Carolyn's Cast of Characters

Some of you have had fun perusing my mother's 1962 diary. It has been interesting for me to peer into a daily life I have few memories of (I was only two & a half). Reading through her diary has made me realize that some of my "memories" are faulty, and are the result of stories told and retold with subtle changes until they imprinted themselves as actual remembrances. In some ways, it is like trying to see things clearly while looking through a wavy glass brick.


Some of the things I've read make me appreciate the result rather than the journey. An example of this is my potty training. I'm glad someone took on the task, but I was getting weary of reading "Billy messed his pants today." I have been utilizing this training on a daily basis ever since, with very few mishaps. This morning a fellow at our breakfast table shared some wisdom about being a maturing male: Never pass up a bathroom, never take an erection for granted, and never trust a fart. That's all I'm going to say on that subject.


Ultimately, I am very grateful for my childhood, my parents, my neighbors, and the freedom that children could (mostly) safely enjoy in suburbia in the 1960's. I learned to wait for things, because most things took time. Popcorn made on the stovetop in a funny pan with a crank on the lid, photographs that had to be taken to the drug store and sent away to be developed, real chocolate pudding, shows like the Wizard of Oz and Cinderella which only came on television once a year. The only thing that came instantly was a spanking when I misbehaved.


This morning I'm going to share additional information about a few of the people my mother mentions frequently in her diary. Time factors will not allow me to talk about all of the important characters, but I may post a follow up on another day.


Ruby and Jim Humblett lived directly behind us. From the time that I was little until my parents moved in the mid-80's there was always an open space in the landscaping providing a pathway linking our homes. Ruby still lives in her house, and she bought my mom's car from me after Mom passed away. Ruby's husband Jim died in the mid-1960's, but I haven't read that far in Mom's diaries yet. Ruby & Jim had three children, and their youngest, Jimmy, was a favorite playmate of mine in 1962. They drove a Plymouth Fury station wagon. Ruby & Jim and my parents would play cards and Scrabble together some evenings, and Jimmy and I would play in my room.


Our next-door neighbors were Kitty & Elmo Newsome. They were older than my parents, and both grew up in Georgia (Jaw-juh). When my mother's relatives visited from Iowa, Mom would have to act as translator for the Southerners and the Yankees. Kitty & Elmo had lots of fruit trees and an enormous garden, and I loved to play in their yard. Elmo was a huge man, and he would pick me up and throw me WAY up in the air and catch me. I loved it when he did that. In the summer they would invite neighbors over for home-churned ice cream made from their peaches, and everyone took turns with the crank on the ice cream maker under their shade trees.


Gladys and George Baker were also neighbors, but they lived several blocks away in a brown-shingle rancher with a porch that had jalousie windows (remember those?). They had an older boy, Ronnie, who would grow up to become a chef and die with AIDS, and a daughter named Cindy who was a year younger than me. Their backyard had a large weeping willow, under which I talked Cindy into pulling down her panties to show me her private parts one day. George was a Navy diver on my dad's UDT team, and he gave me my first cat which I named after him.


Ray and Midge Warner lived one street over and a block down, they were both from West Virginia, and Ray was also in the Navy with my dad. They had a houseful of kids named Benny, Larry, Gary, Brenda, Barry, and Perry. They had a boisterous household, and I ate snowcream at their house for the first time when I was little. After Ray retired from the Navy, they bought a farm outside Dillwyn, Virginia, and Midge died with Scleroderma in the 1990's. Midge had my mother feel her face one time when my mom was visiting them, and my mom said her skin felt like porcelain.


Catherine and Fred Dowling were my unofficial in-town grandparents. Fred was my mother's former employer, and she lived with the Dowlings before she met my dad. My mother came to Norfolk from Iowa in the 1950's because of her second husband. He was in the Navy, and was an irresponsible husband-at-sea. My mother had no money, no food, and could not find employment because no one wanted to hire "Navy Wives" since they moved away with short notice. Fred hired my mom because she looked so pitiful, and because she told the truth when he asked her if she was a Navy Wife. He told her later that he could spot a military spouse as soon as they walked in his office, and she was the first one that didn't lie about it. She was the best secretary he ever employed. One day at work, my mom received flowers from her far-way husband; the next day she received divorce papers from him, which she signed immediately. My dad was friends with Fred, and eye-balled my mom when he came one day to visit Fred. That's how my parents met. After two losers, one abusive, one profligate, my mother found her handsome prince. Coincidence? You decide for yourself.


These ordinary, wonderful people helped weave the fabric of my life, and I am so thankful that I have been allowed to spend more time with them through my mother's diary. If you would like to spend a few moments with them, there is a link provided in the column to the right. My mom's daily diaries are an unintended gift, reminding me that my words and my actions impact others in ways I may never imagine, and, for that, I am responsible.