart in 1986 when my children were five and two years old. My dad had lung cancer, and my mother passed away from a complete respiratory and coronary arrest. My mother told me before she passed away that she didn’t regret any of the decisions she had made during her life but only regretted all the things she hadn’t done. Her words had a profound effect on me. The year after she passed away, I decided that I would go to college, which I didn’t have the opportunity to do when I was of college age since I had to get a full-time job when I graduated from high school.

And so, I prepared a portfolio of my artwork and applied to the Hussian School of Art and the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia. I was accepted at both schools. But, I made the decision to attend the Temple Tyler School of Art because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year and financial aid for the second, third, and fourth years.

Tyler School of Art

And so, at the age of thirty-six, I began college as a Freshman, the only adult student. The rest of the Freshman students was seventeen or eighteen years old. Some of them hadn’t even gotten their driver’s licenses yet. I could write an entire book about my art college experience, and perhaps I will someday. Needless to say, it was a challenging and sometimes difficult four years. I graduated Summa Cum Laude at the age of forty with teaching credentials. My class stood up at graduation and clapped when my name was called out as a graduating senior. I have to say going to college was probably the best choice I ever made. And although it was challenging, to say the least, I never regretted it for a single moment. My children were ten and seven when I graduated.

After graduation, I applied to every elementary, middle, and high school for an art teacher position. Unfortunately, it turned out that the New Jersey public schools were eliminating the art programs in their schools, and I wasn’t able to find a public school teaching position.

After about a year, I realized I could create my own private art school. And my husband and I started looking for a house that could accommodate our family and several rooms to be used for my art classes. And after several months of looking at residences, I found a house in Pitman, NJ, that had been owned by a neuropsychologist that had been empty for several years since his passing. After several months we were able to purchase it. It had been empty for several years, and we spent the first several; years repairing it and had to put a new roof on it. We lived there for twenty-four years. And I taught art there for many years to kids from four through high school and adults in the evening. Overall it was a wonderful experience, and I met and befriended many of the people who lived in Pitman while teaching there.

When we were ready to retire, we spent the last year we lived there preparing the house for sale. We loved that house so much, and it was difficult to leave it, but it was necessary to sell it since we couldn’t afford to keep it after we both retired from working.

We chose to retire to North Carolina and bought a house about forty-five minutes from Raleigh, NC, in Willow Spring. We have been living here for seven years. During those seven years, I have been doing volunteer work in the Guardian ad Litem in the NC Court. The Guardian Litem are citizens that volunteer to investigate at-risk children and make decisions about their care and where they should live if there is a problem within their homes. And in addition, for the last seven years, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary caring for Parrots, Macaws, and Pheasants. The sanctuary is called Animal Edventure, and it is located in Coats, NC. I have always loved animals, and it seemed a perfect match for me at this time of my life. 

In addition, five and a half years ago, I started this blog and write short stories and memoirs for WRITE ON. I write one new story a week. I also continue to create my artwork in my free time. Who knows what the future holds for me? I am a person with a high energy level, and I hope that in the future, I will continue to contribute in some way for the rest of my life. I can not imagine not doing so. I have always had the desire to do good in my life and be kind to the people I met along the way. I can not imagine wanting to do else wise.

So, here we are, living out our lives in North Carolina. Our youngest daughter lives with us. And although the last several years have been challenging because of the pandemic and inflation, we keep moving forward from one day to the next.

I can not say what lies in my future and that of my family, but I hope my good health will continue, life will give us challenges to meet, and we will succeed in all our endeavors.

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YOU CAN’T ALWAYS TELL A BOOK BY IT’S COVER

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It was 1975, and I had recently graduated from the Palm Beach Beauty Academy in West Palm Beach, Florida. I was looking for a job in one of the local hairdressers and was having difficulty getting hired because of the recent influx of newly graduated from beauty school. I had been living in Florida for just over a year and had not found employment. Apparently, if you weren’t a Floridian resident for a least six months, it was difficult to get hired.

Mansion on Palm Beach Blvd. Florida

Mansion of Palm Beach Blvd. Florida

So, I made the decision to go to a hairdressing school. I’m not entirely sure what made me think that I would be a candidate for hairdressing school since I had no previous experience styling or cutting hair. But all the same, I decided to give it a go.

