Tag Archives: NJ

LIFE IS SHORT, MAKE EACH DAY COUNT

Pitman Theater- Pitman, NJ Photo by Bob Culver

The man skipped, jumped, and ran for short distances as he made his way down the city street. He was on the main thoroughfare, but he could have been anywhere. He seemed to have no real destination in mind. But he was in an awful hurry to get there. Suddenly, he stopped cold and ran to the curb. An old bike was parked on the sidewalk. It was a vintage 1950’s red Schwinn Panther. A girl’s bike with a basket on the handlebars and a knee-action spring fork, whitewall tires, chrome-plated fenders, and a slightly rusty chrome-trimmed tank with a built-in horn that had an American Flag attached to it.

In addition to the Flag, the bike is covered with First Prize ribbons of every color and condition imaginable. It must have been a childhood collection of awards for spelling, penmanship, grammar, math, and art. They hung from every surface of the bike. It was quite a sight. He hopped on the bike with a grace that seemed impossible for a man his age. He had a gray scraggly beard down to his chest. His mustache was waxed and stood out four inches on either side of his rosy cheeks. His hair was long, and he wore it in two braids down his back. There was a tiny flag on each braid. The kind you saw years ago when you ordered a drink at a bar on the Fourth of July.

He continued down the street on the bike at breakneck speed. He started singing loudly. At first, it was difficult to understand because of his speed and his raspy voice. But once he got his momentum up, he sang in a deep baritone voice. He was singing The Fortunate Son by Credence Clearwater Revival. His voice grew louder, and stronger as he flew down the street on his two-wheeled chariot. He threw back his head and sang, “Some folks are born made to wave the flag. They’re red, white and blue. And when the band plays, Hail to the Chief, they point the cannon at you.”

Suddenly, a voice rang out,” Sam, what’s your hurry come on over here and let’s have breakfast. Sam pulled over to the curb with alacrity and skill. He put the kickstand down and said,” Long time no see you old goat.”

“Look who’s calling me an old goat, Walt. You look like you haven’t taken a good look in the mirror for about fifty years.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Well, so where’s this breakfast going to take place?”

“How about at The Sunny Side Up breakfast place down the street?”

“Can you believe it?

 I just found my bike after two days. Some kid must have grabbed it, drove downtown, and just ditched it.  I don’t know what I do without my Old Glory.

“I bet no one would recognize you without that old bike, Sam. It’s really a collector’s piece, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Walt, but it’s more than that. It’s my connection between the past and the present. That bike belonged to my wife when she was a little girl. God rest her soul.”

“Yes, Marie was a fantastic woman, I don’t know how you were so lucky to marry her, half the guys in town were in love with her.”

“We had a happy marriage I have no complaints other than she left me too soon. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of her.”

“So, Sam what have you been up to lately? I know you are always up to something?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I have been working pretty hard. I got a job repairing the organ in the theater. Well, I not just repairing it, I’m restoring it. You know the one that was used back in the day when Vaudeville used to come to the Pitman Theater. Did you know it’s a player piano as well?”

“No, I didn’t, Sam.”

“Well Walt, I just started working on it a couple of days ago. But I already found one of the problems. There were some letters hidden under the strings that were inhibiting the percussion of the instrument. The letters looked really old.  It’s possible they even predated the piano. I can’t figure out how they might have ended up where I found them. I believe they might have been deliberately placed there by someone.”

“You’re kidding me, Sam. I would love to take a look at them. Let’s talk about this when we’re eating breakfast.”

As they walked through the door of the Sunny Side Up restaurant, a bell chimed and Henry Decker the cook yelled out,” Sit anywhere you like, our waitress called out sick. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Hey, so what can I get you guys? What’s going on? It looks like you two both swallowed a canary or two.”

“Well, I’ll have the special, plus two biscuits and a black coffee straight up, thanks.”

“Hey, that sounds good to me, make that two. Henry.”

“Well, Sam here is about to tell me about some letters he found in the player piano that he’s repairing. I mean restoring for the theater. You know that old organ that was used back in the Vaudeville days.”

“You don’t say, what kind of letters?”

“To tell you the truth I’ve been so busy that I haven’t taken the time to look them over. But they’re all yellow. So, I know they’re old. I’ll let you know once I study them a bit.”

