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Another in a series of columns about my parents’ lives in the hope they help preserve the memories of a wonderful generation that is quickly disappearing.
It always amazes me as time passes, we uncover little nuggets of information about our parents’ lives and, that no matter how long we live, we are still learning about their remarkable adventure together.
Aunt Mary Calvo was only 12 years old. America remained innocent of the prospects of a world war, despite the ominous clouds gathering in Europe. To her, the world was as innocent as a snowflake. She still glided on moonbeams when she walked. She had become a go-between for her older brother, Pete, and his girlfriend, Eleanor. She accepted the job gracefully as the duty of a younger sister.
In those days in South Philadelphia, the world was all about neighborhoods. You found a house you liked in a neighborhood that was safe and you settled there for the next 40 or 50 years. All of life was contained in those communities. The merchants knew you by name, so did the local pastor. The policeman directing traffic in front of the nearby school was your friend. Friends were friends for life. Love was gained and sometimes lost within just a few blocks of your home.
It was just another of those wonderful sunny days in summer when Pete called to Mary, that he needed her. Pete said he didn’t feel well and was going up to his bedroom, but he needed Mary to take a note to Eleanor, who lived less than a block away. He handed the small piece of paper to his sister and told her to make sure she didn’t lose it.
Mary found Eleanor sitting on her front step talking to a neighbor. Eleanor did not look like most of the Italian girls in the area. She had streaks of blonde in her hair and sparkling green eyes. Her striking appearance belied the fact Eleanor was very athletic, so athletic she had been labeled a tomboy.
Mary handed Eleanor the note, who quickly opened it. A puzzled look came over her face. There’s nothing on the paper, she told Mary, who was as puzzled as Eleanor. She figured she had better run back to her brother to find out what gives. Such was the burden of a go-between. She told Eleanor her brother must have given her the wrong note and off she went.
A horse and wagon carrying laundry detergent slowly made its way down the street, the man inside shouting out his wares. Everything moved at a slower pace. The streets were wide and spacious. Few people could afford automobiles. Everything was sold and delivered door-to-door by horse and wagon. The streets were understandably cluttered with horse droppings.
Mary opened the door to her home and ran up the stairs to tell her brother what had happened. He seemed flustered by the news until he realized he had, indeed, given his sister the wrong piece of paper. He gave her the note without apologizing. Older brothers didn’t feel it necessary to apologize to younger sisters.
Back Mary ran as fast as she could. Somehow she couldn’t shake the impression the mix-up had been all her fault. She found Eleanor still sitting on the front step. Eleanor looked apprehensive as she read the note. Pete was sick and he had called off their date.
Without explaining to Mary (older girls didn’t bother to explain things to 12-year-old girls), she accompanied her back to Pete’s home. He remained upstairs in the bedroom so Eleanor couldn’t visit him (girlfriends did not visit their boyfriends in their bedroom). Her only choice was to go into the kitchen where Pete’s mother was busy making lunch for her husband. Pete’s father was a barber and his shop was in the front of the house. Luckily, he was still at work cutting hair. Women didn’t bother men with personal problems.
Eleanor expressed her concern Pete was sick, hoping to get some information from the stout woman leaning over the stove. She smiled at Eleanor, flashing a gold tooth that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight of the small kitchen. She didn’t seem at all worried. She comforted Eleanor, telling her it was just a bad cold and Pete would likely be fine tomorrow because of the hot tea she had given him. Eleanor made sure she didn’t overstay her welcome.
Mary later found out Pete wasn’t sick at all. Her mother told her he had no money to keep his date with Eleanor. Her mother felt badly about it, but there was little money in the budget for such frivolity. Besides, deep inside, Pete’s mother felt he was too young to be getting involved with Eleanor, even though she seemed like such a nice girl.
Mary thought she had forgotten about how badly she had felt for her brother at the time, but here she was 72 years later telling Pete’s son about a day that seemingly had been lost in time. It seems nothing, no matter how small the incident, is ever really forgotten about the ones we love.
