Tommy, my ten-year-old brother, has a girlfriend.
He's far too young, of course, and I would heartily disapprove of such a thing except the rest of my siblings neglect to tell me. In fact, I'm in the dark about quite a lot now that my younger brothers and sisters have all moved to Omaha. Dad, working ten hours a day at the dairy, is oblivious as well and only relieved that Tommy's made a friend. What Dad doesn't know, my younger sisters figure, can't hurt him. And anyway, Tommy's girlfriend Stacy is hardly a real girlfriend. More than anything, my sisters agree, she's a little girl who enjoys her power.
"Somebody needs to boss Tommy around," Carry shrugs.
Stacy is the tall, beautiful daughter of the African American couple down the street. Growing up in Grand Island, my siblings have never been acquainted with anyone who's African American. In the new Omaha neighborhood, however, their friends include not only Stacy but also several kids who are Jewish, one girl who is disabled and held upright with a sturdy back brace, and a pleasant 12-year-old boy named Jeff who wears makeup and loves fashion trends. Our huge Catholic family - the kids without a mother - only serve to add a little more diversity to the already eclectic neighborhood.
Jeff and Carry hit it off right away, and soon Carry, nearly 12, confides all her secrets - mostly because she thinks her new friend is a girl.
"His name is Jeff," my sister Terri breaks the news. "You DO know he's a boy, right?"
Shocked to the core, Carry takes time to digest this information. Soon, though, she resumes her friendship with Jeff taking particular care to call him by his correct name and listening closely to his instructions for applying a tricky eye liner. He becomes her best friend in the new neighborhood.
Meanwhile, my shy and innocent little brother Tommy meets Stacy at school. Loud and exuberant, Stacy dominates St. Robert's fifth grade class and, recognizing Tommy from the neighborhood, immediately claims him as her own.
"This year," she looks him up and down appraisingly, "you're gonna be my man."
Tommy blinks. He is both fascinated and afraid of this beautiful girl.
"Okay," he agrees uncertainly.
Stacy invites herself to dinner to see if she approves of her new man's family. Taking charge of the table conversation, she orders Tommy around and offers her blunt critique of the spaghetti dinner. She pauses, however, in mid diatribe to stare at Terri who's relishing with particular fervor the large helping of spaghetti in her mouth.
"Damn!" Stacy crows. "Look at those jaws move!"
Even Dad is a little frightened. "Who is this girl?" he whispers to Mary behind his hand.
Tommy, however, gazes adoringly at his beautiful new girlfriend and believes himself to be the luckiest boy in the world. But in the coming weeks, Stacy's orchestration of his every move wears thin. One night at the skating rink, he politely informs Stacy that he wants to break up.
"Break up!" She shrieks the words over the laughter and chatter of other skaters and lets loose with a string of expletives. Tommy's face burns with embarrassment. "You're my man," she pokes a finger painfully into his chest, "for as long as I say you're my man."
She skates off in a huff.
The truth is, Tommy has too many worries to juggle a bossy girlfriend. The move to Omaha has been traumatic for him and all my siblings.
Debbie, who's only just graduated from high school, accompanies the family to Omaha to help out. Dad purchases a much used Chevy Nova which Debbie uses to deliver Mary, Terri, Carry, Tommy and Jeff to school. Deb has never driven in Omaha, and the harrowing morning traffic intimidates her. She and Mary, however, attempt a dry run the day before school starts until Deb feels confident.
The next morning after Dad leaves for work and wishes all my brothers and sisters good luck, Deb herds everybody out to the Nova only to discover she's locked the keys in the house.
"Debbie!" my panic stricken sisters wail. In the end, it seems there's nothing to do but camp out on the front lawn all day until Dad returns home from work that evening. But missing the first day at their new schools unnerves my siblings, especially Mary and Terri.
"Why did we have to move here?" Terri agonizes. Mom would have known what to do. They ache for her and Grand Island and their old schools and for all that is comfortingly familiar.
Terri's already taken great pains to study the St. Robert's catalog to make sure she's wearing the school uniform exactly the way every other girl wears it. At 13, she's particularly nervous about fitting in at her new school. But the next morning, after Dad decides to escort the little kids to their second first day of school himself, Terri bursts into tears. Wearing her knee length uniform skirt and long socks, she's horrified to discover every other girl in her new school boasts a mid-thigh skirt and bobby socks.
"Dad!" she bursts into tears. "I look all wrong!"
As far as Dad can see, Terri's dressed exactly the same as all the other hundreds of other little girls chatting self-consciously at their lockers. But Terri's desperation is heartbreaking.