I decided that it might help if I became acquainted with some of the local residents who might want to hire me or knew someone who was looking for newly licensed hairdressers. One day I was reading through the local newspaper and saw an ad for a family who was looking for someone to spend time with their two sons, who were about ten and twelve years old at that time. I thought, what a great job. I loved kids and had previous experiences with my seventeen nieces and nephews when they were young.

So, the next morning I called the phone number of the Palm Beach family and made an appointment to be interviewed for the job. The woman who answered the phone told me to come over the following morning at ten AM shart, and she gave me directions to their home. She told me it was on Palm Beach Blvd. Directly across from the ocean. I was psyched. Because this was one of the most beautiful and affluent neighborhoods in Palm Beach.

When I arrived at the address I was given, I was shocked. This was not just a big house. It was an absolute mansion. As I was parking across the street, I noticed a limousine pulling into their driveway and disappearing from view behind the house. I locked the car door, and as I was walking across the street, it occurred to me that no one was going to steal my ten-year-old Volkswagon when there were BMWs and Mercedes, and Lamborghinis parked along the sidewalk next to the entrance to the beach. But I loved my car and wasn’t taking any chances.

I walked up the front sidewalk and knocked at the front door. I used the door knocker that looked like it was made out of solid gold. And as I waited, I glanced around the front yard and couldn’t help but admire their front garden, which had absolutely stunning landscaping. The flowers, the palm trees, banana trees. It was a tropical paradise.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and a woman who looked about sixty said, “Yes, can I help you? Do you have an appointment with Madam?”

“An appointment? Yes, I do. I am here to be interviewed by the homeowner as a nanny for her two sons.”

“And you are?”

“Oh, yes, of course, my name is Sarah Carlisle. I spoke to her yesterday. And she told me to come here a three PM sharp. So, here I am.”

“I shall advise Madam that you are here. You may come in and wait in the vestibule. Please wipe your feet on the mat before you come in.”

“The vestibule?” I’m not sure where that is. Can you point the way?”

“What? The vestibule is the entryway of the house. Follow me and wait, and I shall advise Madam that you have arrived, and then I will come and escort you to Madam’s office. Please do not touch anything. It is all priceless antiques.”

“Touch anything, and I wasn’t going to touch anything. Good grief. I’ll just stand here until you come back for me. No worries. I’m trustworthy.”

A couple of minutes later, she returned and said, “Madam will see you now. Just follow me.”

So, I followed her, and I was overwhelmed by everything in my view. In the entryway stood a lifesize sculpture of a naked man and woman embracing. And I was so shocked I said, good lord, loudly,” I had never seen any sculptures outside of a museum. The hallway was tiled in the most gorgeous pattern I’d ever seen.

And then I found myself standing outside of two huge doors that were exquisitely carved with vines growing from the bottom of the panels to the top with gorgeous flowers that, if they had not been carved from wood, I would believe were real. The woman knocked at the door on the right and said something I couldn’t hear to the occupant inside the room. And then she looked to me and said, “you may enter now.” She turned sharply on her heels and walked away. And I thought I hope I don’t have to talk to her again.

I took a deep breath and turned the golden door nob, and waited until I heard someone say, “come in, come in.” somewhat impatiently. I pushed the door wide enough for me to go forward, and there sat a petite woman with short, dark hair and glasses. I wondered who she was and if she was the owner of the house or another snooty employee.

“Oh, I’m so happy you were able to come for an interview, dear. I just know you will love working here and taking care of my two boys. Their last nanny had to leave unexpectedly, and they were really heartbroken. They had become quite attached to her. So, please tell me about yourself and what kind of experience you have with children.”

I decided I wasn’t going to tell her that I had just graduated from hairdressing school since she wouldn’t find that very helpful to have a nanny who cut hair. So, I just said, “well, I recently moved to Florida from the North East, to be more specific, New Jersey. And I have been looking for a job, so far I was hired by a company selling high-risk insurance, and they were having problems of some sort and went out of business. So, I decided to try and get a job working with children since I really love kids.”
“Oh, do you have any children, or did you take care of children in the past?”

“Have children? No, but I do have seventeen nieces and nephews who I started babysitting when I was about eleven. And I just love kids. “

“You started babysitting when you were eleven. I can’t imagine that. Didn’t your mother think you were too young?”

“Well, if she did, she never told me.”

