It is said that “everyone has a novel in them” and as much as I would love to write one, fiction is just not my cup of tea.  Rather, my own life experiences could fill volumes that most people can relate to. Quite by accident I put together over 300 pages of stories with 200 photos about my family.  The accident occurred when my brother’s two sons would beg us to tell them about where we lived and how we grew up and mostly asked how it was that we were so close and got along so well.

Since the boys lived in a neighboring state, I began to type stories that came to mind for our next visit and that is how it all began.  One story led to another with photos to back up some experiences so the boys could put a pictured face with the name and story.

One of the treasured stories was about Mr. Bryan’s Store.  The boys could not quite believe that directly across the street from our country home on Main Street was a general store where any and everything we could need was available to purchase from 6 a.m. to 6 pm six days a week and from 6 a.m. to noon on Sundays.

Mr. and Mrs. Bryan owned the store which included their residence encompassing the back of the first floor and the entire second floor.  There was a large covered front porch the width of the building where daily and Sunday newspapers were displayed for quick ‘pick-up’ by the locals going to and from work or Church.  People would stop to chat on the porch and have a ‘smoke’ or eat a big cone of ice cream that was purchased inside at the “fountain” area.

Immediately inside the door on the left was a large showcase, the counter where one put their purchases next to the register for payment and bagging.  Inside the glass showcase, children could see many types of penny candy from which they could choose.  Some were 2 for a penny.  All candy bars were 5 cents.  Continuing toward the back, still on the left side, you could buy cones of ice cream, popsicles, Dixie cups for 5 cents, while on the opposite side of the store was what we younger ones perceived as the ‘big kids’ counter to have Sundaes and Banana Splits that cost up to the lavish sum of 20 cents.

Any grocery item needed could be purchased, including fresh cut meat from the butcher block.  Bottles of soda of all flavors were kept in the back refrigerated area of the store.  And, I can’t forget the wall behind the front counter filled with cigarettes and cigars because we children were sent across the street to purchase them for the adults.  The cigarettes were 15 cents a pack.  A loaf of bread was also 15 cents.

As an adolescent, I bought my silk stockings right up to adulthood when I moved from my parents home and when I went to work I went through a pair a day at $1.00.  I remember an uncle giving me a big lecture about that daily purchase.  And so it went.

The personal relationship between the Bryans and my parents was very friendly and we visited them often.  The Bryans owned the first television and we were invited there 2 and 3 times a week to watch the new invention.  Incredible, warm memories.

After having moved away in 1975 I had not been in Bryan’s store until June of this year.  My husband and I took an extended three-state east coast trip and naturally stopped by our home towns.  I went to visit my parents’ gravesite and then decided to drive past my old house.  There was “Bryans” only now I saw the sign “Luncheonette” on the building.  We had to stop!  We walked in and I was amazed at how the general store had been transformed into a really nice luncheonette with a very long, curved counter and several booths around the rest of the area.  I sat down at the counter and I looked across the street through the window and gazed at my old home. 

My husband called the waitress to tell her that, “My wife grew up in that house across the street which her parents built!”  Linda went directly to the phone, dialed and began a short conversation, hung up and came around the counter.  She took my hand saying “Come with me, my parents own that home now and I’m taking you there… and by the way, my brother owns this Luncheonette.”  Wow!

I could not believe my feelings walking across a street that I had crossed a countless number of times from the age of three! I walked up the front porch steps and sure enough, the top step of the porch still had my handprint and the footprints of my two younger brothers embedded in the cement; faded but still visible.  I leaned down to put my hand in what was left of my tiny hand print and I was momentarily transported back in time.  The woman, Josephine, opened the door to me and hugged me immediately.  I did not know her but I felt the warmth as I had my entire life going through that front door.  So many memories.  The home was just remodeled so well with conveniences for people who are now retired.   Josephine and husband, David, are so obviously happy there and needless to say, Josephine had a lot of questions about the house that I was able to recall and answer for her.  I looked all around and the most important thing I left with was seeing the grounds.  Over an acre.  My mother single-handedly planted every single tree, bush, hedge and blade of grass and it was absolutely beautiful.  It was well kept and I know that my Mother and Father would be happy to know all their hard work was being enjoyed by very warm and loving people with their grown children and grandchildren.

