The following writing selections are from my book, Real, True Things: A Collection From A Writer’s Life. These selections include poetry, music memories, and wonderful recollections of family history – with a rather detailed and poignant early family history told in my mother’s own voice. I periodically update this section with material from the book, so visit and read often!
The Sax Player
The bar crowd stares vacantly at the musicians.
The night is young.
It is their first set.
No one is in the mood yet to dance.
But the music is good.
He stands in front playing his saxophone
Into the microphone.
Black leather barret
White tee shirt, jeans.
Good body – hot!
Especially the way he holds his sax.
More, in the way he looks at her.
Light dark skin. A mulatto, drop dead beautiful.
She moves like royalty.
Modestly dressed, but sexy.
And in a little while they are oozing it
At each other.
He never takes his eyes off her
He plays directly at her.
She dances the most incredible dance in her place.
Never standing up yet never still.
Dancing to him alone.
Eyes locked on eyes.
Rhythm and surging sounds.
Music and motion.
Music and reaching out for each other.
Like last night, like this morning, like forever – tonight.
Music Memories
. . . . Ivey dancing to native music outside Kabul, Afghanistan. We were traveling around the world, and we were staying at the only decent hotel in Kabul, the Intercontinental. There were many reasons why what we did and what we saw was limited. Some waiters there were kind to us, and they offered to take us around Kabul. We went outside to the little villages, and the men began to sing and dance. They wanted to have someone come, it seemed, so they could sing and dance. The music was good, and at one point, Ivey got up and danced. The other men couldn’t believe that he joined them! So this is a story of why and how I became part of small party of dancing men and boys just outside of Kabul.
. . . Early morning. Someone is working outside our room on the beach in Mexico. He begins to whistle. I said to myself, “Where have I heard that music? From an opera?” I remember thinking, “How did these workers, whom I viewed as uneducated peasants, where did they hear that music?” And that was wrong of me. And I remember the magic of music whistled by a Mexican peasant who should have had no knowledge of a masterpiece by Strauss.
. . . Ingrid playing her flute in the marble staircase at the Paley mansion.
. . . Millard and I love classical musical. And opera. One experience we had that was so wonderful, and one of the ways we met, were in the choir at Old Swedes Church. The choir master asked us if we would sing in the opera, to be the chorus? Of course we said yes! Not only did we go the operas because we were invited, but we were in this opera. It was amazing. The people who were principles in the opera were very good, and we were able to listen to them, close up. That was the first time since Tommy, singing in our living room, that I could be that close to someone in the opera.
. . . We met Jim Wales at Bacchanal, a bohemian bar on South Street. Bacchanal was actually two row houses joined to form a dance floor, a bar with tables and a tiny, tiny kitchen. It was a dark, dirty place. Its only decoration was life-sized papier mache nudes in various forms of communication hanging on the walls, inside and out front. The first time I went there it was for a poetry reading. Many nights there was live music, jazz, reggae, New Orleans rag time. Artists and musicians dropped in and performed then mingled with the crowd. I met James Baldwin there.
Bacchanal was owned by Joe Tiberino and Dimitri. My best memory of Dimitri, outside of the bar, was when he sang the part of the Father in the Old Swedes Lucia Fest one Christmas. A big man, he had the twinkle of a Santa Clause and the voice of a Pavarotti.
Joe Tiberino was married to Ellen Powel, a fine artist who was fighting cancer when I met her. She was lovely and her art was even more lovely. When she occasionally came to Bacchanal, dressed like a Paris diva, and she lit up the place. Ellen eventually lost the fight and Joe and Dimitri eventually closed the bar.
Jim Wiles was no James Baldwin, but he was unforgettable because he was a truly talented poet and guitar artist. He often performed at Bacchanal and he was really impressive. His attitude, though, was that he was worthless and his persona was that of someone who is just down and out. He lived in an apartment on the top floor one of the trashy houses near the bar. A street person was not far ahead of Jim in the social order of the day. The tragedy is that he was only 35 and he truly believed he was a very old man. He talked about it constantly. The idea consumed him.
