Some NOT very pleasant memories .....................

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Mansons2005
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Posts: 213

Some NOT very pleasant memories ..................... Jun 20, 2013 2:08:09 GMT

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Post by Mansons2005 on Jun 20, 2013 2:08:09 GMT

The summer I was 15 was GOING TO BE THE BEST SUMMER EVER!!!!!!
Papa and his partner were off to Europe for 3 months. No interference from that quarter.
Ma had just bought a new winter house in Florida and contrary to custom we were all spending the summer there so she could have it renovated. She was also expecting her last child, my half brother. And she was breaking in a new housekeeper, a Russian widow of German descent (very distant relative) who did not speak English. All 5 of my brothers would be there as well. I figured what with building contractors, kids, a baby, her husband and training a new staff she’d be way too busy to interfere in my plans. Even though my Grandparents were in town, it was to arrange for the sale of their hotel, so very slight chance of interference there!

So – some local boys and I had made plans to camp out on Vanderbilt Beach for the entire summer – you know, enjoy the wholesome life, out in the fresh air, living rough, building character and our bodies – oh, and yeah, enjoying some illicit moonshine, beer, Camel smokes and a few of the local ladies.

The week before I was to arrive in Fla I got a telegram (yep, a telegram) at school telling me to get my fanny down there pronto. My Grandfather was having emergency surgery to amputate his leg. I arrive and the whole family is there. Gramp’s surgery goes “OK” but he will be in hospital for a few weeks. No sweat – I’m ready for the beach. The night after my arrival my Step-father has massive abdominal pains – he goes into hospital for emergency surgery. Meantime, the contractors are tearing the house apart, Mrs. Mitz is trying to order groceries in German (in a town of 1,000, most of who are native Crackers or New England transplants), my brothers are running wild and Ma is a few days past her due date. No problem – I’m going to the beach!

Two days later, while I am at the beach the county sheriff shows up – to take me home. Ma’s in labor, Step-dad is not doing well, my Grandmother is falling apart over my Grandfather’s amputation, and Mrs. Mitz keeps locking the contractors out of the house.

I go home – Ma has the baby, and like a good Hausfrau, she’s up and home in 2 days. Other family still in hospital, but hey – I’m going back to the beach! For only one day as it turns out…………..Ma developed some sort of (ear??) infection that kept her abed and delirious most of the time. So here I am – 15 and ready to howl through the summer and how do I wind up? Trying to run a house that is missing walls and areas of roof with scads of non-English speaking workman swarming all over, supervising 5 (bratty) boys under the age of 12, caring for a week old new-born (crimini, they are icky at that age), trying to translate/understand Mrs. Mitz’s weird Russian/German patois so I can get the boys feed and clean (and allow the workmen in the house), spoon feeding Ma and putting ice packs on her chest (she couldn’t nurse), comforting my Grandmother (who was totally useless – she kept promising to hire a baby nurse, but that nurse never materialized ), running down to the hospital to visit with and get reports on my Step-dad and Grandfather, and trying to find the brandy decanter, which was pretty useless because the entire contents of the dining room were covered with a tarp in the bottom of the drained swimming pool. On the up side, I could sneak a smoke almost anywhere, because any room that had a roof didn’t have walls and the rooms with walls didn’t have any window glass. The smoke just sort of drifted away with the building dust and the (so damned!) hot, humid breeze off the Gulf.

I spent two weeks as the “adult” in charge (terrified that EVERYONE was going to die!). I hated it. I ranted, I raved, I detested my brothers, I resented the “sick and the old” and I developed a distinct dislike for little babies who cry ALL the time and have ugly scabby things on their navels (and remember - Pampers were still a distant dream). When Ma was well enough to take over, she thanked me and when I carried on over how “THEY” had all ruined my summer, Ma said “Think of the essay you can write – What I Did On My Summer Vacation”. And then she GIGGLED! Oh, how I “hated” her and all of the rest of them! I (eventually) got over myself and ended the pity party and in time developed some sort of pride in the fact I had carried it off at all (only one casualty – brother Gary developed poison ivy when landscapers pulled out the back garden, we don’t count Kevin the Younger’s attempt to give himself a crewcut).

But, no, even in retrospect, it is NOT one of my fondest memories.

