(In other words, one of the many ways I earned my crazy)
It is so mind boggling how this chapter of my childhood happened. Still a bit hazy about it but here we go hold on to your hats.
When I was around 2 and 3 my family of origin imploded. The details of that chapter will be told at another time. Started with my grandpa passing away and apparently, he was the glue that held us together then next my father and sister lived elsewhere, and it was just me, Mom and my teenage brothers in our Dutch colonial home with 2 ½ baths and four bedrooms and a den that could also serve as a bedroom. We inherited the home from great Aunts and Uncles (well at least ½) Thank You Great Uncle Paul and Great Uncle Frank your frugal ways were appreciated.
My grandma aka Gammy helped us out financially. Her house was so pretty, and the neighborhood was swanky. She was a retired English teacher and was quick to remind us of as she corrected our grammar and could recite beautiful classical poetry. I remember her sending over her maids to clean and a gardener. The judge lived next door and Uncle Walter (by marriage) was a congressman. It was a genteel life mixed with sooo much vodka.
As far back as I can remember we always went to her house first thing in the morning. She would tell me what all the flowers were called and what bird was singing our song. So genteel. But one day and I truly do not understand how this happened my beautiful artistic alcoholic mother brought home a guy. This one was unique. And he turned my life upside down. He was a con artist. Proceeded to con my mother and grandmother out of some money and moved into our couch. Yes, our couch. See where I spoke of our home that we inherited it had 4 bedrooms and. den he could have slept on but no he slept on the couch. I don’t understand it.
So much fun having friends over to play with him on the couch. So not embarrassing at all.
But wait there’s more. He was short and had a belly that entered the room before him. For the life of me I can’t understand how it happened he came to be in our lives, but a clue might be my mom was a single mom and probably terrified. I came to that realization after I became a single mom and became terrified. During my career choices in school single parenting was not one of my options at all.
Now on the days when I could go home from Gammy’s house (yes that is what I called her) I could go out and play with my friends in the neighborhood. However, so many days were spent going to bars with George so he could make deals. Lovely places. Amvets, VFWs and dives. Keep in mind this is the 70’s so drinking, driving and smoking with a child in tow was not illegal. I remember one bar going up to the bar and sitting next to a long-haired gentleman and chatting him up. (Because I am sure a blond girl was what he went to talk to. Just ignore the mom sitting on the other side that she is only 4.) Anyways, I had no fear of strangers except the creepy ones and proceeded to ask him “Are you a hippy or a biker?” I remember the look on my mom’s face. She was doing her best not to laugh and be appalled all at the same time. The guy was super sweet about it and clearly said a biker.
So, the reason I know he conned my grandma and mom out of money was the battles in the middle of the night. You would think all that drinking would knock them out but no. There were battles to be waged and my mom did not quit until the wee hours of the morning. She gave him the money to save him from “men he borrowed money from.” I was a child and did not make any connections.
Another clue he may have been involved with unsavory characters came when I got my first 10 speed bike. Yes, that is right I got a 10-speed bike and get this it was a gorgeous light blue that matched my eyes. Soooo amazing. Only problem was we had to get up extra early and drive to the shop before it opened to pick it up. Hmmm hot much? I loved that bike and rode it everywhere. I loved it so much I left it in the front yard and get was stolen. So the hot bike I loved so much got stolen. In hindsight it does seem apropos.
Oh, but wait another clue might have been when he went to jail for a year or so. It was for embezzling or something. Not sure of the details because I was still in elementary school. It did hit the front page though. All I remember is it had to do with a bingo hall that I would clean on Saturday mornings, and I would get in the cabinet and grab the snickers. Yes, I did! He would tell me no don’t do that, but did I listen no I did not. I am sure that had nothing to do with him going to jail. No nothing at all.
Please keep in mind while this was going on Mom would drive me to church every Sunday and drop me off. All by myself I would walk into this large, beautiful Westminster Presbyterian church and go to Sunday school and have fun. It did become my safe place. Our church leaders were amazing and wonderful, especially our youth group leaders. They were the reason I taught Sunday school for 30 years.
So, when George left for his sentence, I got a huge sigh of relief from Mom and George fighting and all that jazz. However, when he got out you would think my mom would have had enough. Oh no you would be wrong. He came right back to that couch and moved right back in.
Also, you would think jail time would have changed him. Again, you would be sooo wrong.
Another clue he may be related to a unsavory element was when I would take messages for him at home, and they were… let’s say not nice. Being the teen that I was at that time I was not afraid, I became indignant with the callers. Reminding them of my 15-year-old age and I did not care if he owed them money. That was a blast!
Even more endearing was that those calls got followed up with not a nice guy throwing Molotov cocktails at our home.
The first time (yes first time) I was home in bed, and I saw this blaze go past my bedroom window. At first, I thought it was fireworks but then the bushes might have been on fire, not sure. I don’t remember I was just a teen, and it was his problem not mine.
The second time happened when I was visiting my brothers in New York City and was having the best time! So much fun for a kid from Akron to spend a week in NYC with her big brothers. Even more fun is I got to spend an additional week there because the house got firebombed again and it was not safe for me to return. CAN YOU IMAGINE NYC BEING SAFER FOR ME THAN AKRON OHIO?
It was not all firebombs and letters from prison. There were some advantages to having him in our lives. My friends all remember him with laughter. He drove us to haunted houses, bought us dinner out, gave out jobs, and money. Made sure I had memorable birthday parties and was a primary cook in my home.
It does not occur to me he may have been in involved with a criminal element until almost 30 years later. I am at a work gathering where they served Lebanese food. I exclaimed oh I know all about Lebanese food from George George (that was not a error that was his name George George.) One of my co-workers asked me if George had been related to Georgette (of course that was her name) and I said his sister was a Georgette and owned property up at Lake Erie and we would stay with her. Well, Georgette (she really was a wonderful person, and I loved visiting with her. She was an amazing cook! Complete polar opposite of her brother.) was my co-worker’s grandmother, and he immediately asked me if it was true his great Uncle George was in a southside gang of sorts. George being in the network of criminals is part of his family lore. I went home and thought about it and hmmm…. Maybe, I did live with the mob. Who knew? Can I put that on my resume?
The last time I saw George he was in the hospital, and I knew he was about to go to the big couch in the sky. He had watched me grow up from a wee one of 4 to a young woman of 22. I knew he loved me, but I was surprised as the tears ran down my face that I loved him too.
He had conned me as well.
Now you know one of the plethora of reasons why I run!
