How do I start writing about my parents? Let me start with my father. I may have been afraid to tell him he was wrong when I was growing up but when I did he would always say, “Get the book.” The book was of course The World Book Encyclopedia. We had a new set that my dad bought for us and we used it a lot. Today with the internet the need for such books seems to be forgotten. With things changing ever so fast anything written down could be wrong in a few days. Getting the book didn’t always solve the problem but sometimes brought up new ones. My dad and mom both smoked and that bothered me. I never complained to them and I was glad when they stopped. When my father bought his first car back in the fifties it was an older De Soto, gray, and big inside. He was very happy with it I think. He was even happier when he purchased his first new car. He bought a Chevy Caprice. I came home one morning, (working at the airport on midnights I think) and the car which was usually parked in front of the house on Devon Ave. was no where to be seen. I thought that maybe my father went somewhere but could not think why. It was very early and I think a Saturday because he was home so I knocked on the bedroom door and he was still in bed. I asked him where his car was and he of course said out front. It was gone. Someone had stolen it. All hell broke loose and the police came and dad reported the theft. Dad got some money from the insurance company and went out and bought another Caprice very similar to the stolen one.
We never heard from the police if they ever found the car so I think it was taken to one of those chop shops and dismantled. I felt bad for my dad but was not prepared for what happened just a year later. His new Caprice was parked in the same place as the old one and got stolen too. Now after the second one was taken he decided to build a garage in the back yard. I think about that saying about closing the barn door after the horses get out and can’t help thinking that my poor dad had to settle for an Impala for his third new car instead of another Caprice. My dad may have had his faults but I never seemed to notice them. There are many other things about my father I can tell you about but let me say something about my mom. Mom, where do I start? My mother was very out spoken and said things she sometimes later regretted. She told it like it is as the saying goes. My father told me that as a young girl she was kind of shy and kept to herself. I of course never saw that in mom. No mater where I was playing outside I could always hear my mom calling me. “ANTINNYYYY COME HOME” I remember most of all those Sundays when we would have macaroni at one o’clock. Before dinner mom would make meat balls in the frying pan and put some in a dish next to the stove where as we walked by we could take one or two like an appetizer. After we ate the Sunday programs would come on like The Cisco Kid and The Lone Ranger. Mom had her radio programs of course during the week like The Guiding Light and As the World Turns. I remember seeing her listening to them while doing housework. As with dad there are other things I remember but that is for another story.