“Ok then Sam, do that. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your coffee, and then I’ll cook you up some fried eggs and ham, Sam. Get it, fried eggs and ham, Sam?”

“Yeah, ’cause I haven’t heard that a million times before. Get busy. And don’t give up your day job to be a comedian, Henry.”

“Sam, you have always been such a spoilsport, you were an old man before your time. I think you might have been born an old man. Lighten up already, won’t you? So, Sam tells me something about the history of the Theater and the organ.”

“Well, Walt, it’s really kind of interesting, I’d be happy to. The Broadway Theater opened up in 1926. Movies but also Vaudeville shows were shown. There were about one thousand seats. Some of the most famous acts and performers played there. Would you believe that Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, Abbot and Costello? Not to mention Jerry Lee Lewis and George Carlin. I really loved George Carlin. And a lot more, real stars.

“That’s really something, right here in our little town of Pitman. I guess people came from all over to see it.”

“I imagine they did. Wouldn’t that be something if we saw all those great performers back in the day.”

“I’ll tell you something, Walt, I really consider it an honor to be repairing that organ. It really is a thing of beauty. Stop by and I’ll show you what I’ve been doing, it’s not everybody that has the skill to work on a vintage organ like this one. And you can take a look at those letters I was telling you about.”

“Here ya go fellas, enjoy. I have to keep moving since I’m the staff today. Talk to you later.”

“Come on Walt, let’s go, that was a great meal. Times a wasting.”

As they walk down Main Street, they run into the editor of the town newspaper. She stops them on their way into the theater. “Hey, guys, what’s happening?”

“Hello Constance, I’m just going to show Walt the Kimball Organ that I’m restoring. Would you like to come along?”

“Sure, I have about a half-hour to kill before my next meeting with the Pitman Historical Society. We are trying to find ways of funding the repairs on the Grove Building, especially the old Methodist Meeting Hall.”

As they step into the main hall, they all stop and look around. Constance exclaims, “Wow, I’m always surprised when I come in here. It’s really something, isn’t it a grand place? Those chandeliers are just breathtaking. You know I really ought to do another pictorial about this place. It’s really coming together. It looks great.”

“Here it is. Oh, Constance, I was telling Walt that one of the reasons the organ wasn’t operating was that there were some old letters preventing the organ from working properly.”

“Really, Sam? Well, let’s have a look at it.”

The three gazed down at the organ. “Yep, just how I remember it. This will be a real centerpiece when you finished, Sam. You are doing a great job here. We all appreciate your time and talent. I bet there aren’t too many people left who would know how to work on this instrument.”

“Thanks, Constance, oh, here are those letters I was telling you about.”

Constance picks up the letters and begins scanning the top one. “What the? Hey, this sounds like a love letter. It’s signed, your Raymond. Let me see that envelope, Sam. What the… This is Raymond Goldstone Sr. Well, I’ll be dammed Raymond Goldstone, the magician. Wait, who is he writing to? Let me see the first page again. It says, Dear Madeleine. Do you know who that is?”

“No, not offhand I don’t, but I would guess it is someone that worked in the theater in the late 1920 and early 1930s. I bet you could find out Constance. Don’t you have copies of all the old newspapers from back then?”

“You’re right. We do. Let me see a couple more of the letters, Sam.”

“Sure, here you can take them. They might get lost in here with all the construction that is going on.”

“Sam, Walt, I  have an inspiration. We can publish these letters in The Pitman News and World Report once a month like a serial. People would eat this up, it would get more people from out of town to read and subscribe to the paper. And maybe even bring people to the Theater to see the scene of the crime so to speak. But I’m going to have to do a lot of research first. This is so exciting, I’m so happy I ran into you two days. I’m really psyched.”

“Hey, do you really think this will work, Constance?”

“You bet I do, and I think we could get this to go national. And then we’re talking big time. Pitman is really going to become famous. Raymond Goldstone, one of the world’s most talented and famous magicians in love with a hometown Pitman lady. I have to go and start doing some research. I’ll let you two know what I found out. Let’s meet again on Monday morning at Sunny Side Up for coffee and I’ll let you know what or if I found out who our mysterious Madeleine is.”

“Alright, great Sam, Walt, I’m excited about this. It could be the answer to our prayers.”

