Now and Then

Hi, Dear Readers.  It’s great to be back.  Hope you had a wonderful holiday.  I sure did.

One of the reasons is right here…

The blurry photograph that graces (?) today’s post was probably taken circa 1962.  From left to right that’s Judy K., Ellen W. and yours truly, Ellen R.

AKA “The Girls in the ‘Hood.

Author’s Note:  Ouch, right? That middy blouse!  The babushka (very Queen Elizabeth II, I must say.)  Those bobby sox.  Not our finest hour.  I think Judy and Ellen would agree with me here.

We all grew up on the same block on the North Shore.  Ellen W. lived at 814.  Ellen R. lived right next door at 810,  Judy K. lived a few houses to the left of Ellen W at 824.

We were all the same age and we all went to the Avoca School.

We had started there in first grade and we finished – along with a class of 80 other kids- in eighth grade in 1963.

Then we three went on to New Trier- along with 1198 other freshmen.  And Judy and Ellen were no longer in my immediate social sphere.  I had made new friends from faraway places like Glencoe and Kenilworth and I didn’t hang out with the girls on the block any more.

They did the same.

Four years flew by, and in 1967, I graduated and Life took me down a road that wound from Madison, Wisconsin to New Orleans to Baltimore to Florence, Italy to Winnetka to Aspen and back to Chicago.

Ellen stayed mostly local and suburban.

Judy divides her time between Albany, the Boston area and Naples, Florida.

My path had crossed with Ellen’s in a chance meeting at Northbrook Court a couple of years ago.  Read all about it- and her-  in the post entitled “MTM.”

Ellen and Judy had stayed in touch over the years and had seen each other. But I hadn’t seen Judy since 1963.

Until last Sunday.

Judy was coming in for a great-aunt’s 100th birthday celebration.  I was scheduled to be in Boston meeting my new granddaughter over Memorial Day and wasn’t going to be able to catch up with the other two.  I was disappointed.  So were Ellen and Judy.

Then Fate contrived to bring us together.

Judy’s great aunt had a health scare that almost cancelled the party and her reason to come to Chicago.

Then Natasha had Caroline a week earlier than she had let on (she knew she was having a Caesarian section but she had cagily led me to believe that it was going to be the week after she actually was scheduled.  She didn’t want me worrying and on a “countdown” subconsciously.  This was a merciful move on her part.)

Then, happily, Judy’s great aunt recovered, I went to Boston the weekend before Memorial Day and thus it was that last Sunday, we three found ourselves at a Hampton Inn in Skokie laughing, crying a little and hugging a lot.

What can three former neighbors have to talk about after fifty-three years?

Everything.

We covered every topic from granddaughters- we each have one- to the time we caught Geoff Davenport alone on the Avoca playground and beat him up.

We discussed Girl Scouts Troop 110 and jump rope and bullying and Ernie Palmer’s Private Movie Row and who had the best collection of board games and, sadly, who from our little class had passed away.

We also discussed our mothers (who we all now physically resemble, heaven help us) and our brothers and sisters.

We laughed about all the awful amateur theatricals we put on for the neighborhood.  These little plays were terrible but that didn’t stop us from shamelessly charging admission to the poor locals whom we had press-ganged into coming to watch us.

(My mother would later mercifully go around and return everyone’s dime or quarter after she witnessed our utter chutzpah- and compete lack of talent.)

Judy only had an hour and a half to spare us before she had to leave for the birthday party. Before we could touch on the joys and pitfalls of Red Rover, Dodgeball and Tetherball, it was time to go.

More hugging ensued- along with sworn promises to stay in touch and do it all over again.

ATTENTION AVOCA KIDS CLASS OF 1963: Judy, Ellen and I are thinking an Avoca Reunion tied in next year’s New Trier Class of ’67 fiftieth Reunion.  If we can get thirty old grads to show up at Hackney’s, we think it will be super fun. Please contact me here.

Recipe: Take childhood friends, add old memories, mix in a ton of laughter, add a pinch of tears.  Let simmer fifty-three years and this is what you get…

Hope to see you at Hackneys in 2017, gang.

With love from 824, 814 and 810.

PS.  I’ll bring the jacks.