Tponetom Member Username: Tponetom
Post Number: 319 Registered: 06-2007
| Posted on Saturday, August 23, 2008 - 7:48 pm: | |
A few days ago I was reading some post or other and one of the ‘comments’ mentioned the book, “Hi_ _ _, Good-Bye Detroit!” It was written by Robert Beckwell. He published it himself in 1993. Digression: The following preamble comes from another post I made some time ago and I think it helps emphasize this story. As some of you may know, if you gave me a ‘word’ or a ‘phrase’ or a ‘situation,’ I can probably come up with three or four pages, all real, on the subject. Previously: (2008) During the past few years, I have been going back to the salad days of my adolescence. Those pre-pubescent days of innocence, idealism and poverty that kept us from forgetting who we were and where we came from. (I still clean my plate at the supper table.) I am an incurable romantic, not necessarily in the lurid or passionate way, but rather, in a gentle and continuing mode. There is romance in a flower, in a poem, in a song, and especially in an obscure memory, triggered by a simple word or phrase. At age seventy-nine, I have outlived most of my closest friends. Their passing casts a momentary pall over my mood. Then, the memory of our happy associations overwhelms that mood and smothers the gloom. I have suffered the angst of adolescence, the frustrations of the teen-age years, the awesome responsibilities of marriage and parenthood, the doubts of the later middle years and now the quivering reality of arthritis and all of the attendant frailties of what is euphemistically called, the "Golden Years." Senior Citizens: I dislike that term! Whimsically, I prefer the term, "O. P," meaning Old Persons! Old in the sense of a vintage wine or a work of art or of a kind and more tolerant world. Our generation lived in another world, separated by eons from the present world. My wife calls me silly, sentimental, senile, and sappy. She also calls me a name that ends with a double "ss." As usual, she is correct. And I adore her for it. She has been the love of my life for sixty three years. She can do no wrong. I have been happily married to her for fifty-nine years, come September 1. She has been happily married to me for maybe, seven or eight. If nothing else, I am irascible and therein lies my story. In the best-selling novel, "Angela's Ashes," Frank McCourt writes, “When I looked back on my childhood, I wonder how I managed to survive at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood. The happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood, is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.” I have to take great issue with that statement. I regard a Happy, Irish, Catholic childhood as a rare and treasured experience. It is something to revere. This is a story of how “everything that goes around, comes around.” Something like the “seven year itch,” but this is more like the 52 year itch. Stay with me, it gets better. Each of us, have painted a portrait of our lives with snippets and chips of associations with others, spontaneous circumstances, and serendipitous happenings. Some of those events lasted for a lifetime and others were of varying duration. My relationship with Bob Beckwell and the Beckwell family is of minuscule quantity. But the quality of that relationship bubbles over with charm. My pal Mike, and his family moved from St. Louis, Missouri to Detroit in 1935. They rented a house on Holcomb street next door to a Creamery Company. A couple of years later they bought a house on Cooper street, just a block from McClellan and E. Warren. The Beckwell family moved into the house on Holcomb, and there the story begins. Ed Beckwell was the older brother, Patty was in my grade at Nativity, Bob was two years younger than I and Charles was younger still. I think Annie (?) was the adolescent, blond headed charmer of maybe four or five. I never knew the other Beckwell girls. I think there were eight siblings. The supporting cast of characters would include: Gladys (Neighbor across the street,) Jean (Classmate of Pat.) Julia (Classmate of Pat) Freddy (Classmate of Pat and me.) Leroy (Classmate of Bob.) His family owned a grocery store on Belvidere and Chapin.) Hal (Classmate of Bob) Ermie (Classmate of Gladys) All of these people played a role. Pat, Gladys, Jean and Julie were the fem fatale’s. Freddy and I were the suitors. Hal was my best friend and later, best man at my wedding to Peggy. Ermie always had a soft spot for Gladys Starting in the middle of August, 1941, Freddy and I stalked the girls relentlessly. In those days, ‘stalking ‘ was a flattering exhibition of ‘puppy love.’ Bobby Beckwell, and his younger brother Chuck were the two, pain in the ass, nya, nya kids who mocked and teased us 13 year old ‘men.’ However, we couldn’t chastise them for doing it for fear of alienating the affections of the girls. Oh, those were the ‘giddy’ days.’ I remember taking two baths a week instead of just one. The reckless joy and abandonment lasted but three months. Then, contrary to the song, “Love Walked Right In,” it walked right out. Fast Forward to 1993. Peggy and I were visiting in Detroit and one of my pals mentioned this ‘book’ about Detroit. Written by Bob Beckwell. I managed to make a connection with Bob and told him I would like to see his Book. We agreed to meet at a bar, “Tudges Pub” on Mack near Nine Mile Road. (Check it out on the Internet.) Ermie and I got there early in the afternoon. We asked the bar tender about Bob and he pointed over to a fellow and said, “That’s Bob’s brother Ed.” We introduced ourselves to Ed and a few minutes later, Bob showed up. Then the bedlam of laughs, reminiscence, and old stories of girls and guys just erupted for three hours. It was difficult to get a word in edgewise. Ed was, in his words, an