On Monday morning Sam and Walt are waiting patiently on the bench outside Sunny Side Up when they see her heading in their direction.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late. Something always happens at the last minute when I’m about to go out the door. Oh well, forget about all that. I have some news. I think I have a candidate for our mysterious Madeleine. And perhaps a picture of her. There was Madeleine Summers who was the costume designer for all the Vaudeville Shows back in the day. Apparently, she was the daughter of one of the founding fathers of Pitman. So, all of this must have been kept under wraps. Her family was very much involved in the Methodist Church.”

 

“You gotta be kidding me. Can you imagine the stink if anyone back then found out about her and Raymond? So, hand it over, I want to see the picture of this femme fatal.”

Wait a minute, and I want to see it too?” Sam chimes in.

Alright, Sam, you too, Walt, take a gander. I imagine she was considered quite the looker back in the day. Was she married?”

“Not that I could find any evidence of, I guess she would have been considered an Old Maid. Of course, people got married young back then. Usually, the man was quite a bit older than the bride.”

“Wow, Connie, she was a looker—the face of an angel. Well, I guess a fallen angel. But still quite a beauty. Those eyes are mesmerizing, indeed quite the looker. Do any of her family live in Pitman live here any longer?”

“Not that I can find any evidence of Walt which is good since we wouldn’t want any descendants causing any trouble. Well. I guess she didn’t have any children, or it would be in the census. At least none that I could find.

“From what I have been able to glean, the last family member was a sibling of Madeleine. One Matilda, who was a few years younger than Madeleine and she never married either. Which is a little weird, but nonetheless? Neither one ever married. So says the court documents I spent three days perusing. Oh, one more thing I found some pictures of Raymond doing his famous cutting a woman in half with a buzz saw. And it looks like she must have filled in a couple of times for his assistant. Take a gander at this.”

“Look at her. That costume must have caused a real stir back then. Weren’t most women still wearing wool bathing suits down to the knees back then?”

“No, I think by the early 1930, ’s Latex was invented, and women wore one-piece latex form-fitting bathing suits. But nothing like this outfit. Walt.”

“Hey, Walt, let me have a look already.”

“Take it easy, Sam, you don’t want to have a stroke or something. It might be more than you can take.”

“Woah, she was a looker, all right.”

“OK, you guys settle down. She passed away in the early 1970s. Apparently, never married. No kids, as I told you before. I don’t know what happened between them.  Or when it ended but I do know that Goldstone toured all over the country for a while and he did some spots on TV. He retired in the early 1950s. He was married and, of course, had a son named after him. Raymond Goldstone Jr., was a magician as well. I guess you could call it a family business.”

“Connie, is there any indication in the letters that his wife knew about what was going on between Harry Sr. and Madeleine?”

“No, Walt, not in any of the letters. But I did find out that Goldstone Sr. was married three times. So, I don’t know the timeline of these marriages. But back then, three times was not all that common. But if you are a famous magician and you travel all the time. Well, you get lonely. And women are sometimes attracted to famous and glamorous people. And a magician, you can expect many women would be flattered by his attention.”

“Well, Connie, what do you think about publishing one of the letters?”

“Walt, I think we could do that without revealing the names of the Blackstone and Madeleine. See if we get any response from the readers. Let me get one of the first letters, and you can publish it. See what happens. Here’s one that I think will get some attention and not too risqué.”

Dear Ray, I miss you so much. Each moment without you feels like an eternity. I feel like I have known you all my life. You understand me like no other person I’ve ever known. You brought such magic and light into my life. And without you, there is only darkness. I miss your magical touch. I miss your breath against my skin. I have never trusted anyone as I trust you with my heart, my soul. Every part of me yearns for you. Every minute of my life is a moment wasted without you in it. The distance between us might as well be the distance between the Earth and the sun. There is only a void where you once lie next to me. Please, my love, tell me when I can see you again. Where can we meet? Just say the word, and I will be there.  Love, Maddy.

“Walt, what do you think? How about you, Sam? Should I go ahead and print it? No names; maybe we could give some hints about the time and circumstances surrounding this affair. And let people guess their identities. What do you two think?”

“Go for it. Connie.”

“Yeah, as Walt says, go for it.”

“Connie, let me and Sam know what kind of feedback you have about the story. “

“Alright, I will, and if I have any news between now and our next meeting, I’ll contact you.”

