Teresa
Reflections from #6 - Teresa
The Whole ls Equal To The Sum Of Its Parts -Teresa 12/20 04
Mom and Dad
(A story that cannot accurately be told...there just aren't words.)
Ten Ringwood children were blessed to be born to parents that loved each other every day of their lives together. We know, because we saw it. We were born into a family large in size, but somehow our parents made each of us feel unique and special and always completely loved We know. because we felt it. Theirs was a love story, and although it was not long enough, clearly the stories tell- it was indeed a love story.
***
We were of family often children: Nancy, Mike, Patty, Tom, Jack, Teresa, Paul, David, Peter, and Bob each with a common look (something about that Crawford nose) but unique personalities. We were charged with a "buddy" (the one that you most resembled) and at critical times you were connected to that buddy for safety purposes, such as the Chicago International Airport. My buddy was Mike- how lucky for me/ And yet four distinctive groupings evolved as the family grew: Nancy-Mike-and Patty, Tom-Jack-and Teresa, Paul and Dave, and finally Pete and Bob.
Nancy-Mike-and Patty: they were our Ringwood ''Mod Squad " completely cool trendsetters, most especially for the younger seven. They did not have an easy role, but with each other and for each other they traveled together the journey of growing up. They were close in age and many ''first" began with this trio.
Nancy refers to herself as the #J Ringwood (rather than the oldest) and I think that she is completely right. She is at the top of the list in so many ways and I respect Nancy completely! Dad, would likely describe Nancy as a woman with MOXY--he knew because Nancy inherited that presence from him. She is poised, smart, and funny. She is someone always in control, but just a smidgen below the surface is the wild and fun side of my sister. She is curious and strong, a beautiful woman, indeed! Nancy has style.
When I look at photographs of Nancy as a baby and a child, she was beautiful-a Gerber baby, full face with huge eyes, freckles, and sparkle. Nancy still is a beautiful woman and what makes her even more beautiful is her intelligence and confidence. A Nancy memory .../ think that it took place at the start of her freshman year at Mount Carmel.
Nancy had earned money from her summer job, most likely babysitting, and I recall her making a number of new clothing purchases from "Robert Hall. " This was my sister, at a new school, no longer attending and wearing the traditional green of Holy Family (along with the rest of us). She fascinated me; she seemed so sophisticated and independent. During the first week or so of the school year, the students at Mount Carmel were allowed to wear something other than their uniform. Nancy was walking home from school that day, crossing the Lake Avenue Bridge wearing a dress designed with bright colors and a bold paternal. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Although I knew that she was my sister, J couldn't quite believe it, for I really didn't know this amazingly stylish woman walking my way. And that's the way it is with Nancy, she stands out in any crowd, not just because of how she looks, but more importantly who she's. Nancy is the # I Ringwood!
i feel that I have always had a special and quiet connection with my brother Mike, after all -- he is my "buddy." But it wasn't until he went away to school that I really considered my brother and his role in the family. I missed Mike when he left; Marquette University in Wisconsin seemed like such a long way away. It felt as if he might never return. I recall sitting at the kitchen table talking with Mom. She was sending Mike some chocolate chip cookies for his birthday- packing them in an empty coffee can, how clever! She asked if I wanted to send Mike a note for his birthday, she would enclose it with the cookies. And so I wrote Mike a note, telling him that I felt horrible that he was away for his birthday. I wondered if he would be having cake and sharing the day with someone. I worried that he was lonely. And then, typical of Mike, he turned his birthday into a special day for me. One day soon after he received my letter he responded with a note telling me just how much he loved college and how exciting it was lo be away.from home meeting new people and living on his own. He enclosed for me a !-shirt from Marquette, a gift for me. f was a freshman in high school and Marquette was a powerhouse basketball team at that time. And while I was not the least bit impressed with Marquette 's athletics, this new shirt generated conversation with the boys in my class. "Hey, where did you get that shirt?" "Oh,just my brother...he goes to school there!" Mike is one of the kindness men that I know and I will always be grateful to be his budd
Patty, my sister and my friend. f "feel" her differently than my other siblings. I suspect it is because we have lived with each other (in room as well as heart, and soul) our entire lives. Despite the four-year age difference (which really only mattered in high school and college) we journeyed together through girlhood, teenage years, young adult life, married life, and motherhood. My sister Patty is like my favorite pair of flannel pj's--- -they always/eel just right, safe, warm, and good. Patty could best be described as the creative force in our family and it is not just because of her artistic gifts--she breathes emotions! She regularly uses words like "joy" and "glorious" and while for some that might sound over-the-top, for Patty, again- it is just right.I It must not have been easy having /he younger sister in your room-Patty had no privacy growing up. Even today I can outline the room that we shared together as girls: twin beds with flowered bedspreads, one desk, one "make-up" table which I used as a desk and a chest a/drawers-Teresa on the left and Patty on the right. (For some odd reason 1 found it much more convenient to simple shove my day's outfit under my bed. Out of sight and out of mind!) I recall nick-knacks precisely positioned on our dresser.