When Bacchanal closed we lost touch with everyone who regularly went there. Jim Wiles probably did not survive.
FAMILY HISTORY: THE WRIGHTS
Harriett Kenworthy, my great grandmother on Dad’s side, must have been quite a pistol. She came from a wealthy family who lived on an estate somewhere in the Philadelphia area. She fell in love with the family gardener, Harry Rosenberger, married him, and they took off to Florida where they had a number of children. They eventually came back to Philadelphia and raised their family. No one knows what their relationship with the Kenworthy’s was after that, but I remember mention of a “distant relative” by the that name once or twice over the years.
Harriett lived to be 94. She died after a very short illness. Harry must have died some time before her because I cannot remember him at all. I knew Harriet as a very old, tall, thin, very active lady who lived with her daughter and my other grandmother Laura. Harriet called Laura “Loll”, and we called Harriet “MiMa.” She was tall and thin and curious, always sitting near the front window looking out at the goings on in the street. She went shopping alone into center city Philadelphia once every week until she was about 90.
Laura grew into a fashionable young lady who had an eye for a handsome working man by the name of John Wright. “Jack” lived nearby and drove a horse-drawn trolley. He was also a member of the local marching band, and it has been said that he could play every instrument in it.
Laura married him, and he eventually took a job as a lock tender in Manayunk at the canal. He was responsible for opening and closing the gates in the canal at the falls, then regulating the water as it filled then fell in the locks. Since he had a lot of free time, he kept a garden near the locks and had quite a green thumb. He was a naturalist, and he would plant by the phases of the moon.
My grandfather Jack was the lock tender when I was born. He called me “Annie Jo.” He had a good sense of humor and he was full of bravado, acting tough, like he wouldn’t take anything from anybody. He had great taste, though, and I suspect he had some culture. He always gave me good jewelry for special occasions, some of which I still have.
Laura and Jack had two sons. The first was named Walter (my dad). This is because Jack had had a brother, Walter, who had died falling out of a tree at a young age. Jack wanted to name his first born after him. Walter soon got a brother who was named John and came to be my Uncle Jack.
MEMORIES OF OUR FAMILY
By Catherine Wright, edited by Joanne Wright Iverson
February 10, 2006
My name is Catherine Mary Moore Wright. I lived on Freeland Avenue, in the Roxboro section of Philadelphia, back what we called “The Alley”. There were 2 houses there. The Bezolds lived in the other one. We had a big yard in which my mother, Frances Anna O’Leary Moore, better known as Frankie, had a lot of flowers. She really had a green thumb. Two bedrooms, one for my brothers Gerard and Billy and the other for mom and me, kitchen, dining room and parlor. The parlor was always closed off unless we had company. Money was scarce as were jobs, so we didn’t heat the upstairs or parlor. We had a small gas heater which we used if company was coming. The kitchen and dining room was heated with a coal stove. The bathroom was off the kitchen but it was just a toilet and wash sink. Whenever anyone was getting a bath (no tub) we closed the kitchen door.
Girard and Billy were both married while we lived there. We had to go to Summit Hill when Gerard married Barb. It was quite an adventure. A lot of our family lived near the coal mines.
A description of Catherine in her youth, “She was an Irish beauty, with long wavy auburn hair and green eyes.”
I met Walt (Walter Norman Wright) when I was 19 and he moved to the house right in front of ours on Freeland Avenue so I saw him a lot over the back fence. He got to know my brothers and he joined the rest of our friends from the street. The first time he asked me out was to see a movie at The Roxy Theater on Ridge Avenue. It was called “The Pursuit of Happiness.” Just by accident, Gerard happened to be there when we went in and sat with us (big brother looking out for little sister).
We used to walk a lot (his father had a car but he used it for work). Once in a while when something special came up like a party, Walt would borrow the car. But he had to take his father to work first (his father was the lock tender at Flat Rock dam and Manayunk dam) then get up real early to pick him up if he was on night work. Walt got a job at the Container Corporation paper mill in Manayunk, night work. I worked at Flinkman’s Drug Store in the kitchen. We served breakfast and lunch. Bert Brown was the waitress out in front. We became good friends.