“When can you start? I need someone starting on Monday. I’m going to be doing some out-of-town work, and my former nanny’s mother became ill, and she quit without giving me any notice. The boys were devastated because she had been taking care of them since they were babies. My husband and I have to do a great deal of traveling because of our business.”

I can start tomorrow. But I would like to meet your children before that so that they won’t be upset about a stranger taking care of them. Are they available to meet me now?”

“Yes, let me buz the housekeeper and ask her to bring them down. Or perhaps it would be better if she took you upstairs to their rooms to meet them in their own territory?”

A few minutes later, a tall, thin woman with bright red hair came into the room and said, “you rang?”

“Yes, this young lady is going to start tomorrow as the boys’ new nanny. Would you please take her upstairs and introduce her to the boys? I can’t leave the office right now as I’m expecting a call from a client.”

“Follow me, dear. It’s just up the stairs and down the hall.”, She started up the winding staircase to the second level.  At the top of the stairs was an immense picture window, and I could see the entire property from it. It was a true garden of Eden, complete with Palm Trees and coconuts. And a built-in pool that looked large enough for fifty people to swim in with room to spare. I tried not to gasp.

I followed her down a long, long hallway with tropical plants every few feet, including some tropical hibiscus with flowers as big as my head. The floor looked like handmade tile with the family crest on it. It was so shiny it looked like glass, and I could see my reflection in it. “Here we are, dear. Let me introduce you, and you can get acquainted with them. They really are lovely boys, and I hope you will stay with us for a long time. They were heartbroken when Zelda, the former nanny, left. She had been taking care of them since they were babies. They still haven’t gotten over it.”

And then she knocked at the double door on the left, and I heard a voice say, “come in.”

Two young boys were sitting on an antique rug, and they were pushing little cars around a track. When we walked in, they looked up. And she said, “boys, this is your new nanny Sarah. She is starting work here tomorrow. Her name is Sarah, Sarah Carlisle.

Hi guys, you can call me Sarah. I have been looking forward to meeting you guys. I know we are going to have a lot of fun together. I grew up with three brothers, so I know what boys like to do. In fact, if it is alright with your mom, I would like to schedule a trip to the track to watch car races. One of my brothers works there, and he can get us in any time. And we’ll get the best seats in the house in the first row. What do you think?”

And that’s when the boys started jumping up and down. And then Sarah said, “so how do you feel about baseball? Because I have season tickets for all the best games.”

And that is when the two boys j ran over to Sarah and hugged her, and jumped up and down again. Then Sarah said, “and if you write down a list of your favorite activities, I can make a schedule for them so that every week we can do one of your favorite things.”

 OK, boys, how about we take Sarah for a tour of the house and the yard so when she starts tomorrow, she’ll feel right at home? The boys started tugging on Sarah, “come on, I can’t wait to show you our pool, and you won’t believe this we have a regulation-size pool table. Do you know how to play pool?”

“No, but I would love it if you guys taught me how. That would be awesome. So, how about taking me on that tour now.”

After Sarah was shown the whole house, including an immense attic, she was worn out. The boys seemed to be energized. Which was typical for young boys. They never ran out of energy. She knew this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And she looked forward to every minute of it.

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A JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES BEGINS WITH A SINGLE MISSTEP

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The year I celebrated my twenty-first birthday, I had big plans. No, it’s not what you’re thinking I didn’t go out and get drunk. I didn’t get laid for the first time. I decided that a coming of age journey was in order. No, it wasn’t a remake of Thelma and Louise. Although, considering how it turned out maybe I should have brought Louise with me. Well, I don’t know anybody named Louise, but I do know a Helen, a Joan or Brenda that would have loved to come along.

But you know that’s not my style. I decided that I would go it alone. Why you may ask?  Well, because of all the things I feared, and the list is long, getting lost is at the top of the list.  And running a close second is public speaking and wearing a bikini at the beach.

The Auto Train by Engin Akyurt-Pixabay

I made a list of all the things that I wanted to do once I was a legal adult. I wanted to get up at dawn every day and see the sunrise. I wanted to dye my hair blond. Embrace each day with renewed energy and a positive vibe, no more negativity. I would learn how to parallel park, learn a new language. I was considering Chinese, it would be more of a challenge. Maybe I could learn to write it as well. I’ve always been good at languages. Remember, how good I was at Pig Latin when I was a kid.