"Hey, hey!" he grabs her close. "I promise - after school we'll go to Target and get it right!"
Terri has another major concern entering her eighth grade year. She's started her period. Mom isn't here any more, and she's desperate to tell Dad. But she doesn't know how.
"Dad," she hesitates before concluding at a gallop. "I guess I've become a woman!"
It takes a moment for Dad to understand. "Terri," he hugs her. Mom's always handled the girl stuff. "Congratulations," he awkwardly pats her back. "We'll get whatever you need for that at the store, too," he reddens.
The move to Omaha is a struggle for everybody. My sister Mary's sole passion is athletics. To discover she's too late to try out for the Marian volleyball team is a terrible blow. On top of that, she's gone from her intimate Grand Island Central Catholic class of 50 kids to 300 in this all girls' school without any outlet or activity to help her make friends.
Jeff, in the third grade, struggles more than anybody. Dad believes it's critical right now that Jeff be as close as possible to his brother and sisters at St. Robert's. Jeff, however, has always received help for his disability and misses his gifted special ed teachers back at Grand Island Public. He falls further and further behind, but he's hardly the only one. Tommy and Carry are baffled as well. The terrible combination of Mom's death, leaving their home, and starting at a brand new school is too much.
As their school work suffers, teachers send their failing papers home with them. Dad's required to look at their school work, sign his name, and send it back. My brothers and sisters, however, make sure Dad never sees anything. Carefully, they forge his signature on every paper. It'll be weeks before teachers figure it out and inform Dad with a phone call.
In the meantime, Carry gets into trouble in the school cafeteria when she inserts a drinking straw through the middle of a hot dog wiener from one end to the other. Then she pours milk through the straw.
"Look!" she giggles at her lunch table. "The wiener's peeing!" The kids laugh so raucously that the teacher is alerted and immediately yanks Carry to the office.
Dad's shocked to discover his kids are forging his name, and he grounds Carry for the cafeteria incident. One afternoon at the kitchen table he sighs heavily and drops his face into his hands. Dad's lost his wife, he's raising ten kids alone, and his business has transferred him to another city with the order to resurrect a sinking dairy. My sister Mary sits across from my exhausted father and realizes not only that he's enormously overwhelmed but that my little brothers and sisters are in trouble.
Every night she prays and cries in her bed. "Dear God," she whispers earnestly in the dark, "you've got to get us back to Grand Island! Please help us, Mom."
Help comes, but not in the way Mary hopes.
One evening as Debbie and Mary prepare dinner, they hear Dad drive into the garage. Strangely, he doesn't stride through the door grinning and sniffing the good smells of food in the air like he usually does.
Puzzled, they glance through the window and are shocked to see our giant of a father sitting on the steps by the door, hands hanging between his knees, crying his eyes out. By this time, all my brothers and sisters are rooted at the window staring at Dad. Never in their lives have they seen him weep like this. Even when Mom died, he wept softly and silently. Now, unaware of all of them watching from the window, Dad's big, broad shoulders heave in great, helpless sobs.
Frightened, Deb, Mary, Terri, Carry, Tommy and Jeff turn away and wait for him to pull himself together. It would horrify him to know they've seen him like this.
After a long time, he finally enters the house composed and dignified.
"Hi Dad," they try to greet him naturally.
"Kids," he says wearily. "Sit down. I need to talk to you."
The dairy, he tells them at last, has been bought out by another company who's decided to clean house. He and all his employees can no longer work there. He's out of a job.
"Don't worry," he tries to reassure them. "We'll figure this out."
Mary's heart breaks for Dad, but my 16-year-old sister understands her prayers have been answered. There is no doubt in her mind they will all return to Grand Island.
And they do.
After weeks of job searching and terrible worry, Dad buys into a Grand Island travel agency - First Holiday Tour and Travel - which my brother Mick still owns and operates today. They all move back into the house on West Capital Avenue, and my brothers and sisters return to their old schools.
My brothers Joe, Mick and Rick, in college or working in Grand Island, are overjoyed to have our youngest siblings back. I'm overjoyed to teach my little sisters at Central Catholic again. Dad's overjoyed to manage his own business and to see his children thriving and happy again.
And Tommy's overjoyed to be turning 11-years-old as a free man. Had Dad not lost his job, Tommy knows with cold certainty, he might very well be picking out China patterns with the indomitable Stacy.