Walt and I would pass each other in the morning just to say hello. He was coming home and I was just going in to work. We walked a lot back by the Wissahickon Creek in Fairmount Park. Everybody who lived in Roxborough always called it the creek. We went together for three years, and we got married at 22. Walt couldn’t give me an engagement ring at first, so when he asked me to marry him he gave me a ruby ring that he always wore. He got it from his aunt Mildred; she got it from a Spanish sailor who owed her back rent. Walt’s mother said she knew it was serious when she saw me wearing his ring. I wore it for about 2 years.
We saved some of our money every week to put down on furniture from Weis store in Roxborough (Ridge Ave.). By the time we were married we had paid for a bedroom set and living room set. My mother gave us a black and white kitchen set. We received a lot of presents to help out (no money then). My bride’s maid was Marie Harmer, a good friend of the family. Bill Lanagan was best man. In those days we couldn’t have Walt’s brother, Jack, for best man because he wasn’t Catholic. I couldn’t be married in church because Walt was not. So we were married in the rectory up from the church by Father Clinton. He was a real great guy. Walt had to take instructions from Father Clinton about the Catholic church before we were married. Everybody had to do the same thing then to learn what was expected of us both. He really like Father Clinton and enjoyed going (I didn’t go with him). Father said he thought he had a convert because Walt took more lessons than was necessary but Walt’s mother made him promise he would never turn Catholic while she was alive. I never asked him to turn anytime. He was a good husband and father. My mother liked him and said it was all right with her as long as he treated me good.
Mom told me a story that is funny after the fact. When mom and dad left their wedding reception one of her very innocent girlfriends followed them to their apartment and visited. She hung around and they didn’t know how to get her to leave – on their wedding day! She did not have a clue!
I got a job at Quaker Lace when I was 19. I would take the 6 trolley from Main street in Manayunk to Lehigh Avenue, then change to another trolley to 4th and Lehigh. I walked up and down Shurs Lane every day to get to work. Marie went with me and my mother to get my wedding dress at Lits department store in Philadelphia. My dress was very sheer white cotton with large, puffy sleeves, stand-up collar, big bow in the back, lace gloves (long) with no fringes, a spray of white flowers on a head band on top of a shoulder-length veil which was over my face until I was married. Then Walt put it back over my head when he kissed me. Marie’s gown was the same in a pretty blue, which went well with her coloring (black hair, blue eyes).
My flowers were white rose buds and baby’s breath. White carnations for the men. Pretty corsage for the mothers of different colors to go with their dresses. Walt looked real neat in black tails. It was the first and last time he ever wore formal dress. I’ll never forget the way he smiled coming down the Alley. I was standing upstairs looking out the little window at the top of the stairs. He had such a big grin. I just laughed. The day was beautiful, we were married at 3 PM.
Everybody came back to our house and we had a beer keg out in the yard. One of our neighbors was bartender. The rest of the food, all homemade except the wedding cake, was inside and it was buffet style. We had music from records but no place to dance, but we had a good time anyway.
My mother heard some of Walt’s friends planning to kidnap him and take him back by the creek and leave him there as a joke! She told us and we got out fast before they knew it and went to our apartment on Manayunk Avenue. We didn’t have a honeymoon (no money). We went to Marble Hall Swimming Pool on Sunday after mass. Walt had to go to work on Monday so he wouldn’t lose his job. I went back to work later on.
We didn’t live at the apartment long because the people upstairs had a little girl who used to roller skate all day in the house and Walt couldn’t get any sleep and I didn’t like the noise either. We rented a corner house on Terrace Street, which was much too big but it was quiet. We had a pet squirrel in a cage, but we would let him out when we were home. He was so tame. We found him back by the creek one Sunday. The mother was run over and died, so we brought him home to see if we could raise him. Walt made a box to keep him in for a while and I fed him milk from a dolls bottle. He grew big and healthy but would only let us touch him. Then we got a big cage for him and he loved it.