“Great, Connie, we’ll see you next week, same place, same time. Take Care.”

“Bye Walt, bye Sam, see you soon.”

The following Friday night, Connie gives Walt a call. “Hello, Walt, this is Connie. I’m glad I caught you at home. I don’t know if you read the Pitman News and World Report this past week, but I published the article. And I included the love letter. And my phone hasn’t stopped ringing all week. You know what a sleepy town Pitman is? Well, get ready because things are going to get exciting really soon.”

“Exciting, in what way, Connie?”

“Walt, well, get this; one of the former residents of Pitman still gets the Pitman News, and World Report sent to her in the mail. And she has been living in New York City for the past five years. She happens to work on Fifth Avenue, and she is an actress. And she’s doing a play on 42nd Street. She knows a lot of famous people in the City.

“Yeah, so what?

“So, she contacted a writer for the New York Times that she dated for a while. And, he loved the story, and he’s going to be coming here to talk to guess who?”

“OK, Connie, I’ll bite. Who does he want to talk to?”

“Oh, Walt, us. What do you think? You, me, and Sam.”

“And if he likes what he hears and sees, the story could go national. And then, who knows what will happen? It could really put Pitman on the map. And our theater will really get some attention then. How about we meet for breakfast in the middle of the week? Say on Thursday and discuss any new possibilities. And Walt, we can then go with you to the theater and see how the renovations are coming along.”

 On Thursday morning at nine o’clock sharp, Sam arrives on his bike, and Walt pulls up to the curb in his 1957 mint condition Cherry-red Chevy Bel Air two-door hardtop. “Hey, guys and gals. I’m really enjoying getting out and eating breakfast with you two. Since I usually spend most of the day alone working in the theater on the piano.”

“Hello Sam, I must say I’m enjoying the break too. I rarely get to sit down and eat. I usually eat takeout on my way from one place to another. So, Sam, how are the renovations on the piano going anyway?”

“Connie, things are going along swimmingly. In fact, I will soon be finished. You were so wired about Raymond Goldstone and the woman. You haven’t asked about the player piano in a while. I have made some real headway. I believe I will have it back in working condition in a couple of weeks. It has been really challenging too. I don’t think I mentioned it before, but this piano is unique. It is actually a 3/8 Kimball theatre pipe organ. A unique instrument considering its size. Did you know there is a pipe organ blower room in the basement? I had to replace some of the pipes.”

 “That’s fantastic, Sam; I’m proud of you. Not too many people with your skills around anymore, pretty much a lost art.”

“Thanks, Connie, and I have enjoyed every minute of it. Hey, my stomach is growling.”

“Speaking of which, you two, I already ordered breakfast for the three of us. Since we always get the same thing. It should be ready in a moment or two. Let’s go in.

 “Connie, maybe you should get the newspaper’s photographer out to the theater and take some pictures of the theater and the player piano. It would be great publicity. And everyone should be informed of the great work our hometown boy here, Sam, has done.”

“You’re right, Walt, that’s a great idea. But do you really think there is a photographer on the Pitman News and World Report’s staff?”

“Isn’t there?”

“Oh, you got to be kidding me, Walt? I’m the writer and the editor and the publisher and the photographer. I run the whole thing from top to bottom.”

“You’re kidding, I didn’t realize that. You are a walking, talking dynamo. Aren’t you, Connie?”

“Yeah, Walt, that’s me, the human dynamo.”

“Oh wait, less talk and more eating; here comes our food. I’m starved.” Sam interjects.

“Well, that really hit the spot. Do you want to split the bill or what?”

“Sam, Connie, let me take care of this. And I think we should see how your piano is coming and the restoration of the theater. It might be possible that we’ll be holding a celebration in the theater. If everything goes the way, I hope it will. Let’s go.”

“I’ll take care of the tip, Sam and Walt. Let’s hit the road.”

 “So, here we are, times a waste. Well, Connie and Walt, do you notice anything different about the front of the Theater? No, well, why don’t you cross the other side of Broadway and take a look at the Marquee? Alright, do you see anything different from over there?”