Well, I could go on and on, perhaps I should stop prevaricating and get to the point. I had planned the whole trip. Oh, this was decades before the I Phone and Google Maps. I had purchased maps of the East Coast from New Jersey to Florida. I decided I would take the Auto Train. I would have to drive from South Jersey to Lorton, Virginia. Barring unforeseen circumstances and according to my calculations, it was a two hour and forty-minute drive to drive one hundred- and seventy-five-mile drive from my home in South Jersey to Lorton, Virginia.

And then I would board the train and go from Virginia to Sanford, Florida and then drive to West Palm Beach. It was a twenty-four-hour ride on the train.

And believe it or not, I arrived at Lorton, Virginia auto-train with time to spare. Even I was amazed since I had never taken a longer trip than going to Atlantic City about an hour from my parents’ house without getting lost. And I did not have to make a single U-Turn. I kid you not. Since I arrived early, my car was the first one to be loaded onto the train. Of course, what I failed to consider was that would mean my car would be the last one to get off the train in Sanford, Florida.

I watched as my beloved 1970 Volkswagen Beetle was loaded onto the train. I must admit I was somewhat nervous about it. I loved that car; it was my first car. I had purchased it on my own, with money that I earned while working my first real job. I loved that car so much that every morning I got up an hour early to wash it. It was lemon yellow with automatic stick shift. I loved it like it was my first-born child.

After waiting on a bench in Virginia’s August sizzling heat for well over an hour, I was allowed to board the train. I was drenched in sweat. I had my somewhat damp ticket in hand. The Conductor directed me to the box car. As I got onto the train, I realized that most of the passengers that were boarding were families with multiple children, some still in diapers. This was somewhat concerning since I knew we would be driving for twenty-four hours, which meant that at least eight hours of the drive would be overnight. Overnight with a large population of children under the age of five. I could see that this might cause some sleep problems. It turns out that crying babies would be the least of my problems.

As I boarded, the train trip got off to a rocky start. I tripped going up the steps and fell right into the passenger in head of me.  And I might add not very gracefully. I attempted to pull myself up using his leg, mistake number one. Inadvertently, his pants came down around his ankles. And to add insult to injury turns out this guy goes commando.

I was so shocked at the turn of events, I started talking gibberish, or maybe it was pig Latin. It’s kind of a blur now because his reaction was well, a little over the top, in my opinion.

As he yanked up his pants, you know the velvet kind with an elasticized waistband he let loose with a string of expletives that would make Genghis Kahn blush. The last thing he said was, “You better keep clear of me, you stupid bitch. If I see you again, I’m going to toss your fat ass off this train.” Well, I may be a little zaftig, but I’m not fat.

The line of people waiting to board the train behind me was beginning to back up. A couple of young guys grabbed my arms on either side and pulled me up. “Oh, thanks,” I mumbled and prayed I would never seen any of these people again. I had never been so simultaneously embarrassed and terrified at the same time.

I found a ladies room and stepped into a stall. I had myself a mini-breakdown. I may have shed a few tears and I was shaking like a leaf. I took some deep breaths and wiped my tears with toilet paper. When I  finished, I walked over to one of the sinks, and I gazed into the mirror. I realized that I had blood dripping down my face. I must have hit my lip or bit it when I fell. I splashed some cold water on my face and dried it off with a paper towel, the cheap kind that is brown and feels like sandpaper.

I decided that things could only get better from here on out since I couldn’t imagine anything worse happening. You see I was already putting the optimistic point of view into play.  I started to brush my hair but gave up on it as a lost cause.

I stepped out in the hall and looked for the boxcar that was listed on my ticket. It was a good thing that each car was marked because otherwise, I would have been lost as they all looked exactly the same to me.

I swayed from one end of the train to the other. The movement of the train was somewhat like walking on the deck of a boat in a rough sea. I found the right boxcar and sat down in my assigned seat with a deep sigh.

It turns out the seats were three across. So, it was going to be a tight fit. I shut my eyes and started doing some deep breathing. And I fell fast asleep probably from the shock and stress. I woke up abruptly, I looked around, unsure at first where I was. Something was banging on the back of my seat. I looked to my right there was an elderly man fast asleep on my shoulder, his drool was running down my sweaty arm. And to my left was a nursing mother. Who looked younger than I was. I was not in a good mood, I swore as loud as I could “I don’t know who is kicking my seat, but if you don’t stop, the shit is going to hit the fan.” I had never really cursed before, but I thought this occasion was a good time to start.