Magazine pictures of "John, George, Paul, and Ringo" were carefully taped to the wail in such a way that wherever you stood in our bedroom, one of the "Beatles" would be looking at you! With Patty, you are both protected and pampered, she is the eternal mother. There has not been one significant threshold step (from back brace to Bill) that I crossed without leaning on Pally. While she left our childhood bedroom just weeks after high school, J have never been ·without her a single day in my life.
Tom, Jack, and Teresa, we flew just under the radar- the perfect spot. What the oldest three didn't try first. Tom did! What the oldest three didn't plan or figure out first, Jack did! And I learned from it all- what l could get away with, what I couldn't getaway with. What was and wasn't worth the effort and heartache, but most of all- what was important.
My brother Tom has more friends than anyone I know- any one! People love Tom; he has magnetism about him. Charisma, "people-person" qualities, whatever you want lo call hanging with Tom was about the best fun one could ask for. It seems as if many "Tom" stories surround trouble. As a little girl I worried about him. Mom would often remind us to behave because she planned on spending eternity with all of us. It seemed clear to me, the only way to get to heaven was to stay good. I remember wondering just how could Mom be happy in heaven... the chances seemed pretty strong that Tom wasn't going to make it! In truth, Tom was just filled with life and fun and friends and adventure- he was a real life Tom Sawyer. Perhaps my wonderful brother found himself in a bit of a jam or two, but really Tom has always been the rescuer. He saved me more time than I can remember--bad boys and late nights, trouble, loneliness, and doubt. Yes, Tom the rescuer.
Downtown Auburn was great fun in the early 60 's. There were a variety of department stores; but a favorite was "Grants.,., What made this store so special was the pet department located downstairs to the left. You simple had to follow your nose to visit the fish, birds, and turtles. The only thing I ever remember purchasing from this store was a $1. 00 tie for Dad for Father's Day- but I sure did spend plenty of time in the store. Watching the fish was intoxicating, just following the goldfish as they swam through the murky water in and out of the toy castles. But. watch out! "Tom, I have to go the bathroom. " He might reply, "No you don'ti" with my response, "Yes, I do." There we stood in Grants Department Store, Teresa with her legs crossed, not daring to look in the direction of the water and Tom 'fishing" in his pocket.s In those days, you needed to put a dime in the lock on the door to use the facilities. Well, thank goodness for big brothers that have change in their pockets. Once ;n the bathroom I felt much better and was excited to return to the spot watching the fish. But, as luck would have it- I could not get out. No matter how I tried to jiggle the door I could not get it open. I felt trapped I could hear Tom's voice on the other side but I just could not get out. And so, Tom the rescuer probably surrendered the only other dime that he had just to save his sister. Tom is definitely one of my heroes- he certainly was that day and many days since.
I was lulled to sleep almost each night during my childhood on Owasco Street with the sound of Jack 's shoes as they hit the floor of his closet. It made me feel good knowing that he was just next door and I imagined that it was his way of saying, "Goodnight Teres. " Although, it wouldn't end there ... "I'll see you in the morning, that is unless I die, then I won't see you but you will see me. Or if you. die, I will see you but you will not see me. " "Goodnight Jack!" Jack has always called me Teres, and I love that about him. I have been truly blessed to have my brother Jack as one of my best friends. We spent our high school and college years as best buddies and even though he to/ally ignored me as we passed in the hallways at AHS, I knew he was just kidding because there was no doubt about it-we were best friend<;. I treasure the many memories that we have. "Vay a la tienda a noche?" Together, we ate Jar too much candy and fast food, we watched lots of late night television, and we had endless conversations (some [which bet;ween Nazareth and Georgetown lasted until the wee hours of the morning). We found wonderful ways to pass the time, paper airplane races out his bedroom window, Battleship, flying kites over the Lake Avenue Bridge, watching the beautiful water of Skaneateles Lake, Hoopes Park skating, Washington, DC
With Jack I journeyed through the awkward times of high school and college. And while I was trying so hard to fit in or figure out how to fit in, when J was with Jack Jell my best and totally safe. Jack and Teres, buddies! He listened to my thoughts and ideas, he answered questions and never made me feel silly for posing them, and he laughed at my Jokes and antics. During those discovery years there were times when I made plenty of poor choices, and there was Jack, my foundation. We really did spend a lot of time together and there was a time in my life when 1 felt I could not live a day without Jack. And yet, as I’ve grew, Jack became more adventurous (Georgetown and England) and I grew in confidence - a g[ft from Jack to Teres. He gave me the courage to move forward on my own, missing him, missing Dad, missing the innocent of those childhood years, missing the warmth and safety of Owasco Street, but always and forever warmed by the memories of Jack and Teres days.
