The night was sultry. ("Throw Momma From The Train")
I didn't think my mother had a job until after her divorce. I'm talking about leaving the house, making money job. The first thing I remember her doing was book keeping in a downtown department store. Eventually she went to work for a distant relative as a "check checker." She had a full time job making sure the waitress added the checks correctly. (this was in the 50's and 60's so I'm using waitress') She knew all the menu items and prices. If she found a shortage the waitress would make it up. If she found an overage the restaurant would keep it, typical.
I was a teenager before I was aware of her working prior to the marriage. She worked for Rodgers Coal Company. In the "old days" homes were heated using coal. I remember the place from the mid fifties. Great big dump trucks and huge mounds of coal. I also remember these adding machines with like a hundred buttons. I got to play there on many Saturday mornings and loved the place. A couple of hours and my imagination was all I needed. The trucks and coal, things on a distant planet. The adding machines, rocket dashboards.
"Uncle" Phil owned the coal company. As a young adult I was told Phil and my mother were "in love." He was married but could not get a divorce. I have no idea why, something about a disability, or maybe money? I don't think Dorothy had an arranged marriage to Irving but there was something "odd" about it. I've heard she was unhappy but her father "forced" her into it.
My mother and Phil, what ever their relationship, it lasted a lifetime.
Just after mothers funeral service I rounded up her sisters. I told them I thought now, since everyone involved was gone, they could let me in on the secret. I said, "I've always thought that maybe Phil was my real father." They both looked at me, didn't miss a beat and said, "Oh, we've known that for years." If we were in a play the exchange would have been rehearsed, the timing, perfect. But, we were in my cousins backyard, not on a stage. Now I had to decide if they were telling the truth or making me crazy. Neither one of them would say another word about it.
There is the ten year gap between me and Alley Boy. Both my brothers, like Irving, were hair challenged at an early age. Both of the brothers have brown eyes and dark features. I am smaller, have most of my blond hair as well as blue eyes. In other words, I'm nothing like those two. I suppose it's possible they got all the males genes and I got the female genes. It's possible, it is.
Every couple of months Phil would pick us up early Saturday morning. We would stop for breakfast, always at the same place that had the best toast in the world. I was easily impressed in those days, toast? Then we would go to the coal office and stay for a couple of hours. When the delivery trucks were on the road we would leave for Aunt Lee and Uncle Gil's. I remember the details of going but can't remember anything about the return. I remember spending the week end but can't remember if mother was there too?
There were also some summers when we all drove from Detroit to Cincinnati. Phil and mom would stay a couple of days, I would stay much longer. There were other things in my life Phil was involved in over the years. I'll never know the real story and it's OK. Besides, what difference would it make? It's not like coal is a thriving business, yet.
One of the situations with divorced kids is losing one side of their family. It was true with me and it's true with my daughter. Irving had a brother and two sisters. I had many cousins but don't know any of them. It's not that I was kept from them or didn't like them. Mother never said an unkind word about any of that family. It just happens. I did spend time with his sister Rose and family but they lived right around the block. Over the years I lost out, not knowing the Shulak side of the family.
My mother's younger brother was my Uncle Frank. He had three kids, a boy and two girls. I was the youngest of all but only by a couple of years. My cousin Mike (really, Charles Michael) was close enough in age to play with. Lillian was Franks first wife, I don't remember much about her. She is in many old pictures and was a beautiful lady. I do remember Jane, his second wife.
Jane had two boys, both around my age, Chris and Mark. The attic in the house was converted (like their mother) to a large bedroom, they slept up there. The boys went to Catholic school while my cousin was going to Hebrew school. The Holidays were all celebrated which was great but a little confusing.The light of the Hanukkah candles would reflect off the Christmas ornaments making a very festive living room.
The first night on the first cruise Wanda and I took to Alaska we shared a dinner table with three couples. When the lady next to us was served on what looked like a TV dinner tray. I asked her what it was, or, why it was served like that. She told me it was a Kosher meal. The well informed Jew that I am said, "Seems like the least they could do is put it on a plate." In case you don't know, dairy and meat are never served on the same dishes. A strict Kosher home I am told has two sets of everything.
Frank and Jane needed lots of dishes but they no longer needed Viola. I was lucky, she came to work for us.
Viola worked for Uncle Frank for several years. She was a terrific cook, a decent house keeper, and a wonderful teacher. She had no formal eduction. Viola had street smarts and gave me some very valuable lessons. Things like, never start a fight, avoid them if you possibly can. If you can't, hit them with something hard. From eight to eighteen I spent more time with her than I did my mother. Viola was born and lived in Alabama, she had great tales to tell. The African American lady with as many bullet holes in her body as teeth in her mouth.I truly loved her. She'll always be in my memories, I'm glad I have this one picture to share with you.
1961
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