Unfortunately, I woke up both the drooling ancient man and the sleeping baby and mother. The baby let out a wail that would have raised Lazarus from the dead for a second time. Little Mama, well let’s just say if looks could kill, I would have been breathing my last breath.

“Hey Girlie, what’s all the racket about? Can’t you tell people are trying to sleep?” What’s all the racket about? Kids nowadays don’t have respect for their elders. I didn’t respond immediately because my attention is drawn to his lower lip, where a long string of drool is suspended. My stomach lurched. “Sorry, I was startled by somebody kicking my seat back. It’s been a long day.”

I decided that this would be a good time to go get something to eat. Hopefully, when I returned, everything would be copesetic again. Or at least everyone would have gone back to sleep. Since I’m working on being positive. I choose to believe this until reality smacks me in the face with the truth.

I meander down through one compartment after another. And then I hear before I see what I think must be the diner compartment. I stick my head in the doorway. And low and behold there looks like there is a party going on. It is loud, way past noisy. There is a yellow haze. It could be cigarette smoke, but most likely pot—smoking with one hand and drinks in the other. And now, we are talking; this is the type of experience I have been looking forward to.

I push my way through the crowd and find a seat at the bar. “Hey bartender, can I get something to eat here. My stomach thinks I cut my own throat?” He takes one look at me and asks for my ID. I take it out of my back pocket and hand it over to him. He is a scary-looking dude; he has a scar running the length of his face from his hairline down. I shutter to think how that happened. There is a tear tattooed underneath his right eye. Half his mustache is missing. I don’t even want to know the significance of that. He looks at me; he looks at the ID. “Ok, close enough, we have hamburgers and French fries, the first beer is on the house.”

“Awesome, well-done, please.”

“Well done, you’ll be lucky if it ain’t still mooing, honey.”

My eye starts twitching a little. I look around the room. My first thought was maybe I’m still sleeping because this looks like a bar scene from Casablanca. Would that make me Ilsa? I look around for my Rick. Unfortunately, I don’t see him, but maybe he is in the men’s room. The only thing missing here is the designer gowns and the tuxedos. I guess this is the poor man’s version.

My hamburger arrives, my mouth is watering; this is the first thing I’ve had to eat all day. It’s not that bad, and the French fries are just the way I like them salty and crisp.

At that moment, I feel someone’s hand grasp my shoulder. I look up, and who do I see, Pants Guy, or should I say no pants guy. I gulp down the last bite of my hamburger whole and almost choke. I grab my free beer and swallow. His grip is getting tighter. He is leering down at me. But not in a good way, if you know what I mean.

My breathing is becoming irregular, in short gasps. I’m hyperventilating. I try to slow my breathing down. And then it comes to me, go completely limp. he is so surprised that he lets go of my shoulder. I drop like a lead balloon,  I hit the ground. And before he knows what is happening, I‘m up and running and out the door.

I run through several boxcars. The constant swaying of the boxcars is making me feel nauseous. I hear a voice in the distance, yelling.” You wait until I catch up with you. I’m going to make you regret the day you were born.” And then a roaring sound, I’m not sure if that was him, or my intestines.

I hear music, I follow it. I see an open boxcar. And propel my body through the entrance.  It’s another bar or a cabaret. I’m not sure.  There is the sweet smell of pot and many voices talking at once. I can’t see clearly because of the smoke. I give a silent prayer of thanks for the smoke. If I can’t see anyone, then neither can the Neanderthal that is chasing me.

Someone grabs my arm and pulls me in. The next thing I know, I’m dancing with a guy with Do Wop hair. You know the greasy hair that swoops on across the forehead and down over one eye. He is wearing tight jeans and a cowboy shirt with fringe. I go with it. Better than doing the Last Tango in Paris with No Pants Guy. He pulls me in tight. I press my face against his chest. I’m thinking, safe at last, and then Do Wop swirls me out expectantly, and I let out a yelp. Then he yanks me not very gently back into his chest. And that, unfortunately, is when my intestines and I say adieu to the very rare hamburger and the warm beer. I projectile vomit across the floor and all over Do Wop.

It turns out Do Wop is a sympathetic vomiter. And it seems as if he has had a great deal to eat prior to coming to this bar. Apparently, he had Mexican food, unfortunately, for me and everyone behind me. And to add insult to injury, this set off a chain reaction of vomiting across the room. The smell alone was overwhelming, and then people started slipping and sliding all over the place. And that’s all she wrote as they say. The party was over.