Next in line, Paul and David- survival of the fittest! These two brothers will always be connected in my mind and memories; they were paired together in the love and war of brotherhood.
If there was one person in the world that I could be more like, l would want it to he Paul. I am crazy about my brother Pauli I like being with him, at his house, at a party, at my house. with his family, at a basketball game, skiing-- it is just great being around Paul---that is, on a good day. The wonderful thing about Paul is that you know exactly where you stand with him. He is no phony; if he doesn’t want to be around you and/or disapprove or disagrees with your position, he won't hold back. And although we tease him about "being a jerk" he typically sizes people and situations up quite accurately. I suspect that is why he is such a successful salesman- so much like his father and namesake.
Paul is that "larger than life" kind of guy-he does things in a BIG way and more often than not he welcomes you to join him along the way. He works hard, he plays hard, and he loves his family--fiercely. Paul and l were close in age and proximity in the family, but during my childhood I was more connected with Jack (and Cheryl), of course. Paul ran with Peggy G. and John W., the Anna Street gang. Although, we did find our own fun. One f the best parts of a big family is the ready availability of a friend or playmate. Paul and I were pals in the house. Inf act we created a game that kept us occupied for hours-----S ... P .. . Y- "Spy." Our favorite hiding "spy" spot was the living room closet. It was large enough for two and contained a very neat floor storage box that we used as a seat. f 'm sure we uncovered many secrets about our brothers and sisters - but I don 'I remember them now. What l do remember is the.fun that I had with by brother Paul.
He became a more solid piece in my life when I moved back to Auburn with my family. It was not too long ago when I received one of Paul's random phone calls. "Hey, I was just thinking about you... " There I was sitting at the computer working on these stories. Out of the blue Paul calls lo tell me that a song came on the radio and it made him think f me , and thus, the phone call. That is really an example of what I admire so much about Paul; he.follows through - you can count on Paul. Paul has the biggest heart in the world. I am crazy about my brother Paul!
No one can make me laugh like my brother Davit/! My little brother David was the very first baby that I can remember. We were living on Steel Street (I was all of 4) and David, the newborn baby, along with Mom and Dad arrived home to the Ringwood family on a beautiful spring day. It was such a surprise to me-one minuet he wasn’t there and then suddenly he was. 1 am sure that someone told me a new sibling was born- but this was all new to me. David was secure in a bucket seat and Dad placed him on the counter (or maybe ii was a table) in the kitchen. ft was all so exciting ! To Mom and Dad's credit they raised their children with the joy of life-- especially the miracle of birth. Nothing made us more excited and happy than the thought of a new baby in the house. Nancy experienced the reality of this the most, but I know exactly where I was standing or sitting when Mom and Dad told us that a new baby (Peter and Bob) was coming! I imagine that our joy was really a reflection of their joy- how blessed we were raised.
David was and is a unique individual. He sang a solo in the Christmas show at school- failed to mention it to anyone until the day of the performance. Who knew that #8 could sing! He arranged/or his own birthday party while Mom and Dad were out of town- why not! He excelled in eve,y sport that he tried, if there was a hall- David claimed it. He was a good student, a kind person, and always a lady 's man- I never recall David without a girlfriend!