So you see, sometimes you “can go home again.”

NEW YORK CITY PORT OF AUTHORITY

June 2007;  Just Before Rush Hour at 4:10 PM

A Sight for Sore Eyes!

I grudgingly moved from the east coast to California in 1975 having had a wonderful and full life there to that date.  Alas, weather conditions argued for a warmer climate when the last straw was breaking my windshield ice scraper, leaving me to sit freezing in my idling car for the defroster to clear a hole large enough to make it safe to drive home from work.

Having had the best of both worlds, I lived in the “country” with relatives in New York city just 35 miles away.  Our two families were very reminiscent of the “City Mouse and the Country Mouse.”  So, every two weekends we were in the city, and on opposite weekends, the city family was at our home in the country.  We children grew up well rounded.  And as adults, we continued our established life style.  Aunt Theresa in New York showed us everything to love about the city and my Mother showed the cousins everything to love about the country. 

I knew as soon as I moved into my residence in Santa Barbara, CA that things were not ever going to be the same.  I actually had culture shock for a very long time.  The long, warm days were almost boring and each evening the weather forecast was for 72 degrees and sunny. 

Having a career, I immediately set out to apply for employment and the first question every would-be employer asked was, “Why do you want to live here?”  I never had an answer to suit the question and finally, a wonderful and semi-retired State Senator with whom I became friendly said to me, “Marie, in this town, you have to earn the right to live here!” Wow!  I was not running for President of the U.S.  My dear friend shared a secret with me and I followed up with the information.  Sure enough, I was hired in a “New York Minute” by the new owner of a large business here.  He was from New York City.  He, too, had culture shock interviewing local people and not having much luck.  So, I was set, employment-wise.  But I was always asked the same question by those working and those entering my work place, “Wouldn’t you rather be at the beach today?”  They were always shocked at my immediate, “No!”

First, I missed the “Fall” of the east coast.  It was a physical as well as mental feeling.  Something was definitely missing.  So, I packed my bags and took a vacation to my homeland.  I was in heaven.  My food, my people, my life.   After my “east coast injection,” I returned to the west coast rejuvenated and ready to cope until the next vacation.  And that is how I managed to remain here.

I have not been able to visit the east for 10 years but finally… I just returned from the most wonderful east coast trip and the “injection” is still with me after 4 weeks.  I was absolutely thrilled to see in person a city cleaner than when I left it in 1975.  Oh I heard, I knew, but to see squeaky clean rest rooms complete with an attendant in the New York Port of Authority Building was so exciting I had to take a photograph.  The subways were so clean I was awestruck.  Not one inch of graffiti anywhere.  No debris on the ground and a very unobtrusive security guard presence.  I love the upscale News Stand with the blue lights enroute to the Subways.  After all that has gone on since 9/11 (yes, I sadly visited Ground Zero because, after all, I watched the towers being built and visited Windows on the World many times) this was indeed a wonderful experience and a fabulous homecoming.

Back in SB, people are asking “What’s up, you look and sound great?”  Right now it is still hard to believe that I left Santa Barbara for two weeks and there was not one single negative from departing to returning to my front door.  Everything was perfect and because I expected nothing except to ‘visit home,’ I was rewarded with all the improvements in both the city and the country.  Life is still beautiful there and I am so happy that there are no fences between houses in my country town.  Finally, the Sabrett Hot Dog Cart still sells the best hot dogs on the streets of the city where Wall Streeters and high end professionals stand in line to buy them all day long.  And, it felt so good to see people walking down the streets eating a properly folded “slice” (New York Pizza.)  Truly –  “A Sight for Sore Eyes!”