As I crawl across the slimy and disgusting floor, I see No Pants Guy. I lay flat on the floor and hope for the best. He backs out of the room. No doubt blown back by the sheer stink of it all. I take a deep breath, and then immediately regret it.

As I rise, I consider throwing myself off the train and just hoping for the best. I crawl out into the passageway and look one way and then the other. I don’t see hide nor hair of my nemesis. I slip and slide until I see a lady’s room sign and shove open the door. I look right and left, and it is all clear. I enter somewhat trepidatiously.

As I once again gaze into the mirror, I realize I have reached a new level of looking like shit. A rare accomplishment for the first day of my twenty-first year. I congratulate myself. I turn on the cold water tap and splash lukewarm water onto my face. The water has a weird metallic smell. I wonder, where is this water coming from? The train isn’t connected to water lines. It must be stored in tanks under the train or something. This thought leads to another less savory thought where does all the shit and piss go? Do they flush it out the last boxcar? Do they store it until they arrive at the final destination? It is at this point in my stream of consciousness; I realize that my thoughts have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I cup my hands and throw the water into my mouth and rinse and spit. I‘m convinced I’ll never get the disgusting taste out of my mouth.

I stick my head out of the bathroom door; I think I see a kangaroo. I’m thoroughly exhausted. I believe I must be hallucinating.  My mind rejects the vision. So, I continue walking out the door and towards what I believe isn’t real. I shake my head and reach out to touch it. And that’s when I realize that this isn’t a vision but real. The kangaroo pulls back his arm and then strikes me in the chest I stagger backward a couple of feet. I’m momentarily so flabbergasted that I can’t catch my breath.

Imaginary or not, that thing can punch like Mike Tyson. I run in the other direction. Perhaps I inhaled so much pot fumes and that it was indeed imaginary. Or none of this is happening. And I’m fast asleep and dreaming, between drooling old man and nursing mother. I pray for the second option.

I decide that I’m going to head back to my boxcar and squeeze into my seat and not rise again until we reach Sanford, Florida. As I head back toward my destination, I fantasize lying on the beach and catching some rays and drinking a Margarita with a tanned and toned surfer dude. I convince myself that this is still possible. I just have to get back into my assigned seat and keep a low profile until we reach our destination. We will probably reach it in about fourteen hours. Meanwhile, I can catch some Zzzz’s.

I double-time it back to my boxcar.  Hopefully, there won’t be any further excitement or altercations. This day seems like the longest day of my life. I arrive at my boxcar and look in, fearing at first that my nemesis will somehow have found out where I was sitting and lie in wait for me. Luckily, this was just paranoia at work. And no one was waiting for me.

I walk down the aisle. I see what appears to be two empty seats where I was sitting earlier. I arrive and look down at the seats, and I see that drooling man is now slumping over into my seat. I fear the worse that he is dead and decomposing. I look at nursing mother is curled around her baby and sound asleep. Thank god for small favors.

I consider trying to clandestinely make a loud noise and wake him up. Nope, that would wake up the mother, and even worse the infant.

And so, I gently shove him over into his own space. I grasp his sleeve and push him ever so gently. It works except he is now slumped over onto the mother. I consider this; it works for me. I plop down quietly and immediately fall into a fretful sleep.

I wake up abruptly to a high-pitched screaming. My eyes pop open, I fear for the worse. Was it the kangaroo or No Pants Dude? Will this nightmare never end?

I look to the sound of the ungodly noise and it is the infant. It has awakened and is now bawling like there is no tomorrow. “Dear god, what is it? Why is it screaming, is it in pain? Please make it stop.”

“Sorry, he is just hungry or needs his diaper changed. I will have to take him to the lady’s room. They have a changing table in there. If you could just get up for a moment, I would appreciate it.”

As she gets up with her infant in tow, the old man slumps further into the other seat. My god, but he is a deep sleeper. I attempt to pull him up. He is like a sack of potatoes. He still doesn’t awaken, great I think. And I close my eyes and am out like a light in short order.

I am awakened by someone tugging at my sleeve. I mutter,” for the love of all that is holy, would you please leave me alone.”

“Sorry, but could you please let me in my seat again. I have to feed my baby, or he will start crying again.”