We lived there for a while and then we moved to 4128 Freeland Ave. in Roxboro across from Walt’s mom and dad. The Lanagans lived next door. The Nonemakers lived in back of us, so I felt more at home there. We saw a lot of our old gang there. I became pregnant with Joanne. I stopped working and when it was time for her to be born, (Sept. 23) Mrs. Lanagan helped me to get down to Barb and Gerard’s house. Walt’s mom had to wait for Walt to come home from work, he was on night shift. Joanne was born after 12 midnight on Sunday morning. Dolly and George stayed at Barb’s until she was born. Dr. Holowitz was the doctor and Walt’s aunt Clair was a nurse, so she helped us. The following Sunday Joanne was christened. (Note from Joanne: What mom did not write about was my difficult birth. I was a breech birth, coming out feet first which is very dangerous for the baby and the mother. Dr. Howitz had to be called and he somehow managed to turn me around then literally pull me out with forceps. Clair molded my elongated head all night and fortunately I and my mom were alright. I don’t think she had any problems with the birth of the boys. I still have dents in my scull from the forceps).
The reason my own mom (Frankie) wasn’t there was she died on July 3rd. She just knew the baby would be a girl. She loved the name Joanne. She died just three months before Joanne was born and throughout her youth, I talked about Frankie a lot, telling Joanne stories about how hard Frankie worked and her strength and importance in the family. “You eat those mashed potatoes or I’ll get your Aunt Frankie to put them down your pants!”
Frankie lived with Barb and Gerard after I got married. All our children were christened at St. John’s in Manayunk (except Joe, St. Matthew’s). So Joanne was christened and Marie Larkin and Bill Lanagan were her godparents.
Then the War broke out and our gang all volunteered. Walt’s brother, Jack, joined the Marines, the rest were in the Army. We stayed on Freeland Avenue. We were all doing what we could to help. Walt’s dad was a warden. We had black outs. Everyone had black curtains to put on our windows when we had an alert. Walt’s dad had to make sure everybody was off the street and no lights shined anywhere. If you didn’t go by the rules you were arrested and jailed. We never knew when we would have an alert, but we knew what to do and where to go if we were caught outside.
Walt didn’t have to go to war because he was needed to work the #7 machine at Hamilton Paper Mill in Miquon, Montgomery County, making special paper for the government and not everybody could do his work. Mr. Hansen, President of Hamilton Paper, had to go to bat for him until he was deferred. He had to carry cards around all the time to prove he was not drafted. In the whole mill, there were only seven machines, #7 being the largest. When I was old enough, mom would send me to the paper mill with a hot meal for my dad. I knew my way through the factory to the place where he worked. The paper machines were huge and all of the power it took to run them substantial and loud. Dad was an important part of the operation.
We didn’t know where Walt’s brother, Jack, was fighting. I became pregnant and when the baby was born at Barb and Gerard’s house, Walt’s mom was so worried since she had not received any word in so long she and dad asked us if we would name the baby after Jack, because we didn’t know where Jack was fighting or even if he was still alive. This was during the Second World War and Jack was in the First Marine Division. It was a very tense time for the family. I kept a scrap book of newspaper clippings as we tried to follow Jack’s movements. Mom eventually gave the scrapbook to Jack and Retie.
Jack was a handsome young Marine. He saw action on Guadalcanal and was eventually sent to Australia for R & R during the war and it was there that he met and married 16-year-old Edna Smith of Melbourne. After the war she came to the U.S. on a troop ship with a lot of other war brides. The family excitedly awaited her arrival – especially Jack. I remember when he brought her to meet us. I have a picture in my memory of them sitting together on the sofa holding hands and looking rather lost. I guess there was a lot of adjusting to be done on everyone’s part. We all liked her. She taught little Joanne to knit and to file her nails correctly.
Then I was pregnant with Walter Jr. and after he was born in Roxborough Memorial Hospital, we knew what his name would be. Walt had been named after a favorite brother of mom Wright’s. He was only 20 years old when he died. He went on a picnic with friends and he climbed a tree and a branch broke. When he fell, he broke his neck and died that night.
It was during my confinement with Walter in Memorial Hospital that Joanne had her First Communion. Since I could not be there, Barb took her. Afterwards, Barb brought Joanne to the hospital and they stood on the street outside my room so I could see Joanne in her white dress and veil.
Then we had a chance to get a place in Miquon so Walt could go to work whenever he was needed. It was a nice place in a big old mansion on River Road near the mill in Miquon. Miquon is located about 14 miles from the center of Philadelphia. It is still a lovely country setting, almost a forest with trees, a creek, hills and dales. River Road was called that because it ran right next to the Schuylkill River, and between the river and the road were railroad tracks.
We often heard freight trains coupling and uncoupling at night, and watched the steam engines as they passed by at other times. One spring day we were all outside and Walt and I each thought the other was watching baby Walter. He was about two years old and nowhere to be seen. We looked everywhere then looked in horror when we saw Walter walking on the train tracks AND A TRAIN WAS COMING!! We were too far away to reach him before the train did, and he was walking towards it pointing and laughing. I thought of the one thing that might save him – his appetite. I yelled “Look Walter. I have candy!” Little Walter’s appetite saved the day.
We shared the mansion with two other families: The Thomases and their son Richard, and Eddie and Daisy Burnheater and their son, Eddie Jr. The kids played with Richard Thomas and Eddie Burnheater and I never figured out if it was play or just mutual harassment. There was a big porch to get trapped under, huge boxwood bushes to get lost in, trees to be caught up in and animals to avoid. The kids seemed to be constantly in some scrape or other, especially with Richard Thomas.
We had a big garden behind the mansion with vegetables and I canned them all with help from the kids and Walt. The garden was about two hundred feet square. Walt dug it up himself and planted a variety of vegetables. It was wonderful to wander out into the garden, pull a big juicy tomato off the vine and eat it right there. We also had a big yard and Walt put up swings and he made lawn chairs to sit on. I was pregnant with Joe and he was born in Doctors Hospital in Philadelphia. So he really grew up in Miquon. It was a great place to raise kids. Walt made a big sand box for Joe. As I often told Joe: “You may think your name was just picked out of the blue, but that was not the case. You see, I had a brother named Joe. I didn’t know him since he died while an infant, but Frankie talked about him and since he was her first born I think she loved him the most. I don’t know what he died from, she never said. I always hoped I could name one of my babies Joe. When you took Francis Xavier for your confirmation name, I was really pleased. You see, you had a great uncle Charles FX O’Leary. He was my mother’s younger brother and very close to her. He was killed in the First World War. I always prayed to St. Francis and when you picked the name yourself, I was proud.”
We were getting a little crowded in our part of the mansion and eventually we got the chance to move to Manor Road, the best house on the row. It was a row of about twelve houses, all connected, near the mill. Ours was at the very end so we had a big yard off to the side. In the middle of the row, the Schools family had put in a swimming pool. The kids spent every day there, swimming with the other kids in the neighborhood. They had many wonderful summers there.
It was great, we had plenty of room now and a creek in back of the house. Walt put a bathroom on the second floor. We had our bedroom right beside the bathroom. Joanne had the front room, Joe, Jack and Walt had the 3rd floor rooms. The kids had a great time playing in the woods, fishing up at the pond, a small man-made lake used by the mill and down on the river. We put a swing up on one of the trees over the creek for them to play on (they always fell in and got wet). We raised a lot of ducks and they stayed in our yard at night. We fed them and they stayed around. We never ate them and every spring they brought their babies into the yard.
The kids built tree houses, dug holes to put barrels in; they could climb in one and pull the top down so you couldn’t see them (or somebody to hide from). Walt built boats in a big building up at old Joe’s place and sold them, and our kids were the only ones who had their own boat. Joanne could row across the river to the other side to play with some girls. (The start of her rowing career. She was about ten years old). The boys camped on the island, but we always checked to make sure they were okay. The men in the mill which was located right next to the river all liked the kids and kept an eye out for them, too. Walter caught some big carp in the river and gave some of them to the men at the mill.
