“Jelly” is an occasional topic of conversation in our household. It seems Gary was traumatized as a child by all the plum jelly he was forced to consume. Growing up on a farm, with parents who remembered The Great Depression like it was yesterday, Gary knew better than to complain. So he dutifully ate plum jelly on a slice of bread (he calls it “jelly bread,” which I’ve always found confusing) when it was served to him as a kid….
Digging through family photos is never dull. … especially when you uncover a photo like this: Dad! You look like a mobster! Dad was 12 or 13 years old in this photo. His family still lived in Lowell, Massachusetts, but would soon relocate to New Haven, Connecticut. Alas, Dad doesn’t have a story to go along with this photo. But while digging around in Fold3.com (the military arm of Ancestry.com), an FBI Report caught my attention … FBI Report? Before…
When you’re a child of the Depression, you have a different outlook on personal finance. Mom used to tell the story of Dad, as a young child, going door to door trying to sell his toys. He wanted to help feed his family. When I asked him about it recently, Dad recalled that he sold his alphabet blocks for five cents a piece. He raised about 25 cents, and presented the pennies and nickels to his parents. As he hit…
To mask, or not to mask … Why is that even a question? I’m old enough to remember the national flap when seat belts were made mandatory. Even as a kid, I thought it was ridiculous to see adults rail about having a “constitutional right” to carry their baby on their lap while in a car. Or – gasp – not wear a seat belt so as not to wrinkle their clothes. The politicization of masks is a national disgrace….
While researching my ancestors, I came across an obituary that included this line: He was a survivor of the 1944 Hartford Circus Fire. I’d never heard of this tragedy before. It’s a horrific yet fascinating tale. On July 6, 1944, during a matinee performance of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus in Hartford, Connecticut, a carelessly tossed cigarette ignited one of the nation’s worst fires. Of the approximately 7,000 fans who crowded into the huge big top on…
Farmer Gary doesn’t like snakes. Not one bit. Living on a farm, though, there are plenty of opportunities for reptilian encounters. Here are just a few: Pssst! Up here! The other morning, Gary headed out to our garage to hop on his John Deere lawnmower, as the grass in our yard is in rapid-growth mode. First, he backed my vehicle out of the way. Walking back in to get the mower, a scruffy old bird’s nest on the ground right…
This story isn’t about my brother Billy, but the gentleman he was named after, our mom’s uncle Bill Regan. Since Mom’s passing last November, Bill Regan’s daughter Patty and I have been in touch via email, as we piece together stories about Grandma Cassidy‘s side of the family. Little Billy, the second youngest of Joe and Maggie Regan’s 11 children, was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1908. He lived to be 96 years old. Patty sent me the following…
Look! It’s a fingernail moon! Little Thomas was barely more than a toddler when he pointed to the night sky and proclaimed the waxing (or maybe it was waning) moon looked like a fingernail. We were driving at the time (pre-cell-phone days), and I couldn’t wait to get home to call Mom. Her first grandchild had a poet’s heart. Mom absolutely loved the moon. She was fascinated by the changing sizes, shapes, and colors of the moon. Harvest moon, crescent…
Today is the anniversary of V-E Day. That’s “Victory in Europe Day,” the day the Allies accepted Nazi Germany’s unconditional surrender in World War II. Gary’s Dad, Andrew, celebrated in Austria. A soldier there with the U.S. Army, he had to wait his turn to make it back home. There was a “point system” and as a single fellow he had fewer points than those returning to wives and children. Andrew was a long way from home, but he’d survived…
Mom wrote this poem, called simply Cherries, when her granddaughter Lucy was just a few months old. It may be that this cute little outfit inspired her. Cherries Lucy’s little yellow dress is cherried Take her to the hammock under cherry treesand in the early evening wrap herin the childhood cherry spreadremembering another eveningwhen we rode a ferris wheelafter a day of cherry picking Grandchildren and sister loved the cherriessent for summer birthdaysand from a country marketwe wooed each otherwith…