“Yeah, ok, ok.” When I get up, the old man falls right back into my seat. “What’s wrong with this guy anyway, nothing wakes him up?”

The mother touches the old man’s face and then grabs his wrist and holds it for a minute. “Shit,” she screams, this guy is dead. I was wondering why he slept so long. We will have to call the conductor or somebody in charge.”

She pulls the cord next to her seat. It says emergency only. Well, this certainly qualifies as an emergency to me. There is a loud squealing noise, and then a lurch as the train grinds to an abrupt stop. Everybody wakes up, some start screaming, mostly kids but quite a few burly young men.

By the time the train comes to a complete stop, everyone has calmed down. There is an announcement over the intercom that everyone should remain seated until they are told otherwise. About fifteen minutes pass by, and then two EMTs and a police officer come on board.

When they arrive in the boxcar, I start feeling a little sick to my stomach. I hope I won’t start throwing up again. I look up to see the police officer standing over me. “Alright, ladies, can you describe to me what has occurred here.

Well, I just came back to the boxcar, and I couldn’t sit down because he was slumped over into my seat. When I moved him, he just sort of plopped into his seat. Like a dead weight. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it that way. It was such a shock. I’ve never seen a dead body before. And to tell you the truth, it has been a tough day for me. Oh, sorry.”

“And you miss?

“Well, I thought he was asleep for most of the trip. He didn’t really say anything to me at all. I was taking care of my baby, and as she said, it has been a really long day.”

“Do you two young ladies know each other? What is your relationship?”

Simultaneously, we both said, “No, I never ever talked to her. I never met her before. I don’t know her.”

The policeman said, “ok, you two will have to make a written statement before we leave. And at some time in the future, you may have to testify.”

I looked over at nursing mother. She looks like she is going to start crying. Which made me start crying. And before you knew it, we were both crying—a perfect end to a perfect day.

After they took the body out, she and I look at each other, and then we hug. I am not much of a hugger, but somehow it did make me feel better after that. “My name is Susan, and you are?”

“Well, this has been some trip and a weird way to meet somebody, my name is Joanne. And this is my baby Gerald. He’s four months old. We are on our way to see his grandparents in West Palm Beach.  God, what a day.

After that, we just sat back in our seats and didn’t say another word. I mean, what more can you say after somebody you didn’t know or even talk to dies in the seat next to you. I wonder what kind of lesson I was learning about being an adult from this experience. I still don’t know.

A police woman came in and told the two of us that we were going to have to move to other seats in a different boxcar. While the police look over the scene. I don’t know what they were looking for? Drool maybe? Sorry, I know that’s not funny, but what can I say. I can be a real jerk sometimes.

After I was told where my new seat was, I found my way without any difficulty. Maybe I was developing a sense of direction. Who knows. The new boxcar and seat look exactly the same sans nursing mother, I mean Joanne and her baby and the old man. Oh, there I go being a jerk again.

The next few hours of the trip passed without any further incidence probably because I never moved out of the seat. I just stared out the window as the sky gradually went from inky black to gray. And then I watched as the sun rose and moved higher into the sky. I notice that the trees changed from Maples and Oak to Palm Trees.  The sunrise in Florida is so beautiful it takes your breath away. The sun slowly rises and highlights the blues and pinks with gold. I will always remember that more than anything else I experienced on that trip. Because well, it was a new day and a new beginning for me.

When we arrive in Sanford, I start getting nervous about getting off the train. I was so afraid I might run into No Pants guy. I step down out of the train along with a hundred other people. It had only been twenty-four that’s for sure. I sit on a bench in the morning sun, and I think, holy crap it feels like I stepped into an oven. The heat and humidity are unbelievable. You just can’t believe how hot it is in Florida until you experience it. I was going to have to wait a long time for my car because it was the first one that was boarded. I keep on the lookout for No Pants Guy. I thought I was in the clear but all of a sudden, he burst out of the boxcar about thirty feet away . but I feel like a different person.

“ What the hell?” I am so startled that I stand up quickly and was about to start running. But then from the bowels of the boxcar, something jumps out and lands within three feet of No Pants Guy. It’s the kangaroo, unbelievable. I just stand there transfixed.

No Pants Guy takes off like a bat out of hell. And the kangaroo takes a giant leap. Before you could bat an eye he kicks No Pants Guy where the sun don’t shine. And that is all she wrote, my friend. Welcome to Florida.

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