Cappy's Corner

MY STORY 50's to 60's

I constantly get asked to tell the story of my life, it seems to me that this would be the interesting way to do it. I can write a story at a time and perhaps it will end up with my entire life on paper.
Where do I start? I should probably start at the beginning and perhaps my sisters and brother will chime in too, trigger our memories!
This story starts in the 1950's, a fantastic time in history. The story begins in Boston, Massachusetts, where two young people met and fell in love. Those young people at the time had no idea what was in store. My father while dating another girl, fell head over heels in love with my soon to be mom. The story starts here. Sock hops, skating on lakes, young men with their pack of cigarettes rolled up in their t-shirt sleeve and DA haircuts. The young women with poodle skirts, just think about the movie "Grease", that's the time that I was born. My father and mother, wanted a different life and they picked up roots and headed to South Florida. A definite change of climates from the New England weather they both grew up in.
I think when I was born in Miami, there was only one hospital, the original Jackson Memorial Hospital, at the time of my birth we were living downtown.
I don't know what happened and perhaps Dad could fill in the blanks, but our new small family moved back to Massachusetts. In no time at all I had two sisters, in the meantime my father got a job working for Eastern Airlines, (remember them?) and transferred back to Miami. There, after a couple of moves we were in our very own home, which was purchased for $11,000. About the price of a really used car nowadays.
I don't remember very much of that time, but I do remember being very happy and loved.
Some of the special moments I remember is the things that Dad made for us and the simple things Mom would do. We loved our back-yard and spent all day there. I remember our yard before there was grass growing. Dad got us a swing-set, what group of little girls wouldn't love that. As the summer months grew warmer, we spent our time in the sprinkler and a big metal bucket, that, I think my mom used as her mop bucket. All I know is that I could fit in it perfectly for years, my sisters and I would take turns. We had such great tans, that sometimes we would have to sit at the back of the bus. It amazes me that, that kind of discrimination even existed in the 1950's. Anyway, Dad decided that we really couldn't learn to swim in the bucket, as much fun as it was, so he began building a swimming pool, it was made from a few levels of concrete blocks, sealed and painted this crazy lime green. We spent all day in the pool, where we learned to swim underwater and I think that is when I fell in love with water. The love of the water is still my strongest love.
My Dad brought home a roller coaster once, even though we only borrowed it for a short time, it was a very lasting memory, because it was so fun. There was no seat belts or safety rails. It was like a giant roller skate, that we would put at the top of a ladder, jump on and slide down the rails. The ride was only the size of a large slide, but it was so much fun.
Life was so simple then, all I had to do was have fun and be loved. I must admit that my childhood was very happy. As time past and we grew older, Dad was home less, because he had to work more, to give us the things every child would dream of. I don't really recall much about stuff, but I do remember driving down Tamiami Trail (8Th Street) for our day of fishing with Dad. We never knew what we were going to catch, from crawdads to turtles, it just didn't matter. All I can remember is my sisters laughing and my Dad standing over us with his arms crossed and his beautiful bright smile as we were casting our cane poles into the muddy swamp of the Everglades. When we were lucky enough to catch some fish I remember my mom's face when Dad pulled out his stringer of fish, a smile and maybe a sigh about who was going to clean those fish. Dad always did the fish cleaning. I remember always having some kind of boat parked on the side of the house, but our days of fishing passed.
As we got older it was time to begin school, I remember things that happened in school and probably never told anyone. My favorite time was "Show and Tell", I was the one kid who could make up some fascinating stories, about forts under my bed and drinking vinegar, I made up so much stuff, I can't even remember where the story began, I just kept talking because I couldn't move away from all the attention. I remember once talking so long that I peed in front of the whole class. I think that was the begining of my story telling, while most of my stories are true, I make certain that they are somewhat interesting. I just loved to be the center of attention. I was always the class clown, I am certain that doesn't really come as a surprise to anyone, but to let you know I was born that way.
As I became more independant and now my sisters was going to school with me, it was our time to walk home by ourselves. Common place in most families, when it was my kids turn to do the same I remember what my mom did with us. Mom started walking us to school, so that we would learn the way and then meeting us after school to do more practice. She made a point that we were to stay on this path, because she had eyes everywhere. As we knew from experience, this statement was very accurate. There was once or twice that we stopped and would jump in the canal for a swim, when we got home, the eyes knew what we had done, because Mom was following us just out of view. Many years later I found out that even though my mom trusted our judgement, she knew that we were still kids, and our urges to deviate were far too strong to resist. All this preparation was for a good reason, mom was pregnant and needed us to be less dependent on her.
We had a new addition to the house, kind of like a puppy, but worse behaved. We got a new brother, a special and unexpected surprise. He immediately became the king, I must admit we all worshiped him, I still do to this day. Even though I am 10 years older than my brother, he is my big brother at heart.
Upon the arrival of my brother, the household routine was transformed and rearranged, for this young man was a tornado. As a baby, Charles was full of smiles, he not only woke with them, but his smiles were contagious. It didn't matter what he did, good or bad, no one in the family could help laughing or smiling at his escapade's. Even when he painted the walls above his crib with his own poop. The family dynamic seemed complete, if it was even possible to be more happy, we were. Life passed and days went by turning into years. If I could choose when to go back in time, I would choose this part of my life, I felt safe and loved. I never had to make a decision, and I never made a mistake that took a toll on any ones life.

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