Jim, the station master, liked kids, too. We had a lot of friends there. They went to St. Matthew’s school in Conshohocken by train until I learned to drive. They took the Reading line train to school every day and to church in Manayunk on Sundays. Since Joanne was the oldest, she was supposed to watch over them. I learned years later that in reality, she tried to ride herd on them, but it was impossible. Waiting for the train they were all over the station – disappearing and just out of control. One day on the train, they went into the restroom and stayed there. When Joanne went to get them, they were gone! They had jumped out of the window at the last stop! Another day, she couldn’t find them after school. She came home in tears saying they had disappeared so the two of us went back to Conshohocken and looked everywhere. When we finally decided to go back home they were there! They had decided to walk home, following the train tracks.
Joe was little then, so I used to take him with me to volunteer at the school lunchroom. Everybody made a fuss over him, so he didn’t mind bringing toys or crayons since he had the run of the kitchen. About that time, Joe developed what we all thought was his Adam’s apple. We got a big surprise when we found out that it was a growth of some kind and he had to have it removed. He was a real trooper and it all came out OK. (Note from Joanne:
Joe was born when we were living in Miquon at the old mansion. We were all old enough to appreciate having a baby join the family, but I think Joe had to pretty much grow up on his own. Jack and Walt were so close in age, they did everything together. As he grew up, we found that Joe and I had a lot in common even though there was about twelve years between us. We both like to travel, like music, and we both turned into hippies in the 60s – he was better at it than me).
We had doggie roasts up the pond while ice skating. Every day after school in winter the kids changed their school clothes and went to skate until suppertime. They could also sled down the various hills in winter and swim, fish, play ball on the field across from our house in the summer.
Harry Ottinger had a farm up from the dam. The kids spent a lot of time up there. Sometime the cows and even peacocks and big turkeys would get down on Manor Road. Jack, Walt and Joe went to chase them back up. Harry was a very well-educated man. His hobby was raising Black orchids. He was quite a character. He used to drive a turquoise Thunderbird that was also home to some of his chickens. One time, he stopped to say hello to me on his way to the post office and right there on the seat beside him was a live chicken! If Harry were alive today he would have some stories to tell about the kids, like shooting at them with a shotgun when they were in his watermelon patch, or like his suspicions that the kids were occasionally eating one of his turkeys!
When Joe was little he fell into the water from the banks of the river. I went in right after him. Thank God he was just upset, so we made sure he learned to swim after that. We used to take the kids up to Pott’s quarry in Conshohocken and swim and picnic there. All of the kids learned to swim there. It was great to see Walt start from the top of the hill and run and dive into the quarry with all the kids following him. I was chicken, I didn’t join in. It was spring water (cold) so I just swam around.
The kids were always into something or other. In the winter, the kids on the row all went sledding down the hills from the farms. One time, Walter Gaul pushed his sled in front of Joanne and she tried to miss hitting him and hit rocks instead. She got a very bad cut on her forehead! We took her to the hospital to get stitched up. She also had black eyes and a swollen nose.
Walter was fishing up the dam one day and I saw him trying to shake something off his hand. It was a snake that bit him so, as usual, we took him down to Marge (the nurse at the mill who took care of all the cuts and bruises of the kids that lived in the row). One day the kids were flying kites up the hill by the mill. Jack’s kite struck a high-tension wire and blew out all the fuses that run the mill, plus the electric to the houses. He was lucky he wasn’t killed but his dad had made a wooden handle for him to hold the kite wire. The F.B.I. came to our house to question our kids. But they knew it was an accident and told them how lucky he was that his dad made a wooden handle for him. They made the kids promise not to play up there anymore.
We had a lot of ducks and stray animals that made their way to our house. Sometimes we had to take them out to the SPCA. One winter when Joe was little he went ice skating up the pond with the kids and fell in where the ice wasn’t thick enough. Jack and Walt pulled him out and rushed him down the road to our house where I had to thaw him out. Walt (dad) taught all the kids how to ice skate. He was a good skater. When he was in high school, he and George Whittaker belonged to a Roxborough club and used to play hockey against the Germantown Boys and almost always won.