I hold one special memo,y of David close to my heart. It was an autumn afternoon and for some reason David and I wound up at SCC. The weather was crisp, leaves danced along the fairway. It was quiet; the hustle of the summer was over. And yet, the sun was out and I think that we both knew that this was just a beautiful day-a beautiful day to be out on the golf course. near the water, and most importantly with each other. David was and is an outstanding golfer, and myself on the other hand- a danger to all those around as well as cars, horses, and barns. Oddly enough, we were on the first hole (typically I skipped it because the parking lot was too close). David gently suggested that I use the men's tees. He thought it might help if I positioned myself more to the left and he recommended that 1 move my feet. Here I was the older sister, probably thought I was doing something great taking my little brother golfing. In fact, David, the patient teacher was instructing me. I don't recall the remaining 8 holes (never played 18 in my life) but I do know that on that day I sensed that my little brother was a young man and well on his way lo adulthood. 1 could tell that he was going to be a good man! He displayed a gentle poise- it was no longer big sister and little brother, David grew up before my eyes. It felt so very good sharing that day with him and 1 was right, David is a good man. Where would we all be without Pete and Bob, the youngest two that rounded out the Ringwood clan, but in many ways swam on their own! This is somewhat of a melancholy moment because I know that we are coming to the end of the line and the end of the story.
Everything about Peter is gentle. I am not quite sure about this, but I think that I am ten years older than Peter; he has always been my little brother. The Christmas before Peter's birth was something magical/ or me. I received in my pile of presents a note from Santa explaining to me that the doll highchair that the elves were working on was not quite ready. It was designed for me and needed to be perfect,· it was just going to be a hit late. I could not believe ii-a note from Santa to me. I never once doubted its authenticity, did not dare to compare handwriting or paper source. This was direct evidence that Santa did exist (despite what Tom said) and I had a special toy just waiting for me. Christmas past, the presents found their way to our rooms, we returned back to school and life went on. I forgot about the highchair. Oh yea, there was a baby coming.
One afternoon, upon arriving home from Holy Family School (uniform, school coat; hoots, and yellow book bag) we all entered the house and were greeted with the news that baby Peter and Mom were home from the hospital. I remember running through the house excited to see my new brother, but even happier to have Mom home! Our front hallway was wonderful, there was a beautiful alcove under the curved staircase. I stopped; there stood the highchair that Santa promised! Highchair- -new baby and Mom, which one to see first? I ran up those stairs to Mom and Dad's room and welcomed Peter and Mom home!
The summer after Peter's birth it was my “job” after dinner was over, was to take Peter.for a walk in his stroller. I loved that time with my little baby brother. Peter was a good baby and toddler, wonderful child and young man and to this day the gentleness in Peter is clearly evident. There is something very youthful and innocent about his eyes, smile, and laugh. Now my brothers might say otherwise, but to me, Peter is just about as perfect as they get- he isl I was a daydreamer and as I walked around'the block with my brother I wondered about a lot of things. How would Peter's voice sound when he began to talk, did he know how much I loved him, what would he like to do and he when he grew up? These were questions that ran through my mind. One walk in particular stands out; these walks were becoming routine. I wanted to make Peter laugh and I started running behind the stroller as 1 pushed. It seemed as if Teresa, Peter and stroller were flying down Owasco Street. Peter was laughing with delight- -! liked making him happy. And then, we crashed The sidewalks in front of our Owasco Street home were anything but flush and smooth. 1 had hit a crack or bump in the sidewalk and suddenly the stroller was on its side; Peter was unhurt but scared and crying. Within seconds our joy turned to fear. I think it was at that moment that I realized how fragile a child was- I needed to he more careful, I could have hurt the baby brother that J loved so much. 1 could have lost my "job" and walking time alone with Peter. Peter recovered and the tears were wiped away, the stroller was re-positioned and we returned home ji-om our walk-Teresa all the wiser. I was just ten years old when I began to.feel that "mother" love. Peter taught me that nothing would be more wonderful than being a mother-and he was right!
Bob! Everything about Bob deserves a WOW! He entered this world with a WOW! His flaming red hair and very fair skin made you say WOWI They way he talked made you say WOWI His restlessness and wildness made you say WOW! What about Bob, WOW! I wonder if Mom and Dad crawled into bed after the end of one of our typical days and thought, phew- everyone safe, asleep, healthy, and hopefully happy thank you God! There were more photographs of the bottom ha!/ of the Ringwood clan and I suspect that had something to do with Pally's Kodak snapshots. Back then you received a regular size and smaller size of the selected photo. On sick days, Mom would settle us with blanket and pillow on the small couch in the den, provide us a ginger ale and saltine crackers (only after the St. Joseph aspirin) and then she would pull out the photo drawer and that would occupy our sick time with happy thoughts and memories until we drifted off to sleep. It seems as if my mind is filled with photograph memories of Bob - Wow!
