Thoughts on my 48th Wedding Anniversary

 

I was sitting on the back porch having a rather modest Anniversary dinner with Bob when I said to him, “Isn’t it amazing to think that we have lived together for all these years in probably the most intimate relationship that any two human beings can have, and yet for the first 24 years of my life I didn’t even know you existed.” That is such a simple fact but, tonight for some reason, it seemed so unbelievable.  We talked about the fact that the night we first laid eyes on each other, we were at a place called “The Desert Inn” ( it was alongside the Van Wyck Expressway in Queens, NY ). The Desert Inn was basically a bar/dance place that young people frequented - the slang terminology used to describe such a place back in the 1960’s was “a pick up joint”.   Until tonight I always thought that it was probably one of Bob’s usual hangouts.  He said he rarely, if ever went there.  Surprisingly, I rarely, if ever went there either.  But for some reason, the night before Thanksgiving in 1969 we both happened to go. Bob was there with his friends and I was there alone, waiting to meet up with friends. I drove my own car that Wednesday night because I was scheduled to work in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit at Downstate Medical Center on Thanksgiving day, and I didn’t want to stay out too late.  I spoke to Bob that night but our conversation was rather brief as shortly after arriving at The Desert Inn, his friend, Walter, had come over to me as I stood on the edge of the dance floor, bought me a drink and asked me to dance.  When Bob was introduced to me and started a conversation, Walter basically “grabbed my hand and pulled me away” at the same time saying to Bob, “ what is this, an interview?” ( LOL Bob was always a good interviewer!!) 

I went out just once with Walter but believe me, once was more than enough.  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that “he was not my person “. 

I remember feeling badly that I hadn’t gotten to spend more time with the other guy, Bob.  Seems like men had more power in this regard. Anyway, I figured I wouldn’t find him again in a city with over 8 million people. 

One month later, in late December 1969, my friend, Gail, coaxed me into going to another hangout called “Pep McGuires” on Queens Blvd in Flushing, NY.  It was not my “cup of tea” but I consented to go for an hour.  Bob was standing there on the other side of that big square bar and I boldly walked right up to him and said, “Do you remember me?” 

So this is how a complete stranger became my most intimate human being.  

I just think life is interesting and amazing, don’t you? 

The Decker Brothers - Summarization Part 2

The Decker Brothers - Summarization, Part 2 

Sharon and I left Amos Northrup, our Revolutionary War Ancestor, in Stevensville, PA and started driving through the countryside. We didn’t have much of a plan but eventually ended up in a town that looked vaguely familiar to me.  We stopped briefly at a store in the town, LeRaysville, PA, and it occurred to me that this might be the town where one of my Aunt Norene Coleman Purtell’s sons, Jack Purtell, owned a car dealership.  Years ago, my husband and I drove there with my Aunt Norene ( who was, by the way, one of the nicest human beings I have ever had the privilege of knowing ) and we stopped and had some coffee and cake at Jack’s home.   I think we were looking for a new car at the time, but I can’t remember the details. I simply remember we enjoyed being with Aunt Norene and visiting with her son. 

After a meandering, aimless ride through the countryside, we eventually decided to head towards a Home Goods store in Vestal NY, a place we had discovered on one of our previous nostalgia adventures.  The last time we were there we loaded our vehicle with all the great treasures we found; this time we didn’t get too much. We’re aware that we’re older now and should be discarding rather than accumulating.  We also get tired faster,  and after a little bit of shopping, we decided it was time to head back home to Albany. 

Although Sharon might not believe me, I had every intention of heading straight for home, but when I noticed the sign for Afton, this thought occurred to me: “ We met Golden for lunch, we stopped at Hamden Cemetery so I could pay my last respects to my 16 year old sweetheart” Lyle, and here we are passing Afton, Stanley’s final resting place.” It  seemed to me that we just had to stop to say Goodbye.  Besides, I needed gas for my car and felt like a cup of coffee ☕️ would help waken me for the two hour ride ahead of us.  I was sure Sharon would balk at the idea but I just had to ask! I was surprised when Sharon said something like this, “ Well, I know you won’t be satisfied unless we stop”.  Before Sharon could change her mind, and because the Afton exit was right in front of us, I quickly turned off Route 88.   Previously Golden had mentioned that Stanley was buried in the Afton Cemetery and I, still imagining that Afton is a tiny little country place, assumed there would be one little, easy- to-navigate country cemetery in Afton. We

stopped at the Sunoco Station on the right side of the main road.  We filled the car with gas, used the restroom, got two caffeinated coffees ( which is a rare occurrence for me anytime after breakfast but I really needed a boost ) and asked the woman at the Sunoco Store counter where the Afton Cemetery was located.  She seemed like she didn’t want to be bothered and wasn’t too interested in my inquiry.   Without looking up from her task at hand, she said, “there are three cemeteries in Afton, which one do you want?”  I said that possibly she might have known the guy I was looking for, his name was Stanley Decker, and he had lived in Afton before he died.  She looked up at me then, as if to see more clearly who it was that was bothering her with such a stupid inquiry. Her face spoke volumes nonverbally, and what I read on it was this, “ Listen Lady, how do you expect me to know some guy you use to know simply because he lived in Afton.  Can’t you see I’m busy!” 

Feeling chastised and a bit embarrassed,  I went back out to the car where Sharon was sitting in a parking spot to the left of the gas pumps. I got into the driver’s seat and announced out loud to myself as much as to Sharon, “I should call Golden and see if he could tell me which of the three cemeteries held Stanley.”  After all, we were so close, so why not see this endeavor to completion.   Golden’s wife answered and I asked if Golden was available to come to the phone. At this point, I’m feeling a bit intrusive and imagining that Golden’s wife must be a bit annoyed after receiving several phone calls from “ an unknown female from his past”.   I step out of the car to get better reception on my cell phone and tell Golden we are now in Afton and looking for Stanley.  He says, “”where exactly are you in Afton?” and when I tell him we are at the Sunoco Station on the main drag, he says, “ just walk a few feet and ring the bell to the house next to the gas station, because that where Stanley’s wife lives. He assured me that she would be glad to direct us to the cemetery.  When I recover from the shock of being brought by some magical force directly to the home of Mrs. Stanley Decker, I tell Golden, “ I’m embarrassed; I can’t possibly do that!” “She’ll think I am some crazy old lady who is out of her mind.” Golden says, “keep me on the phone and bring me to the door with you and I’ll introduce you. “ Rattled by this “twilight zone” turn of events, and with the continued support and encouragement of Stanley’s big brother, Golden, I walk those few steps and ring the doorbell.