No Longer Amongst The Living

During my step-mom's recent visit, she bookmarked a web site for me where you can "find" people. She uses it a lot in her genealogy work. I guess I should have realized that the people it finds are dead people (given that genealogy usually centers around ancestors) BUT, I didn't realize it until I went to go check it out. I was thinking it might be a source to track down folks I haven't seen or heard from in a long time, but, unless I plan on having a seance, I doubt I'll be talking (hopefully not anytime soon) to any of the people I find using this resource!

All kidding aside, I decided to test the site by putting in "older" people I used to know that could now be dead. First I put in my former mother-in-law; it appears she is still amongst the living. Next, I put in my former father-in-law, and, well, the site works. He's NO longer amongst the living. Apparently, he passed away September 14th, 2007.

It's sort of weird to discover that a person you used to know is now dead. Mr. B said, "If it's freaking you out, stop searching for people!" He's right, unless I really am wanting to track someone down (and make sure they are still alive so I can actually do so), it's probably not a good idea to jump on this sight and discover a bunch of people you knew are now dead.

But, anyway, I was a bit sad last night. My former father-in-law had a tough life. Yeah, he was an odd-duck and a terrible father (in my opinion; for example, he forced my ex husband to quit school at age 16 so he could put him to work) and a rotten husband and, in general, most people didn't like being around him because he was so weird (the man wore a skirt and dug around in trash bins) BUT, he had a very rough childhood and so, I guess, the way he turned out isn't terribly surprising. I just wish he'd been able to "get over it"; I doubt he ever did, though. He was like a broken record when I knew him; always bemoaning his awful childhood and how, "if only, if only", etc.

What was so awful? Well, he grew up in Buffalo, NY, for one! And, his mother and father were dirt poor. So poor that, when he was 8 or 9 (right at the on-set of WWII), he and two of his brothers were taken to an orphanage and left there because his parents could no longer afford to keep them (sort of like what is going on in Omaha Nebraska these days, except at that point in time, it was not really "legal" to do what they did). His parents kept their daughter so that she could tend to the baby (that they also kept).

So, Charles and his older brother Bob and one of his younger brothers (can't remember his name) were dumped at a Catholic orphanage run by Polish nuns where, given the fact that they were German, they were not treated terribly well. He told stories of being repeatably beaten and humiliated by the nuns. And, the fact that they actually had parents (who just didn't want them) meant those that were actual orphans scorned them as well.

At some point in time his parents must have come and collected them back; this part is sketchy.

So, Charles grew up; was smart enough and musically inclined enough that he ended up receiving a Masters in Music. And, he was a talented pianist (if you could get him to focus; one of his later jobs in life was to play the piano at Nordstrom's but I believe he ultimately got fired; probably for trying to get away with wearing his skirt with his tuxedo jacket!) Somewhere along the line he met and married my former mother-in-law (who went to Ithaca College (where Mr. B eventually graduated from; what a small world)). I always wondered why the very practical and no-nonsense Shirley married Charles; I can only surmise that his true "oddness" had not yet onset. Also, he was an incredibly handsome man (at one point) and Shirley, bless her heart, was extremely plain. Maybe she couldn't believe her luck, to snare such a prize? Hard to say, but, I am sure she came to regret it.

They had four children; three sons and one daughter; John, my ex husband, being the 2nd oldest. They had them in quick succession; the age spread between oldest to the youngest being a mere 5 or 6 years. When John was two, they moved to Oahu Hawaii where life was really no paradise for "Howlies" (what the natives called white people). He said he spent his entire school years there running away from the very big kids who wanted to beat him up. Sometimes he made it, sometime he didn't. He also told me he didn't wear shoes for 14 years (as was the custom, not because they couldn't afford them).

Well, anyway, Charles and Shirley moved back to the mainland, Arizona, this time. They bought and managed two mom and pop motor inns. Eventually, they split up with Charles taking the oldest two boys and Shirley taking the two younger children. Charles, Michael and John moved to the valley in California; Shirley, Suzi and Tom stayed in Arizona.

This was about the time when Charles pulled John (for some reason not Michael) out of school and forced him to work for a living. Although John later had resentment about this, he said at the time he was perfectly happy with the arrangement. I guess it served him in some good stead as from this he learned to fix just about anything.

Fast forward several years; I met John and eventually met his dad. John warned me to be prepared for how odd his dad was. "Like what?", said I. "Well, like the fact he wears a skirt and digs through trash", replied John.

And, yes, he DID wear skirt. And, not a kilt, either. I mean a woman's skirt. He'd pair it with a man's polo shirt or long-sleeved shirt, tube socks and tennis shoes. Yes, he was very stylish. His reasoning for wearing a skirt? "Women can wear men's clothes (meaning slacks), how come a man can't wear women's clothing? Frankly, a skirt is more comfortable, anyway". As weird as this was, he did have somewhat of a point.

My ex John, me, Michael, a very young Nigel, and Charles (wearing his skirt!) in 1991

Although he had sufficient income to rent a decent apartment, the man preferred to live in squalor. I hated having to go visit him because his abode made the dude's (Red Foxx) from "Sampson and Son" look like Windsor Castle.

It took me a while, too, to get used to him bringing me gifts of trash. Yes, seriously. We'd invite him over for dinner and he'd come bearing whatever goodies he'd dug out of the trash that day. Sometimes it was jars of unopened spaghetti sauce. One time it was a case of Coors beer (well past its expiration date). He didn't forget Nigel and Clyde, either; once he brought them a case of wet cat food. I learned to smile graciously, take the items, put them aside, and throw them away after he left.

The two of us only had one real run-in and that was one of the first times we had him over for dinner. After finishing his plate, he pushed it at me and said, "More!" I just looked at him, eyebrow archly raised. John said, "Dad, get it yourself". He never did that again.

Charles played the piano at our wedding. Because he couldn't get used to sitting on the little round stool my parents had, he went out and bought his own piano bench, which he left with my mom because he said he had no real use for it. He also left the music he played inside the bench. I think my mom carted that bench around for years and years before she finally gave it away (after asking me if I thought Charles would mind; well, I guess he wouldn't mind now!) So, yeah, he played at our wedding and did a good enough job of it; I have him on video showing off for the camera. However, he started playing the wedding march "Here Comes the Bride" a bit too early; I was sitting on the toilet when I heard the early refrains!

So, it turns out I have a lot of memories of Charles! And, I sure hope that, wherever he is now, he's at peace.

And that he can wear his skirt without prejudice, dig through trash to his heart's content, and play the piano all day long.

Mrs. B