“Wow, this is fantastic. It says, “Grand Reopening on May 18th.” Wait, isn’t that the day the Spring Craft Fair begins this year? What a great idea, at least 10,000 people come to the fair.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Walt, that was my idea because I knew the piano would be ready and the renovations will be completed this week. Can you believe it? Come on, let’s go in, and you can take a gander. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

As they walk into the vestibule, Walt and Connie stand in awe staring at the chandeliers. The lights are sparkling through the crystals and sending rays of light on the ceiling and the walls. The plaster molding is intact and painted in the original colors.

“Sam, it really looks gorgeous. Is this new carpet on the floor?”

“Nope, we had a specialty company that cleans vintage rugs come in and clean all the carpets and made a few repairs. They really did an amazing job. And the best thing is that they didn’t charge anything because we are going to set up a table for them at the craft fair.

You know there are a lot of people here in Pitman living in Victorian Houses that have vintage carpets and can use their service. Plus, they are going to advertise in the newspaper and on the internet and use pictures of the Theater.”

“Well, what about the molding? It looks new?”

“Connie, I think I mentioned before they found the original molds in the basement of the theater. And we hired a plasterer in Mullica Hill to make molding from the original molds to replace the damaged ones. Don’t they look great?”

“Ok, so let’s go look inside the theater. I left the lights on so you would get the full effect of the Victorian lighting and the stage lit up around the piano and the orchestra pit.”

“Tada, kind of magical, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you can say that again Sam. It is absolutely magical. Just the effect we wanted it to have when it is shown to the public.”

“Alright, take a seat, and I’ll turn down the lights and turn on the piano. Close your eyes. I’ll tell you when I want you to look.”

Sam makes his way behind the stage and hits the lights on the orchestra pit, and then comes on stage and turns on the player piano. As Walt and Connie look about in awe, they hear. “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” soundtrack. And they start clapping. And then they see a movie screen descends, and There is Judy Garland singing her heart out.

“Oh, Sam, I am so impressed. The theater looks amazing. And Judy Garland up there on the screen, who could top her?”

“Here’s my baby, and the surprise is, she’s finished, completely restored to her grand self. Here’s a little background information just in case you don’t realize how awesome this piano is. First of all, it is a self-playing piano. It has a mechanism that operates and controls the piano with pre-recorded music on this perforated paper called rolls. And this beauty here is also a pipe organ. And as I mentioned before, there is a blower room in the basement. It’s now in excellent condition, and the piano had no vacuum leaks. I was able to contact The QRS Company out of Buffalo, New York, and I ordered all new rolls.”

“Congratulations, Sam, you have really surpassed our expectations.”

“Thanks, Connie it was challenging, and I’m proud of myself. I have already received two calls from prospective clients who would like me to see if I can get their player pianos in working order.”

“Oh Sam, let me get some pictures of you and this beautiful player piano that’s also a pipe organ. Why don’t you stand next to the piano? And that way, we get the piano in all of its beauty next to one of the few people who could have resurrected it. Wonderful, I have some great shots to choose from for the paper this week.

—–“Great job, Sam. I knew you had it in you. Let’s go take a look at the rest of the theater. And see how much progress has been made.”

“I have to make a stop in the ladies’ room, guys. I’ll meet you in the lobby in a few minutes. And then I have some news to tell you.”

“Sure, Connie, take your time; we’ll wait for you.”

“Thanks, guy. I won’t be long.”

Walt and Sam are walking around the lobby, looking at all the subtle changes that have occurred since the renovation began. “Oh, Walt, look over here at the snack counter. They found an original popcorn popper from the early 1920s and get this a cotton candy machine.”

“Oh, Sam, they are really awesome. They are going to blow people away and look at all that candy. Including some of my favorites, red hot dollars, candy buttons, watermelon slices, green leaves, licorice whips, and my very favorite sugar daddies. I feel a sugar rush just looking at all this candy.”

“Oh, hey guys, sorry to take so long. Well, it really looks great. Look at all that candy. You know, when I was a kid, I practically ruined my teeth with all the candy I ate. At Halloween, I used to go out Trick or Treating until ten o’clock at night. I had a pillowcase, and I would fill it to the top. Then the next day I would eat so much of it. I would feel sick.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You can add my name to that list to Connie and Walt. I was a candyholic. So, what’s the big surprise, Connie?”

“OK, hold on, this is going to make the top of your head blow off. Ready…”

“Yeah, we’re ready. Tell us already, Connie.”