unpaid amateur Comedian and/or Master of Ceremonies, especially good at doing Eulogies. Ed was about four years older than me. We did not know one another in the old days. All the stories we told were about people that we all knew by reputation. Even as I type this, my eyes glisten, moisten if you will, remembering those days of OZ. Bob had brought a handful of his books. I read a couple of pages and then I told him I would take three of them. I wanted to send them to three pals living in Florida and Arizona. The book was not Pulitzer Prize material. Oprah would not want to list it on her weekly chart. However, if you lived through the days of the Thirties and Forties, you would treasure it. Most of it was of his early years living on Holcomb, three blocks or so from Nativity Church and School. Later the family moved (I think) near the Gratiot - McNichols area. Now here is the punch line about that book. I paid 21 dollars for the three books I bought. Four or Five days ago I accessed Amazon and looked for “Hi_ _ _ Good-Bye, Detroit.” There were about six used copies available. The first one was listed for 5 dollars. The second one was 17 dollars. The next one was 50 dollars and the last one was 200 dollars. That left me scratching my head? Today, August 23, Mountain Time 3:35, I just accessed Amazon again and it listed seven copies from 5 bucks to 75 dollars. ????????? That is the story of my life. Buy high and sell low. Note # 1: I often wondered what had happened to Patty. Last year, while perusing the Death Notices in the Detroit News, I discovered Bob’s obituary on June 6, 2007. It disclosed the ‘married ‘ name of Patty. I traced her married name through the archives and found her obituary in 2002. You can never escape the specter of melancholia. Note # 2. Through the years, a few people have asked me the question, “Why don’t you write a book about your early life?” My sincere and honest reply is, “Bobby Beckwell has already done that.” |
Maof2 Member Username: Maof2
Post Number: 345 Registered: 06-2008
| Posted on Saturday, August 23, 2008 - 8:16 pm: | |
T- I absolutely love you. Enough said. |
Eriedearie Member Username: Eriedearie
Post Number: 2836 Registered: 08-2007
| Posted on Saturday, August 23, 2008 - 8:37 pm: | |
Tp - another great story! But you know I'm your biggest fan! My best to you and Peggy always |
Maof2 Member Username: Maof2
Post Number: 346 Registered: 06-2008
| Posted on Saturday, August 23, 2008 - 9:05 pm: | |
t - p.s. I married at Nativity in 1993, my husband's family's church.My mom-in-law grew up on Holcomb... went by there a month or so ago, not too bad. |
Diane12163 Member Username: Diane12163
Post Number: 240 Registered: 07-2008
| Posted on Sunday, August 24, 2008 - 1:08 am: | |
Excellent story. You have the gift of the tale. We are blessed to be able to read them. Thank you T. |
Tponetom Member Username: Tponetom
Post Number: 320 Registered: 06-2007
| Posted on Sunday, August 24, 2008 - 7:48 pm: | |
Maof2: I was just going to say thank you for your nice comments. But, the world starts roller coasting around in incredible ways. I will assume that Father Singer (or his associate) married you to your husband in 1993. My brother, Tim, who still lives IN Detroit, is a good friend of Father Singer's and a long time parishioner of Nativity. If any of your husbands relatives date back to the Forties, on Holcomb, I just might know some of them. Those were the days of "NO" privacy fences and everybody either knew every one else or they knew "OF" everyone else. When I started a biography search on Father Singer, I accessed a Michigan Obituary site. I skimmed through it and found the name of Werner Dyke. In the Forties and through the Sixties, Werner was one of the premier handball players in the Detroit area. I used to take my lumps from him for about five years until I had enough experience, and he had added on a few more years of age, to the point where I no longer embarrassed myself in a match with him. |
Kathinozarks Member Username: Kathinozarks
Post Number: 1432 Registered: 11-2006
| Posted on Sunday, August 24, 2008 - 8:20 pm: | |
Tponetom, you are a gem. One in a million. |
Maof2 Member Username: Maof2
Post Number: 350 Registered: 06-2008
| Posted on Sunday, August 24, 2008 - 9:19 pm: | |
T - Fr. Singer did marry us! I do occasionally see him but unfortunately, it's at family funerals. The music person their was a woman named Wilma W. We had picked out a selection of songs and I had asked her if she new Ava Maria. She said she did not but on my wedding day when we went to the statue of the Blessed Mother, by God, she surprised me with the song! I will be forever grateful to her for learning the song in a matter of days both vocally and playing it on the piano. My mother-in-laws house was on the corner of Holcomb and Chapin (sp.). The house is now a parking lot. My husband's cousins are still parishioners at Nativity. I bet your brother does know some of them (it is a small parish)and I will run off a few names...Roz, Lenore, Marty, Dee, Analise with the latter 3 being brother and sisters. Marty, I believe, is a deacon at Nativity and also served at my wedding. The brother and sisters I mentioned come from a family of 7 and lived at the house on Holcomb with their parents(my mother-in-laws sister and her husband) and Grandma G. I believe they lived there in the 40's and thru sometime in the 60's. Whew! Anyway, should you talk to your brother soon, let me know if he's familiar with the names. Yes, it is a small world |
Ray1936 Member Username: Ray1936
Post Number: 3554 Registered: 01-2005
| Posted on Sunday, August 24, 2008 - 9:41 pm: | |
Another great story by TP. Only instead of calling myself "O.P.", I usually refer to myself as "O.F.". As in breaking wind. |
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