One day when the kids were in school, some other kids were having a fight with rocks. One boy threw a rock toward this big kid and he ducked, but Walter got the rock in the eye and almost lost his sight. The boy’s mother drove Walter home and I took him to Dr. Blair who was very good and he really saved his eye. Another time, Joe was playing baseball with the kids in the lot across from our place when he got hit in the mouth by the ball and broke his 2 front teeth. He came home holding the teeth in his hand. That began a long time of going to the dentist for Joe.
One Halloween the kids in the row all dressed up and decided to go up to see the Lockwood’s, an old couple who lived in a big house on top of a nearby hill. There are no lights beyond our house, so it was very dark going through the woods. Bob Forette and his family lived a few doors down from us and he decided to play a trick on the kids when they started to come back from the Lockwood’s. He put a sheet on and hid in the weeds and jumped out to scare them. Well he was wrong. He didn’t only not scare them but one of the big kids yelled, “Get him!”. And they chased Bob over to the lot. He lost his shoe trying to get away from them. He told my Walt that he thought the kids would half kill him if they caught him and he never ran as fast in his life. Everybody in the mill heard about it and really teased Bob for a long time.
One time the circus came to Spring Mill and they had animals and snakes. One huge snake died so they just threw it into the river. The kids were camping on the island at the time with a kid called Albert from Shawmont. By that time the snake had washed up on to the island. Jack and Walt found it and decided to play a trick on Albert, who was afraid of everything. They went back and told Albert to go hunt for wood or something but they did not tell him about the snake. When Albert stumbled over it he almost had a heart attack. He went crashing through the weeds back to Jack, and Walt who were in paroxysms of laughter. When they were sure it was dead, they tied a rope on it and brought it to shore by the station tied to the back of the boat. When the kids came up to get me I didn’t believe them but when I saw it I couldn’t believe a snake ever got that big. And I had them get some men and their dad from the mill to come out to see it. They called the police because nobody knew what to do with it. The circus was fined and the SPCA got rid of it. I learned the real story later.
Jack started dating Marguerite when they were in their teens. I remember Jack walking from Miquon to Spring Mill up over the hill to see Retie. They got married when they were just 19 and Michael, John then Eric came along shortly thereafter. I spent a lot of time with those kids. One of our favorite things was to look for garnets on the hill in Miquon. Carrie was born in 1968 while Joanne was at the Olympics in Mexico City. She called home every day to see if Retie had had the baby yet. When she did and we all heard it was a girl (finally) there was a lot of rejoicing. A little later, Amy appeared. A welcome second girl!
When Walt Junior grew up, he married Eileen Zindel, a girl the kids grew up with. We remember her mostly from Marble Hall pool. We all had summer memberships and Eileen’s mother took her and her brother, Bill, to the pool every day. The kids had a great time there. Walt had a crush on Eileen from the start. Walt went into the Navy and spent his whole time at Willow Grove Naval Air Station. It was while he was there that he decided to start his own auto body business. He and Eileen became engaged shortly after he got out of the Navy. When Walt and Eileen started their family, Stephanie came first. Walt always liked the name Stephanie, so he named their firstborn. Soon after, came Heather, then Jennifer. Then, after about twelve years, Eileen found herself pregnant again. Everyone in the family knew it was a boy but Walt. The girls delighted in naming him: Skip, Drew, Tyler, etc, When the day of his birth finally arrived, a delighted Walt found out he had a son. There was no doubt that he would be Walter the Third.
Joe eventually married his soul mate, Leslie Leaming, and their first son Ian came along. Les got pregnant again and we were so happy for her and Joe – but – sadly baby Lisa died before she could be born. After a few years, Joe and Les adopted Darren. The first time I saw him was at Walt and Eileen’s. He was a one-year old dynamo. He fit right into the family!
Every August there is a family reunion of my dad’s great grandmother and
great grandfather’s decedents. The Rosenbergers were the parents of Harry Rosenberger who married Harriet Kenworthy. Their children included Laura Rosenberger who married John Wright. Laura and John’s children were John Wright who married Edna Smith from Australia and Walter Wright who married Catherine Moore.