Mansons2005
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Posts: 213

Some NOT very pleasant memories ..................... Jun 29, 2013 14:27:57 GMT

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Post by Mansons2005 on Jun 29, 2013 14:27:57 GMT

When I was a "young adult" there was a series of events (better not explained HERE!) that lead to my maternal Grandfather's having to pay the US government some massive fines. Due to co-ownership of actual real estate and the chaos of post-war Europe and missing relatives, etc., he was forced to liquidate "personal" property. As a result appraisers and auctioneers were called in to choose what items from the house (where is spent my childhood) would pay off the debt.

My Grandfather was indisposed (polite euphemism) so my mother had to handle it, and as the "heir apparent", I was called from school to be there. I have no idea what Mama was thinking, but she arranged for a full staff of house servants, had tea and other refreshments prepared and dressed to kill (the red Chanel suit I will ever remember).

Well, the people arrived en mass ............ and literally swarmed through the house. There were no introductions, no pretense of formality, just massive confusion. Cabinet and dresser drawers and doors opened and emptied helter skelter, cupboards ransacked, the tea pot was emptied as were the milk jug and sugar bowl so they could cart off the service, port dumped out of the decanters into a vase, glasses got broken, a sofa was pulled in front of the fireplace so some guy could provide me with the ONLY amusing moment - as he climbed up on the sofa he addressed Mama (in a Joisey accent) - "Hey lady, whose the broad in the Sar-Ghent (he meant Sargent) pitcher?"........I could HEAR my grandmother rolling over........

Mama and I stood there, the servants cursing and mumbling behind us, as these cretins carted off parts of my mother's, and therefore of my, childhood. I remember seeing the bed I slept in come down the stairs in parts and hearing the housekeeper say "Not the Jenny Lind, oh NOT the Jenny Lind" .......... I had no idea at the time what a "Jenny Lind" was, but I knew that Grandfather had slept in that bed before me........ Mama had to argue to keep her furs (they obviously did NOT belong to Grandfather)...........trying to take the legs off of the piano they knocked it on it's side and THEN decided that it was too damaged to realize a decent price.............some (not all) photographs taken out of siver-backed albums...............the pot cabinet in the kitchen was emptied onto the floor so they could use the drawers to cart off a dinner service wrapped in tea towels and napkins...........furniture shoved and piled so rugs could be rolled up.................and it went on......

What seemed at the time to last an eternity probably only lasted four or five hours, but it did eventually end. I remember that as the door finally closed the housekeeper approached Mama and started to speak........Ma had a gripe on my shoulder that tightened so strongly that it left bruises (Ma was always careful of my hemophilia, except THAT time). Mama said something to Mrs. Halt and left the room, her back straight as a ramrod and walking as stately as she always did - went upstairs. Mrs. Halt pushed me and said "Go after her!". I did but came back down stairs at a run - more terrified than I had been by the previous few hours...........my mother was CRYING! I heard her - Mama, whom I had never ever heard or seen cry, was sobbing. That, I think, was the harshest reality of the entire event .......... someone made MY MOTHER CRY!

Yeah, life went on - we cleaned up the house - no great loss - just stuff - nothing that can't be remedied (Mama went out the next morning and bought a service for 24 in Westmorland "Lady Hilton" sterling flatware so we had something to eat with! It was the only service she could find that had the requisite sizes of spoons.......tea, coffee, gumbo, consume, cream and oval soup spoons on such short notice. I still have half of that that service). Mama move an overlooked (dumbass dealers!) Winterhalter portrait of her grandmother into the drawing room. We never did replace that piano, Mama had it hauled away within days. Grandfather came home, so there must have been enough realized during the sales and auctions to satisfy the Government, but we never did get a formal accounting of all that was taken. More than half a century later I am still trying to account to relatives in England & Germany for certain pieces. We only spoke of that event in passing (mostly to laugh over the Westmorland silverware - we called it the "make do stuff") but we NEVER spoke of mother's sobbing........Mama didn't cry - she took care of those that did...............

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Some NOT very pleasant memories .....................

Post by Mansons2005 on Jun 20, 2013 2:08:09 GMT

Post by Mansons2005 on Jun 29, 2013 14:27:57 GMT

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