The good old days

This Tuesday when I went for my vitamin B12 shot, I met a woman in the doctor’s office who told me how much she enjoyed my columns, especially the ones about the “good old days.” She could relate to all my old stories. She was remembering walking home for lunch every day and finding a warm meal waiting for each one of them – and there were 10 children! How did her mother do it?

Yes, kids, we used to walk home for lunch and walk back to school every day. No bus rides at that time. And so many of us are still living in our eighties and even nineties. Do you suppose all that walking was good for us? We could save a lot of money by returning to walking.

She was reminiscing about an old Ford they had and they used to put in 25 cents worth of gas and go to Jamestown and see her brother’s girlfriend. Now you could only get some fumes for 25 cents!

We were reminiscing about prejudice in the schools. I should know. I went through a lot of it myself. I remember all the honor students were invited to a rich lady’s house for dinner and she was afraid I wouldn’t know which spoon to use. She didn’t have to worry because my sister Rose had taken a homemaking class and she taught us how to set the table and how to use our silverware! We caught on fast. I never worried about it. I watched others and followed suit.

I always measured a person’s success by the distance they have traveled. We learned fast.

I look at our families (mine and the Valone family). In the first generation, my brother Roddy married an English girl, Rose married a Murphy and Tony married into a family from Czechoslovakia. Since then, all our kids have married all kinds of mixtures. . There’s no prejudice in our families.

This makes me think about the immigration problem. The problem is going to be about paying for them, paying for all their needs housing, welfare, education, etc. Are we going to carry the load for all these needs? I look at all the doctors, all the educators. They come from all over. They are smart, too. So many Indians (from India) are operators. Sometimes I can’t understand them. Oh, well. Look at the bright side. We are survivors!