Years after helping her mother write her own version of the family’s history in 2006, Joanne found a letter dated from 1977 that her mother Catherine had written to her younger sister, Helen, the sister who was adopted by an aunt. The contents of this letter were a complete surprise to everyone!
“To My Sister, Helen
January 31, 1977
“I know you think you were given away by our mother when you were a baby because she didn’t want you. Well, you are so wrong. Mom did not give you away to Aunt Susie and Uncle Joe. Did you know you were second choice? I was the first choice? When our father died during the flu epidemic, he and mom were only 33 years old. She had 4 kids to take care of. We all had the flu and when dad died, she didn’t even see him buried because we were all sick in bed with the flu. Aunt Susie and Uncle Joe had no children of their own so they offered to take one of us to raise. Helen, can you imagine what it must have been like to mom, a choice like that? For mom? She loved us all so much it was a hard decision to make. You were the baby and the last she would ever have because she loved our father so much she would never marry again. I was told she was a real beauty and could have married a rich man, but he did not want us. He said to put you and me up for adoption and put Gerard and Bill in Girard College, and she said “NO”. When she said Aunt Susie and Uncle Joe could take me, I was 2 or 3 years old. So I knew my parents and I must have given them an awful hard time by crying day and night. You know they were both wonderful people and they gave me back and asked for you.
Mom’s heart was broken, but she said okay. But she would take you back when things were better. Aunt Susie and Uncle Joe said, no. If they took you she would have to sign papers to give them the right to keep you. You see, Helen, they fell in love with you and couldn’t bear the thought of giving you back. Mom realized they could give you everything she couldn’t. In giving the love you needed and which by working to keep us all alive, she would not have the time to take care of you the way she wanted. So she said, yes. When she came home after leaving you with them she cried all the way home. She never really got over it, Helen. Lots of times when she was sad, she would say, “If only we could all be together,” she would be happy. When we would go to see you when you were in South Philadelphia, she used to say, “On Sunday after mass we are going to see your little sister.” And on the way home she always cried and I could not understand why you were in another house when you were our sister. We would ask questions and that is when she cried. We used to envy you when we went to see you. You lived in a big house with your own bedroom and a piano. We had a little house with not enough room. Hand-me-down clothes, picking coal every day after school for the stove for the night. I couldn’t go out to play with the kids after school because I had to clean the house, make the beds, start the supper and then go down to Manayunk (Flinkmans Mill) to meet mom and walk home with her. We didn’t have much time for fun. When you got married, mom was happy for you and when you brought Arleen over to see her when she was sick, she was so proud. You see, Helen, you were very much loved and I’m sure since you had kids of your own, you understand mom now. And how much we all loved you. You are still a Moore and O’Leary.”
TO GO, TO SLIP THE BONDS OF EARTH
This year so fraught with nothingness
The race not won, decisions weigh
So heavy yet are meaningless
Without your heart to save the day.
And then, en fin, you get the sign
They’ve found the problem and the birth
Of ways to fix it, make it fine
And so, to slip the bonds of earth.
And now your birthday looms at last.
A better day you hope to see
Than all the others in your past
The better man you hope to be.
So see yourself and do believe
The gods have recognized your worth
And sent the means for you to leave
And, oh, to slip the bonds of earth.
The grace of friendship, mind and heart
Linked with your fellow heart and mind
The gains of science, gifts of art
The sense of oneness with your kind.
The zoo balloon is waiting there
All ready to ascend with mirth
A celebration that we dare
To go, to slip the bonds of earth.
REMEMBER
There is still Hemingway
And the life style he espoused.
Ayn Rand people are not real
But we hope we are them.
Ismir harbor lights still twinkle at night
And the excrement still empties
Into it by day.
Shepherds bring their karakul herds
Through Kabul in spring
As caravans are passing through
North to the Oxus.
In remote villages of Iran
Women are tying tiny knots
Into fabulous rugs for us to buy.
Bricks bake in burning buildings in India
And the goat milk still must be strained
Here at Hampton road.
Jets leave every day
And passports are easier to get
Than someone to milk our goat.
London waits for people like us.
Victoria Station! The Bospherous!
The everlasting gateway to the world.