Bob as a baby, toddler, young boy, and man ;s chronicled on Kodak paper. The evidence is all there. While he played outs;de he was tied to a tree-- but he was safe and within walking distance to the sand pile and swing set-- he looked happy! There is Bob in his sailor outfit complete with hat, arm draped around the shoulder of his older brother Peter! There are photos of Bob in uniform, baseball, basketball, cross country, track.What is Bob doing in that photo locked in a station wagon? Bobby, sound asleep, head on the tray of his high chair- -! think that he was tied in that also! There is a photo of Bob wearing Mike 's college graduation gown and hat- I think he was only five. School pictures of Bob, Bob and friends, Bobby and Irish, Father and baby son on the beach in Florida, Bob with all his brothers and Dad outside of Yankee Stadium- it was all there in photos. But there is one picture that is quite significant and that is the photo of Bob with all of his siblings on his college graduation day from SUNY Albany. With Bob and for Bob stood once again- Nancy, Michael, Patty, Tom, Jack, Teresa, Paul, David and Peter, we were all there for our youngest brother, Bob. We had been there for Bob all along, even though marriages, jobs, and children now consumed the majority of our days. We have always been there for each other. And so, the stories will continue ...any day now the newest Ringwood baby will make its entrance into this world We anxiously await the news of Bobby's first child and Mom's 28th grandchild- WOW/
To be continued...
Bernie
Our grandmother Bernie moved into our house on Owasco Street in the early 70's. It seemed to happen overnight, but I suspect that there were plenty of conversations between Mom, Dad, and Bernie. But what I recall is the excitement of it all! Suddenly our playroom and the " other kitchen" disappeared and transformed into Bernie 's apartment complete with new drapes, avocado painting, and shag carpeting. She had two large rooms (kitchen and dining room/ living room and bedroom) as well as her own bath. Bernie joined us for dinner every evening and often brought desert- on a good day it was blackberry pie, on a bad day it was rice pudding!
I loved Bernie and needed her in my life more than she probably ever realized I would like to think that Bernie needed me also. We often spent the evenings together, they were quiet evenings not filled with conversation- just company. We watched TV. and I imagine that she let me pick the shows. And most often the evening was topped off with a bottle of Coke and a little candy bar-how sweet and how innocent. l never asked Bernie for a Coke and 1 never asked/or a second little candy bar- that was not acceptable. If it was offered, accept graciously. I think that my brothers thought I hung out with Bernie just because of the probable snack-not true. I needed Bernie and I think that even at that young age, I knew that she needed me.
Serving Up Lessons of Life
I am pretty sure that 1 figured out who I was, at our dining room table. It was huge, it was busy, and it was filled with food and the people I loved. A great deal of my charmed childhood life was spent at this table, as if wrapped in a family hug with each and every meal. My weekly chores included dusting that table and setting the dinner table each evening. I also hid under that table eavesdropping on conversations or hiding from brothers. But it was at this table that a family of thirteen: parents, children, and grandmother, gave thanks to God for our bounty and blessings, shared and listened to stories, and learned so many important lessons of life. Teresa Ringwood (aka "TessyTrueheart” the daughter of Paul and Joan, the sixth child out of ten, a Christmas baby named after her maternal grandmother,and the youngest of the three girls.
My life is like an anthology of Ringwood tales. It is no wonder that I grew up destined to be drawn to words and stories; I could not imagine a life without! Fast forward to my independent adult life and behold--a librarian. I managed to carve a career that would keep me connected to words and stories. "A place for everything and everything in its place," interestingly I owe my inclinations towards structure and organization to my Ringwood childhood What many might consider a camp of chaos, in reality ; we were a devoted family made stronger by our whole! Life was predictable- be kind, give thanks, work hard, brush your teeth, and say your prayers. Issues were black and white with no room for fuzzy grey. We had chores and we had rules. There was a rhythm to our week, driven by the clock during the weekdays: school and work, practices and games, meals and bedtime, but the weekends were a time/or adventure!
Back to the dinner table... Imagine the delight when Dad would arrive home from work with what seemed to be numerous white boxes and bags from Roses Bakery, hooray!! A treat was in store for everyone and I don't just mean the "goodies" from the bakery. Dinner would be fun! It didn't matter what the main course was (or wasn't) dessert would be the best. And we all knew what was coming. After the dinner plates were cleared and the platter of baked good arrived at the table, placed directly in front of Dad, he would say, "Pick a number from 1-10." We would each select a number and the winner was the first to pick from the plate. But it got better; the winner could choose which direction to pass the plate. So, depending on the day, and who your current buddy was, those delicious baked goods went either left or right. Dad seemed to make random bakery purchases, a little of this and a little of that. You never knew what was going to be left once the plate made its way around the table. Half and half cookies were very popular- house rule- eat the white side first and save the chocolate for last! Dinnertime at the Ringwood house- it could be madness or magic!
I’M TELLING!
I'm somewhat embarrassed lo admit this truth, but I was a child tattler! I was committed to the rules of the game, the rules of the house, and the rules of life_! That's the way I wanted it and when those rules got twisted, I was known for saying, "I 'm telling" in a voice so powerful I was so confident Mom and/or Dad would set life back on its charted course! And then the impossible happened, I lost my battle for righteousness during a Monopoly game. As I recall it was Tom, Jack, and I gathered around the game board set up in the "boys" room. We were thick into the game, Jack was the banker (we knew we could trust him) property and utilities were quickly purchased and houses and hotels were everywhere! And suddenly, without even knowing what was happening, Tom and Jack teamed together (strategy, money, and property) to take me down! I was horrified I am sure I shouted something like, "that's not fair!"
I couldn't concentrate and I could not continue playing- I needed guidance on this issue and Mom was quickly called to dispense her counsel on this Monopoly mishap .And so, we went to court- Mom's court. We were instructed to present our cases. Was it indeed ''fair" for Tom and Jack to pool their resources together during the game? It would leave one player quite powerful and the other vulnerable. We spoke, and Mom listened, and then--she spoke. I am not sure what she said, but I clearly recall Tom and Jack jumping up and down cheering and laughing with great joy and satisfaction. I could not believe it- Mom sided with them, impossible! The game was over, it was not a surprise to my brothers when I shouted with tears in my eyes "I quit!" I left the room alone, defeated and disappointed. Tom and Jack happily remained behind already drumming up another game or activity to pass the time/
Life just got a little bit more complicated. As so I learned at a tender age that while rules help to guide us, we need not ALWAYS be guided by a rigid set of rules--be creative , be open-minded, try to view the world in a new light, and always, always, be respectful of others. It may seem at times that "Iife is not fair" but Iife is wonderful- it is what you make of it. Don't give up on others, especially those that you love, never on yourself- and don't be the quitter!
Survival Tips
I have no doubt that all families have their in-house rules. Some were the obvious as created by Mom and Dad; and the others were the really powerful ones,those created by siblings. I must admit that Mom had a powerful way of making her point. It could be the "look" or the words that she spoke, but more often than not is was what she didn't say to you. Nothing hurt worse than disappointing Mom; it was a clear reminder of how much hope and faith she had in you.
For any ache, pain, hurt or worry- Mom's suggestion : "Put a little cream on it and you will feel better."
Make sure to finish the box of cereal or one morning you will find that they have all been mixed together-ughhh!
Always have a "surprise" before you go to bed. "Nothing important is ever said after midnight."
"Can I be excused?" "I don't know, can you?" WHAT??? "
Inside work for the girls and outside work for the boys"
"One hoho and one poptart EACH"
A bottle of " pop" on Friday and Saturday only.
"Last one in tum off the lights and Jock the doors."
Seating around the TV was limited. And so. when one needed to leave the room, and you did not want to lose prime seating, it was simple, " Save my seat!"
Never hate a person, but you may hate the things that they do.
Beds made before you go outside and bikes in the garage at the end of the day.
Be home when the street lights come on.
Never cross Owasco Street alone and don't ever go down in the outlet!
..If you can' t say anything nice, don't say anything at all."
If you cannot control your hands---"sit on them!"
"No kids in the yard on Sunday."
Hand-me-downs are good, even if your brother's name is embroidered on the sweater.
No telephone use until after Dad had called home.
Mass before gifts on Christmas morning.
Just to be safe- lock the freezer.
Didn't everyone have a milkman and milk machine?
If you cut your birthday cake just right, you might just discover a quarter.
Two Christmas trees-one for the family gifts and one for Santa!