Another piece of the ongoing Saga of the Tale of Dishonest Bob from NYC

The years flew quickly and before I knew it I had become a young woman.   Throughout these same years my dearly beloved Grandpa O’Donnell was starting to show his age.    Nonetheless, we both still loved to “go up to the country” and would jump at any excuse or opportunity to get there.

It just so happened that in late December 1969, I pick up a guy named Bob at a place called Pep McGuire’s on Queens Blvd.   Honestly, I had actually met Bob a month earlier (the night before Thanksgiving) when I was briefly introduced to him at another pick-up dance hall/bar establishment, The Desert Inn, on the Van Wyck Expressway – the highway that leads to the Whitestone Bridge and the wonderful borough of the Bronx.   But that is another story - in and of itself -and I will tell that particular, “How I Met my Husband Story” some other day.

My new boyfriend, Bob, had recently graduated from SUNY Buffalo; therefore he was familiar with upstate roadways and the drive from Buffalo, NY to Astoria, Queens.   Oftentimes, he passed right through the Binghamton, NY area on his way to and from school.   Since Bob was a sport and seemed to enjoy all kinds of adventures and motor trips, when he heard how much my Grandpa, my Aunt Anne and I loved to go to the Binghamton area and the surrounding countryside, he offered to be our chauffeur.   This was like a dream come true for me – a boyfriend who didn’t mind driving me and my Grandpa and my Aunt Anne to the country.    This made it oh so easy for me to fall in love.

On the first of several such excursions “up to the country”, the plan was for all four of us to stay with my Aunt’s first cousin, Nonie, and her husband Greydon and their family.   I don’t know who planned this arrangement but I know it wasn’t Bob or me.  Nonetheless, it sounded like great fun and the price was right, so we willingly trailed along.   When we arrived on the west side of Binghamton, we march into the lovely Ellison home on LeRoy Street.   As typical, we followed directly behind our fearless Leader, TJ, and immediately made ourselves right at home.    Once again, we had some hell of a nerve, wouldn’t you say – four overnight guests for God knows how many night!     Just to make the picture a little clearer for you, Nonie was TJ’s deceased wife’s (nee’ Margaret Coleman) niece – not even a blood relative of TJ’s.    No matter - we where there, and ready for a good time.