Category - Stories

My husband, Rick, was in the Air Force when we got married. We lived in California on Edwards Air Force Base for about three and a half years. We were 19 years old and didn’t have many material possessions but had each other and had fun just the same. Our first son, Mike, was born a year after we married. Mike brought us much joy and grew both of us up quickly. After our time in California we came back to this area again and settled in Troy. My brother, Walt, was going to Hudson Valley Community College at that time and lived with us for about a year. One day he came home and announced that he had become a born again Christian and was attending Pineview Community Church. We thought that...

There is a seemingly endless list of the joys of home-ownership, particularly when it comes to owning an older house.  Our first home was built about 30 years before we acquired it.  Those delights include electricity and plumbing, amid a medley of other issues.  If you’re old enough, you may remember glass fuses.  We had the usual assortment of modern appliances like a clothes washer, electric dryer, electric water heater and a dishwasher.  All of which drew far more amperage than their ancestors that were around when the house was built. We learned quickly that you could only run two devices at a time or you were swapping out fuses every time someone used the toaster. The house...

“Back at home a young wife waits Her Green Beret has met his fate He has died for those oppressed Leaving her this last request” Put silver wings on my son’s chest Make him one of America’s best He’ll be a man they’ll test one day Have him win the Green Beret” When SSGT Barry Sadler released his song in 1966, American found itself at war in South East Asia.  The lyrics were written in honor of Green Beret US Army Specialist 5 James Gabriel, Jr., the first native Hawaiian to die in Vietnam, who was killed by Viet Cong gunfire while on a training mission on April 8, 1962. One verse mentioned Gabriel by name, but it wasn’t included in the...

We were living in our small apartment in Rosamond, California while we waited for housing to become available on the Air Force Base where we were stationed.  Autumn plodded along bringing with it the cooler winds that poured off the eastern side of the Antelope Valley mountains.  It certainly felt uneventful as there were only the two of us at the table that Thursday afternoon in late November.  Thankful that we had a place to live and that we were together, all the while thinking of our families who must have been enjoying the holiday back in New York. At the bottom of a stack of pans in our kitchen today, rests the 14″ black-speckled porcelain-enameled roasting pan that we had...

“Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short.” Thoreau. With Tech School at Ft. Lee, Va. almost complete, we set out sights on our new duty station in California.  The papers for a 30 day leave in my pocket, we began to get ready to spend some time in New York, visiting family and friends.  The Rambler didn’t look like it would make the trip to Albany, and surely would not make the West Coast.  We spotted a used car ad on television for a Barracuda that was in our price range.  Saturday morning we headed for Richmond to check it out.  A cool, October rain was tapping the convertible roof when we arrived at the dealership.  I found...

My Great Grandmother was born in Quebec, Canada in 1880.  She had seen a lot in her lifetime.  Born only 15 years after the Civil War, she witnessed two World Wars, Korea and Vietnam, the onset of the automobile and the beginnings of space travel before her passing in 1967.  Home was a houseboat on the Hudson River between New Jersey and Manhattan during the 1920s where she lived with her husband, daughter and granddaughters (my mother and her sister), along with an assortment of other family members.  Later, they bought a farm in East Postenkill where they would raise a very, very extended family.  Moving from there once the house was free of kids and sundry guests, her and Grandpa...

It was a typical Upstate New York day in early spring for most people getting out of bed that March morning, .  The sun poked through my bedroom window on the second floor of my parents cozy little cape out on Spring Avenue.  I stumbled my way downstairs to the familiar smell of bacon frying as my dad was cooking his usual breakfast for him and me.  Dad did not take sick-days during his career at Behr Manning in Watervliet.  Nor, did he take “personal time”.  In fact, he did not take any time off, other than his scheduled vacations.  Two weeks during the shutdown in July and August and another week or two over Thanksgiving to hunt deer.  That day would be the only...

We arrived a few hours before the ceremony to be sure everything was in place.  I scattered a few bottles of water along the front pew for the bridal party.  Our son Jim and his soon-to-be bride Paula, were preparing to tie the knot on what seemed like the hottest July day in the history of the world.  We were sweating through our three-piece tuxedos as we jammed ourselves into the sanctuary.  The place was packed out as we felt the excitement that only a wedding can bring. The music began as the guests entered and, after the usual preliminaries, the wedding attendees began to do some singing as a prelude the main event.  The hymnals began their leafy noises as the congregation coughed...