“Well, a few weeks back, I mentioned that I knew a guy who knew a guy who worked on the NY Times, and he wrote an article about what we are doing here in Pitman Theater. And he mentioned all the famous people that played in our little town. And guess what???”

“What already? What do you want a drum roll?” asked Walt.

“Couldn’t hurt Walt. Well, one of his readers is distantly related to our own Raymond Goldstone, and he has agreed to come to Pitman the day of the grand reopening, and he inherited all that remains of the Goldstone’s magic box, including the buzz saw. And get this, he is a magician, and he is willing to perform some of his magic in our own little Pitman Theater. That’s right here in person the day of the Grand Reopening and the Pitman Craft Show. Ta Da.”

“Holy Mackerel, this is absolutely awesome. This is going to put our town on the map.”

“Yeah, it will, and I am going to advertise this event from now until the Big Day—all thanks to our buddy here, Sam. Who has turned out to be quite the magician himself. Take a bow, buddy. You are our hero. Take a bow, Sam, you deserve it.”

And with that, Sam took a deep bow. His face is as red as a beet. He never felt this good in his whole life. His smile reaches from ear to ear. And the day of the Craft Fair, people come from far and wide and had to be bussed from all the small towns around Pitman. There isn’t a single parking spot left for miles. Over forty thousand people showed up. And it did indeed put the little town of Pitman on the map.


The Bells of St. Mary’- Highschool Graduation

I wake up, and my first thought is today is my last day of high school. I have this fear that someone will tell me that I’m not going to graduate and will have to start all over. I know it’s a ridiculous thought, but still, it could happen. I look at my hand and see my high school ring. It bears the name St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy and 1969. My high school yearbook is sitting on the floor next to my bed. So, it must be true. This is it. I’m graduating. 

Can you believe it’s 1969? Where did the time go? I can remember my younger self going to my first day of grammar school and being terrified. I guess that was about 1957. And here I am embarking on the world., I have babysat my nieces and nephews since I was about eleven. But this is my first real job and I’ll be getting a paycheck.

I was hired a dental assistant for Dr. Edward G. Wozniak in Oaklyn, in NJ.  I knew nothing about working in an office, let alone a dental office. Sister Eileen Marie the principal and Mother Superior of St. Mary’s, recommended me for the job. So, I took the bus over there from St. Mary’s one afternoon. It’s on Haddon Ave. in Oaklyn, NJ, not all that far from the school. St. Mary’s is on King’s Highway in Haddonfield, NJ. And about a half-hour bus ride from Maple Shade, where I live.

Dr. Wozniak’s wife, Connie Wozniak, interviewed me. I was so nervous I don’t really remember what I said. But she called Sister Eileen Marie back the next day and told her she wanted to hire me. I can’t imagine what I said to convince her. Anyway, I’m starting there next week and will work part-time at first and then eventually full-time.

I have only been to the dentist a couple of times myself when I have had toothaches and had to have my tooth pulled. So, my understanding of what I will be doing is very limited. I don’t suppose I’ll be pulling out people’s teeth.

Anyway, up until Sister Eileen Marie called me into the office to tell me about the job, I hadn’t really put any thought about what I would do after I graduated. I’m not kidding, I never thought about it at all. No one ever asked me what I wanted to do either. Not my parents, or my older sisters and brother, not my best friends. Nobody.

When I was a little kid, I thought I would like to be a veterinarian or an artist. I just love to draw and make things. And animals, well I prefer them over humans. But still, I had no clue how to go about doing either of those things, and no one ever talked about it with me. My mother always had the mindset that things would just work out somehow. And things did work out. At least I hope it will all work out. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Today I’ll be bringing my yearbook into school with me. So, my friends can sign it. And I can say good-bye to everyone. I guess this will be the last time I see them. Almost all of them are going off to college in September. I’ll be working at Dr. Wozniak’s.

It’s Saturday, June 7th, 1969. The day I graduate. I’m excited and terrified. Happy to be out of school, but terrified of being grown up. Because I don’t feel any differently than I did before graduation. 

I have been working at Dr. Wozniak’s dental office part-time for the past several weeks. And I think I’m going to like it. It turns out having a good memory is a good thing. And twelve years of memorizing prayers and commandments were all worthwhile.

