Will wonders ever cease?

Daddy makes some changes…

In sixth grade, daddy left borough council. He never explained why; I know he wasn’t paid much. However, he was thrown a bone: one year on the county-wide committee to bring sewers to more rural areas. I’m betting other council members grew increasingly uneasy with his bigotry and racism. Those guys were rich and ‘refined’–you don’t talk about race using vile terms except when doors are closed (and I don’t think two of them were racist at all). Classic sixties attitude of ‘good breeding doesn’t talk that way, even if you feel that way.’

The borough was soon to grow exponentially: the county’s first shopping mall would break ground soon, and mid-size houses sprouted like weeds. He didn’t have the brain power to deal with those kinds of changes (even though black families did not move in; his prayers were answered).

He also flipped careers after 20 years–he now worked for a local mutual fund that was founded by 4 men, two of whom lived up on our hill. One was the guy I mentioned many posts ago who had the only heated sidewalks in the borough. He was an odd duck, known for getting his morning paper in his underwear. Hell, I gotta admit walking out a cold morning barefoot on heated concrete might make me feel a little wacky.

The other local guy lived four doors down from Mr. Wacky; he was born into money, marrying a woman also born in MONEY. He was a cigarette machine, just like my godfather (light next one from the one you’re smoking)–also very prone to deep opinions on everything which he kindly shared with the world (who waited, no doubt, panting to hear his pronouncements). His wife was a doll–soft-spoken, polite, gentle. Unlike her husband, she never cursed. We became friends with them; they had a house in Stone Harbor and we went deep sea fishing a few times. They had 4 kids–two older, two younger than I. My mom taught the two younger ones and they really blossomed with her, earning mom a life-long fan in the boys’ mother. And I do mean lifetime–she was still visiting my mom when both were in their 90’s.

What the new job meant for daddy was new hours and no overtime. He bought a few new suits. Now he worked at a desk all day and the company was in the heart of the city–literally, the key intersection, on the first floor.

This meant that the morning schedule changed, and became locked into a pattern that I remember to this day. (Necessitated by the fact we had one shithouse).

Discover more from Surviving The Sixties Strange Tales From Suburbia

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading