50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #6

George Washington

The truth is when I told my parents I was bringing home George Washington for them to meet, they asked me what color he was. They weren't prejudice like the movie, "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?", but in truth, there are more black George Washingtons than white. 

It's not easy living with such a famous name. The most common question is: "Did you get teased as a kid?" Well, duh. Sometimes he may answer, "Never" just to see their response. Or "No, why?" 

People love to come up with a joke and he said he rarely hears anything new. People always think they are the first to ask, "Did you chop down a cherry tree?" Or ask about his teeth or where he slept. 

When being introduced, I have often been asked if my name is Martha or told that my name should be Martha. I respond with, "No that's his sister." Which is true. 

Of course, they ask if he's related to the president and his immediate answer is, "No Trump and I are not related." He inserts the name of whoever is the current president.

He tells them he was born on George Washington's birthday. They are amazed. He says, "Yes, June 15th."

We do inform them that we have not yet found our tree linked to the first president but George's lineage does go back to England and it is possible, though not directly. Remember George Washington did not have any children.

We have tried in the past to cash in on the name, yet no one has given us a discount on President's day. We have suggested that motels or inns, etc. could advertise that "George Washington slept here" after we left and hoped to get a discount. No such luck. We know people are going to tell others that they met George Washington.

We tried a play on words for George's business cards for his cleaning business, Minuteman Cleaning. We proclaimed, "George Washington swept here." The printers thought it was a typo and put "slept" and we had to have them re-do them. 

After we were married George did join the reserves and they made a big thing of it at Westover Air Force Base on February 22 with TV crews. I will admit that being newly married, I didn't like him being away one weekend a month and he didn't stay in the reserves long. 

One fun event George attended a few times was the celebrity name blood drive. People who shared their name with someone famous donated blood together at one place. He met Peter Rabbit, John Smith, Liz Taylor and many other people who had famous names. 

When we had children, George joked we were going to name them Seattle or Tacoma. When we had a son, despite George's father and grandfather being named George (middle name different, so no number after the name), he refused to do that to his son. We were doing a Bible study at the time and I loved the name Elijah but George was afraid he would be teased because it was close to Eliza. So, we chose Benjamin Elijah. And still people teased Ben calling him Benjamin Franklin. You just can't win.

Despite having a famous name, George is amazed when he runs into some people who can't remember his name and call him Al, his brother's name. This has happened on several occasions. 

I will admit that I had a little fun with the name. I was born Deborah Jane Casey. I never was thrilled with my middle name and when I got married and changed my name, I chose Deborah Casey Washington. My Mom thought it was nice that I was keeping Casey. I wasn't sure how they would take me changing my given name. The fun part of my new name was when I have to sign a paper last name first, it comes out "Washington, D.C."

Also going from Casey to Washington took getting used to--a last name twice as long. I know my kids' signatures are blurred--you can't read the skid marks that they have made of the letters. For most of our lives, I would take care to write my name legibly, however the older I got and seeing what my kids get away with, I kind of skate through a couple of the letters in my last name. If we are signing something together, George will often remind me, "Use all of the letters".  

Although I think George would have preferred a different first name, I am sure that having such a name has helped him to develop his sense of humor and has shaped who he is.

"A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold."

Proverbs 22:1

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #5

Entrepreneurs

I don't know what made us both have this inner desire to have side businesses. I don't know if this desire is common to most people. I just know we have often tried "side-hustles". We were probably in search of more money and success. Maybe we just needed something else to keep us busy in life. We were good at keeping busy. I will say my parents had this same spirit. Mom and Dad used to enter these puzzle contests and one day they thought it would be more lucrative to run their own. They did that for a while, sadly with not great success. Dad became a real estate salesman for a while, branching out on that side job. My parents also joined us (or maybe we joined them) in Yureka foods and Universe Foods, two different multi-level marketing companies. My Dad was always thinking of possible inventions or games, and I should mention his brother, my Uncle Joe, was a very creative person too. 

Let me go back in our lives' histories. Even before marriage I found opportunities to volunteer--I was a Junior Achievement Advisor, I tutored a woman in math (not my forte, but I was asked). I typed large print books for the visually impaired. Later I was a girl scout leader, helped out at my kids school and different activities (they never asked me to handle refreshments for the talent show again--I got so many people to donate that it had to be turned into an unplanned bake sale!). I arranged for a special mobile unit that had seats the kids could sit in and watch about fire safety at the school. I was in charge of collecting the soup labels. When I was in high school, I founded and published a town newspaper, "Hartland Highlights" for two years with help from a couple of visionary friends. I know over my lifetime that I am forgetting something. 

We were both often involved with our churches, from being Sunday school teachers, Sunday school superintendent, church custodians, Sunday school secretary, Awana leaders, in charge of the meal ministry and other ministries at church. When a friend of us was terminally ill in a nursing home, George went weekly to read to her. I know they read at least two books together. That was the volunteer side.

Our first entrepreneurial dream was when we were married and had the cabin on our property. I enjoyed planning children's parties--always games, activities, prizes and at that time, I made cute cakes and somehow was going to offer photographs too. I thought I could turn it into a business. Why take your kids to Chucky Cheese's when you could take them to the Party Cabin? I was on a roll until the price of insurance derailed our dreams. We would have had to charge too much.

George and a co-worker bought donuts and tried to sell them to the other commuters on their bus, a short-lived attempt to make a little extra money.

I have a little notebook remembering some of our business ventures. We did several multi-level marketing. Raleigh Products (similar to Watkins products) was our best one. We had a good time doing tasting parties. George would give the talk and I would prepare and serve samples of the products. We did quite well until the person above us did us wrong. We were disappointed to leave. 

We joined this company called "Gifttime" where we distributed catalogs and we got a percentage of the sales. We called ourselves "Hometown Products". 

I did a craft fair one year selling earrings that I made out of scrabble and puzzle pieces and also mini dog biscuit Christmas trees. It was fun but I was not really crafty enough to pursue that venue. 

Not necessarily entrepreneurial, but George being a history major has always had a love of politics. He ran for selectmen in Norfolk on his own party, the Federalist Party, and twice on the Barkhamsted Republican party. He didn't get elected but he tried. 

One of our most successful ventures was the Barkhamsted mug and t-shirts. George came up with the concept of the design and we paid an artist friend to actually do the artwork. We sold the items ourselves and also as fundraisers for the Women's club and other groups. It was a win-win situation. We tried a t-shirt design for Winsted designed by a college art student, but it didn't do very well. (We still have a lot of leftover Winsted t-shirts!). Unfortunately, Bowlmaster, where we had our items manufactured went out of business without notifying us and didn't return the templates, so that business was put to an end. There may be a way nowadays to still re-create these items, I'm not sure but I have to tell myself we are retired. 

We also were book distributors. When George discovered a library that he cleaned would put purged books in the dumpster, he asked them to hold them out and he would save them. We have done that for many years, saving perfectly good books from destruction. We sold some on Amazon, but most were relocated to my daughter's school, nursing homes, friends, little libraries, and as a last resort, Goodwill or other thrift stores. 

Of course, all these entrepreneurial genes led George to starting his own businesses. He did window washing, painting, his Minuteman Cleaning business and Minuteman Properties, his landlord business. I prided myself for coming up with the slogan on George's cleaning business cards, "George Washington swept here."

In my retirement, I pursued my dream of having a book published. It was not the book I had planned on publishing, but my grandson led me on a different path, and I ended up with my first book, "A Fish in a Tree". Maybe someday I will pursue other writing projects, but at least I did accomplish that one. 

I probably left out some ventures, but this was to show you we didn't always just dream about things (though we did daydream about a lot of other things--soup and salad bar restaurant comes to mind, but there were many more). We ventured out. We tried. We have no regrets for any of them.

"Lazy hands make for poverty, but diligent hands bring wealth." Proverbs 10:4

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #4

Nine Months

It's not what you are thinking. Nine months is how long we knew each other before we got married. I will tell you, yes, we were in love but in nine months we also did not fully know each other.

I remember the first time I saw George really lose his temper--it was after we were married. After we were married, he learned just how poor I was at housekeeping but pretty good at cooking. After we were married, we learned all the little tweaks about life that one liked one way and another liked a different way, whether it be squeezing toothpaste a certain way, folding clothes certain ways, hanging clothes on hangers right or left-handed or other quirks.

Even if we had lived together before marriage which the world now embraces (but our faith doesn't agree), life's circumstances shape people and we all change. Parenthood is a learning process and surely changes a person. Different jobs shape people, loss of loved ones, health issues, and so many more of life's passages change us.

There were times when being married was hard. Life gave us many obstacles that we didn't always agree on the way to get around them, but we hung in there and we got through them one way or another. He would tell you I always got my way, but I would say differently for sure. There were arguments and hardships. I just want to let anyone know that being married 50 years is no easy task. It's not that two people are the absolute perfect fit in every way, but they learn how to work with each other with their different strengths and weaknesses. They learn the ebb and flow of the waves of life to navigate the course together. To be truthful, sometimes I did wonder if our ship was going to survive the storms.

I guess this one is a public service announcement. Hang in there. One piece of advice that I would give is to not take everything so seriously or "don't sweat the small stuff". There are so many big things to get through, let the little slide. And we have found humor is a great healer and a great way to overcome little things.

I remember the time that George was annoyed that I had not picked up the correct type of peanut butter. He liked crunchy and I had gotten creamy (which, of course, I prefer--we have our differences). It was breakfast and I had just made scrambled eggs. He reiterated so I would get it right next time, "I like crunchy peanut butter, crunchy cookies (not chewy ones)."

I plopped his plate of eggs on the table and said, "Fine, next time I'll make your eggs crunchy!" A moment that could have snowballed, was turned into laughter. Laughter has healing powers, as long as not at anyone's expense. We have had a lot of laughs in 50 years. 

"Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart." Deuteronomy 8:2

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #3

In fifty years, we have lived in four places--all within twenty miles of each other.

When we were first married, I moved into George's apartment on Wall Street in Torrington. He had been living in a small apartment on the third floor but moved to the first floor when we were getting married. To be honest, I barely remember too much about it. We were there for about five months. Sadly a few months after we moved out a fire destroyed the whole building. We can only drive by the empty lot and say, "That's where we first lived." The houses were so close, it's hard to imagine there was even a house there. 

Remember how I said I didn't go to college but went right to work? Well, I also lived with my parents. At one point I was considering getting an apartment with friends, but my parents were so distraught about that, that I abandoned that idea. They loved having me around but also didn't see the need for me to waste money on living elsewhere. As I have said before we were a strong family unit, a triangle that could not be broken. This made it hard for me to tell them when George proposed. I thought they would be upset, but no, getting married was different and they were happy for me. 

Shortly before we were married, I disclosed to George that I had a little bit of savings. He was quite amazed. Because of my savings, we were able to have the down payment to become homeowners within five months. He joked that he didn't know he was marrying into money. Now, it wasn't that much, but enough to get us started. 

Our first home was Stony Hill, a cute four room house up a long 450-foot-long driveway in Norfolk, CT. I have fond memories from the cute little home--beautiful flowers and a veggie garden, many cultivated raspberries, a nice deck out front and a boy scout cabin we had moved there where we had our kid's birthday parties. In the house, there was an actual staircase to the attic. What a delight. 

I do remember the negatives: the long uphill driveway that had me in tears when the plow broke down and we were shoveling it by hand. Also, this was the old days and although my parents only lived 25 miles away, they were a toll call whenever I called. Back in those days if you called someone long distance, you were charged extra each time. Thus, my Mom actually wrote me letters sometimes. 

I have covered more details about our housing journey in the past, so for now, will not go into the details of the long, detoured journey of heartbreak and struggles, but will say in 1985 we ended up in Barkhamsted and it is still our home. We love our town.

We didn't intend on renting for more than a year, but circumstances found us at the Rocktree Apartments in Pleasant Valley for eight years. I will say for apartments, we couldn't have had a better country setting for the kids to grow up in. There was a big backyard and a long rectangular gazebo where they always played and we held all the birthday parties there. From our living room sliding glass doors to the deck, we could see Ski Sundown lit up at night. One quirky thing the kids like to remember is when you opened the oven door in the tiny kitchen, anyone in the bathroom would be locked in. The apartment was set up like a raised ranch with the bedrooms downstairs. Unfortunately there were only two bedrooms forcing our kids to share a room all those years. Our single Dad neighbor chose to sleep in his living room giving his kids each their own bedroom. He was quite the Dad. On the other hand, my husband often reminds us that his family was so big growing up, that he rejoiced when someone moved out of his bed. 

The road was long, but prayers were answered in God's time and in 1993 we not only got a house, we had one built. We chose a ranch style anticipating it would be our retirement home, and we would not want to deal with stairs--now we are realizing the true wisdom in that choice. We do have to go downstairs to our laundry (which could have been on the main floor instead of a pantry, but I do l like my pantry). 

I am happy to say we are still here. 

If I had thought about these posts earlier, I could have included more pictures of our journey, but I am rushed now with each day moving me along. Maybe at some point I will add more pictures to each blog entry. 

"My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest." Isaiah 32:18

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #2

I am realizing it's going to be hard to pick out which memories of many years together to pick out. I may not go chronologically and maybe it will be haphazard--like my daily rabbit trails.

Facts: 

We met on January 31, 1975

First date February 2, 1975

About May 17 George gave me a lilac bush. He knew it was my favorite flower. We planted it at my parents' house. It is still there but doesn't do very well in the shady spot, but it's still alive.

We became engaged on May 24, 1975--how could I say no to someone who gave me lilacs?

This is my poor lilac bush, still hanging in there 50 years later.

He asked me to marry him in the parking lot of the Chart House in Avon, another spot we sometimes went to for a drink upstairs. I still have the little champagne bottle from when we celebrated there.

We picked out our rings together in one day of running around to several places. We ended up picking out our rings at George's Jewelers in Westfield, MA. We have driven by and we see it is still in business. We should really stop by someday. 

After running around that day, we were late to see his mother when we were going to tell her the news. Because we were late, she was upset with us. You never wanted to cross his mother. She did come around, in time, as she always did. 

I always dreamed of a fall wedding, so when picking the date, it was either the fall of that year or wait over a year. We did not want to wait, so November 1st was chosen, a mere nine months from when we met. 

My easy choice of attendants were two friends I became close with at work and one childhood friend: Kathy Quick, Joanne Bazzano and Janice Senter. George chose his brother, Al and two childhood friends: Rob Harrington and Joe Sverni. George's niece, Lisa Namey was chosen at flower girl, and his nephew, Scott Batky, as ring bearer. 

Memorabilia from the day:

We were married at Norfolk Congregational Church by Reverand Bruce Anderson. Our wedding reception was at Dileo's Grove. I have to find the spelling of the name of our photographer, something like John (Jean) Rebeuff. He had a French accent and kept us in stitches. The weather was the most perfect autumn day nearly 70 degrees. "What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate." Mark 10:9

50 days of remembering 50 years #1 The Beginning

It's 50 days away from our 50th wedding anniversary. I thought I would share something each day about our journey together. Some are stories told over and over again, so bear with me. I do need to start at the beginning once again. 

It was January 1975. I was still living at home with my parents in East Hartland. I had been working at Connecticut General Life Insurance Company in Bloomfield for a little over 3 years, straight out of high school. For most of my life, I have avoided the subject when people talked about what college they attended as I felt a stigma of being a lowly high school graduate, but in my old age, I cannot care anymore, and I actually did fine without it. I had intended to work for a year to save up money to go to college (Although a spoiled only child, my parents did not intend on funding it. Dad thought college mostly taught common sense and he said I had that.)  I told my guidance counselor that I was going to work for a year to save money and then apply for a college in White Plains, NY to study advertising. He told me I would never go if I started working. I didn't believe him, but he was right. 

About twenty miles away, George, who had grown up in Norfolk, was living in Torrington and working at UOP Aerospace in Bantam. He had served in the Air Force and was an air traffic control operator in Vietnam at the air base in Pleiku. He loved being an air traffic controller best of all the jobs he ever had. He attended college on the GI bill majoring in history, considering being a teacher. He was 28 years old and I was 22--boy, does that sound young now. At the time, I was wondering if I would ever meet Mr. Right. You've heard of the comparisons between Lincoln and Kennedy, I presume. Well, George and the guy I went out with before him both were one of 13 kids in the younger end of the family, both had mustaches, both had served in the Air Force and in Vietnam. They were both older than me. If you want to get crazy, both had 6 letters in their first names, brown hair, were around the same height, and had good senses of humors. Later I told myself that God had said, you almost have the right guy. 

Back in those days, Friday nights were the night that singles usually went out to the local lounges. In our area we had the Dial Tone Lounge (a unique experience where you had phones at your tables and could call a stranger at another table to start a conversation). There was a place in Canton, I can't remember the name, for some reason I think the Cracker Barrel--the chairs were barrels and they played old black and white silent movies on the walls. There were quite busy places in the Hartford area attracting a ton of people. In Winsted there were bars, but in Torrington, there was the Springtree Lounge. To me it seemed like a more upscale place as opposed to the bars, and it had live music. 

I was paired up with my friend's cousin to go out on Friday nights, yes, honestly hoping to meet someone. I had just gotten back from a road trip to Michigan to visit my closest friend. Her sister and I had made the trek. Meanwhile back home, my Friday night friend was anxiously waiting for me to return, expecting me to go out that night. I was still recovering from the trip and didn't want to go out at all. She begged and pleaded and I gave in. And that was the night on January 31, 1975, I met George Washington. 

He asked me to dance and I don't know if I would exactly say it was love at first sight, but I thought, "There's something different about this guy." He asked for my phone number and I reached for a notepad I had in my purse--coincidentally it looked like a dollar bill (another sign?).

He didn't want to ask me out for the next day. He thought that was too assuming, but he called and asked me to go for a ride on Sunday and I went. 

From then on we met at the Springtree Lounge or went out every weekend. I don't remember exactly how, but "Mandy" by Barry Manilow became 'our song'. 

Neither of us dated anyone else since. I did get asked out, ironically around February 22.  I told the guy I was seeing someone else. I don't know why, but the guy asked me who had asked me out. When I answered, he must have thought I could lie better than saying, "George Washington". 

Something I haven't shared but might as well...there is often this awkwardness about a first kiss. George did not want to be too forward, but he was also a bit shy about it. As we stood on my front step after our third date, he pointed in the sky and said, "Look! There's Halley's comet!" and as I looked up, he stole a kiss. Obviously, whenever anyone mentions Halley's comet, it has a different meaning for us. 

"I have found the one whom my soul loves." 

Song of Solomon 3:4

High School Sweethearts 1951: Helen and Wally

 
My parents met in high school and were class sweethearts. I recently found their high school senior yearbooks. I enjoyed seeing a glimpse of that time in their lives. For those who knew my Dad in later years and wonder about his name, since his brothers were both named Joseph, he went by his middle name, Walter or Wally, until he moved to Connecticut. 

My Dad, I wonder who's holding the other end?

My Mom:

Dad in chorus (last row 3rd from the right)

I'm not sure what "Class Day Parts" was, but he deserved acknowledgement. 

Age/Famous For/Pastime:

Class gifts: 

Class Will

Class Prophecy

Some of the autographs:

And in case you missed that last autograph:

My parent's song

One year later:

My parents married on June 7, 1952. They were married until death parted them on June 19, 2013. The high school love that was expressed in their yearbooks, lasted forever. I found love letters they wrote to each other reinforcing this lifelong love. 

Here is a video of my Dad explaining how he met my mother in high school. 

Joe Casey and Square dancing