I answer the phone and assist Dr. Wozniak at the dental chair. He also taught me how to develop x-rays. And I started learning how to send out bills. Apparently learning how to type was a good thing too. Also, I have to call all the patients the day before their appointments and confirm them.

I received my first paycheck and that was amazing even though it is not a lot of money. Apparently, the government gets a big chunk of each paycheck. I’m not entirely sure why. And no one has explained that one to me either. It’s my money, and I earned it. I’m going to start saving to buy a car.

Here I am sitting in the pew at Christ the King Church in Haddonfield. Everyone in the graduating class was given a dozen yellow roses. My favorite flower and m,y favorite color. So, I take that as a good sign. I’m waiting for my name to be called, holding my breath. And low and behold they, call my name. There are fifty-three students graduating, and I’m one of them.

So, I guess I’ve taken my first step into adulthood, out of school and getting paid for my first job. I have no clue what comes next. Do you?

 

Afterword: This year, my class of 1969 St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy marked 50 years since graduating. Can you believe it? Overall, it all worked out just as my mother promised..

Strawbridge Lake

Today is one of those muggy August mornings when your upper lip starts sweating the moment you step out the back door. You know what they say about NJ, it’s not the heat it’s the humidity. Well, let me tell you something, it’s the heat too. But that has never stopped me. I grab my bike that’s lying on the ground next to the back step. And hang my lunch off the handlebars.

I ride as fast as I can down to my best friend Joanie’s house. I jump off and hit the kickstand. It’s precisely eight AM sharp when I bang on the door. Mr. Gioiella doesn’t look like he’s happy to see me when he jerks his front door open. 

“What the hell are you knocking at the door for this early in the morning? Don’t you have a home of your own?”

“Hi, Mr. Gioiella, Joanie, and I are taking a bike ride down to Strawbridge Lake this morning. We’re going to bring our lunches and look at the sunfish and… Before I can finish my sentence, which I uttered in one long breath, Mr. Gioiella slams the door closed. I don’t let his gruff manner deter me. He’s kind of a grouch, but then so is my father, so I’m used to it.

I hear him yelling at the top of his voice, “Joanie get your butt down here. Susie is at the door waiting for you.” I had to wait for her for fifteen minutes. But I don’t let that bother me either. Joanie is kind of slow in the morning. She has trouble waking up. And she always takes a long time to get ready. Joanie finds me looking around her yard when she finally comes out.

“What are you doing?”

“Hi Joanie, I was looking at your mother’s flowers. I love the yellow and purple ones they look like butterflies. What kind of flowers are they?”

“I don’t know. They’re my mother’s flowers. I don’t pay any attention to them. You’re really weird sometimes Susie always looking at flowers and petting Mrs. Collin’s cats. “Come on. I put my lunch on the back porch and my bike is back there. Let’s go before my mother changes her mind.”

Joanie drags her bike out from under her porch. It’s covered in cobwebs. She starts screaming at the top of her lungs. She detests mosquitos. But she’s absolutely terrified of spiders. I start laughing and knock off all the spider webs. I love her screened-in back porch so much. We play out there a lot. Sometimes we write letters to the movie stars. Other times we play games like checkers, or dominoes or, Submarine.

My Mom knows if she can’t find me that I’m probably on Joanie’s back porch. She doesn’t come over to get me, she just yells at the top of her lungs. “Susie, time for dinner, time for dinner.” We only live two houses away so, she stands out in our back yard and yells until I come home.

I come home right away; otherwise, my father will come and get me and nobody wants to see that happen. Like I said, my father’s kind of a grouch. He works at night and doesn’t like being awakened during the day until it’s time for him to get up and go to work.

My father is the head dispatcher for the Philadelphia Transportation Company. It’s the bus company. Everybody he works with calls him Smiley. I know I told you he’s a grouch. They call him Smiley as a joke because he never smiles. His nickname in our family is “The Old Bear.”

Joanie grabs her lunch off the back step and shoves it in her basket. And then we’re off. We cross her front yard and cut across Mrs. McFarland’s yard and pass Dougherty’s house. We all but fly up to the corner across from Schuck’s. Schuck’s is my favorite place in the world. It’s a store that sells Penny candy and ice cream and hoagies. I live to eat candy. Oh, and drink root beer floats. And it has another room with a jukebox and booths. And teenagers dance in there.

As we speed by Shuck’s, I see Harry Fuelle. He owns the store next to Schuck’s. He lives in the rooms above his store with his wife and three children. It’s a food store. But mostly they sell lunchmeat. He’s walking slowly around his backyard in his pajamas. He is staring at his Dahlias. I think he loves them more than his own children.

We turn right on Main Street like we were told to. We keep on the right side of the street. The police came to our school and taught all the students bike safety. It’s about a twenty-five-minute ride to Moorestown. It is the town right next door to Maple Shade where we live. And get this, there’s a McDonald’s on the corner. It’s the first one in this part of New Jersey. I can’t tell you how much I love French Fries. I would kill for them, well almost.

Joanie and I turn right onto Lenola Road and ride about a mile or so and make a left. And there’s Strawbridge Lake. By the time we arrive at Strawbridge Lake we are so hot and sweaty, our clothes are sticking to us. I can taste the salty perspiration as it drips down my forehead and across my lips.

I yell over to Joanie, “Let’s leave our bikes here and walk down to the waterfall.”

When we arrive at the waterfall, Joan and I take off our sneaks and socks and wade into the deliciously ice-cold water. It’s so clear you can see the sunfish swimming over the waterfall.

“Come on, let’s try to catch one,” I scream, so I can be heard over the rushing water.

We look down at our bare feet and squish the mud up between our toes. Joan lets out a squeal, and so do I. “I have an idea. Let’s try and walk across the waterfall past all the fishermen to the other side.”

“Oh, I don’t know.’ Joanie says.

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a chicken, Joanie.”

Joanie isn’t really a chicken. She just needs encouragement to do fun stuff. Once she starts walking across, she forgets how afraid she was and practically hops and skips across. We stop in the middle and stare down over the waterfall. It looks like a long way down. I have an urge to jump and lean forward a bit. But Joanie grabs my arm. “What are you doing? You don’t even know how to swim?”

I smile at her and shrug my shoulders. “Come on, let’s go back to the stream near the Honeysuckle Bush and try to catch some sunfish.”

As we get closer to the stream, I start running at my top speed, and Joanie chases me. By the time we get there, we are both out of breath and soaked to the skin from sweating. We take a good look at one another and start laughing our heads off. You know the laugh that ends up snorting and hiccuping. Which makes us laugh that much more.

We step down into the stream and watch the golden fish swim across our feet. It tickles, and that makes us start laughing again and the fish disappear. As I stand in the ice-cold stream, I see young couples walking hand in hand. And mothers with their young children sitting on blankets.

Suddenly, I hear honking and, a huge goose comes rushing at us. Joanie and I are momentarily frozen. Then we realize that there are little goslings swimming right next to us. “Hey Joanie, we better get out of here. Remember the last time that goose bit you right on the butt.”

Joanie’s eyes get as big as saucers.  I grab her arm and pull her out of the stream. And we run until we are out of breath. Joan’s face is red as a beet. She looks at me and says,” your face is red as a beet.”

” My face, you should see your face.” This brings on the laughing again. We fall to the ground. We are laughing so hard. People are staring at us, but we don’t care. We can still hear the goose honking.

After I catch my breath, I say,” Hey, let’s go get our lunches, I’m starved.”

“Yeah, me too.” Joanie gasp.

We take our time getting back to our bikes. “Jeez, I think it is even hotter out. Is that even possible? I’m dying of thirst.”

“Me, too. But guess what my mom put a thermos in my lunch.” Joanie smiles.

I shrug my shoulders. I detest guessing games with Joanie. They can go on forever.

“Oh, you’re no fun, it’s cherry Kool-aide.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

“You’re kidding, that’s my favorite.”

“I know Susie, that’s why I brought it.” We ran the last few feet to our bikes laughing, all the way. And then we flop on the ground. Joanie pulls out her lunch. “What do you have?”

“Peanut butter and jelly.”

I open mine. “Me too. It’s my favorite. Well, that and Lebanon Bologna.”

“Mine too.” She says as she shoves the last morsel in her mouth.

I hand her the lid of the thermos with ice-cold Kool-Aide in it. “Oh, wow, this taste so good.”

I smile and think this is going to be the best summer of my life.