He's far too young, of course, and I would heartily disapprove of such a thing except the rest of my siblings neglect to tell me. In fact, I'm in the dark about quite a lot now that my younger brothers and sisters have all moved to Omaha. Dad, working ten hours a day at the dairy, is oblivious as well and only relieved that Tommy's made a friend. What Dad doesn't know, my younger sisters figure, can't hurt him. And anyway, Tommy's girlfriend Stacy is hardly a real girlfriend. More than anything, my sisters agree, she's a little girl who enjoys her power.
 |
| Carry and Deb |
Stacy is the tall, beautiful daughter of the African American couple down the street. Growing up in Grand Island, my siblings have never been acquainted with anyone who's African American. In the new Omaha neighborhood, however, their friends include not only Stacy but also several kids who are Jewish, one girl who is disabled and held upright with a sturdy back brace, and a pleasant 12-year-old boy named Jeff who wears makeup and loves fashion trends. Our huge Catholic family - the kids without a mother - only serve to add a little more diversity to the already eclectic neighborhood.
Jeff and Carry hit it off right away, and soon Carry, nearly 12, confides all her secrets - mostly because she thinks her new friend is a girl.
"His name is Jeff," my sister Terri breaks the news. "You DO know he's a boy, right?"
Shocked to the core, Carry takes time to digest this information. Soon, though, she resumes her friendship with Jeff taking particular care to call him by his correct name and listening closely to his instructions for applying a tricky eye liner. He becomes her best friend in the new neighborhood.
Meanwhile, my shy and innocent little brother Tommy meets Stacy at school. Loud and exuberant, Stacy dominates St. Robert's fifth grade class and, recognizing Tommy from the neighborhood, immediately claims him as her own.
"This year," she looks him up and down appraisingly, "you're gonna be my man."
Tommy blinks. He is both fascinated and afraid of this beautiful girl.
"Okay," he agrees uncertainly.
Stacy invites herself to dinner to see if she approves of her new man's family. Taking charge of the table conversation, she orders Tommy around and offers her blunt critique of the spaghetti dinner. She pauses, however, in mid diatribe to stare at Terri who's relishing with particular fervor the large helping of spaghetti in her mouth.
"Damn!" Stacy crows. "Look at those jaws move!"
Even Dad is a little frightened. "Who is this girl?" he whispers to Mary behind his hand.
Tommy, however, gazes adoringly at his beautiful new girlfriend and believes himself to be the luckiest boy in the world. But in the coming weeks, Stacy's orchestration of his every move wears thin. One night at the skating rink, he politely informs Stacy that he wants to break up.
"Break up!" She shrieks the words over the laughter and chatter of other skaters and lets loose with a string of expletives. Tommy's face burns with embarrassment. "You're my man," she pokes a finger painfully into his chest, "for as long as I say you're my man."
She skates off in a huff.
The truth is, Tommy has too many worries to juggle a bossy girlfriend. The move to Omaha has been traumatic for him and all my siblings.
Debbie, who's only just graduated from high school, accompanies the family to Omaha to help out. Dad purchases a much used Chevy Nova which Debbie uses to deliver Mary, Terri, Carry, Tommy and Jeff to school. Deb has never driven in Omaha, and the harrowing morning traffic intimidates her. She and Mary, however, attempt a dry run the day before school starts until Deb feels confident.
The next morning after Dad leaves for work and wishes all my brothers and sisters good luck, Deb herds everybody out to the Nova only to discover she's locked the keys in the house.
"Debbie!" my panic stricken sisters wail. In the end, it seems there's nothing to do but camp out on the front lawn all day until Dad returns home from work that evening. But missing the first day at their new schools unnerves my siblings, especially Mary and Terri.
"Why did we have to move here?" Terri agonizes. Mom would have known what to do. They ache for her and Grand Island and their old schools and for all that is comfortingly familiar.
Terri's already taken great pains to study the St. Robert's catalog to make sure she's wearing the school uniform exactly the way every other girl wears it. At 13, she's particularly nervous about fitting in at her new school. But the next morning, after Dad decides to escort the little kids to their second first day of school himself, Terri bursts into tears. Wearing her knee length uniform skirt and long socks, she's horrified to discover every other girl in her new school boasts a mid-thigh skirt and bobby socks.
"Dad!" she bursts into tears. "I look all wrong!"
As far as Dad can see, Terri's dressed exactly the same as all the other hundreds of other little girls chatting self-consciously at their lockers. But Terri's desperation is heartbreaking.
"Hey, hey!" he grabs her close. "I promise - after school we'll go to Target and get it right!"
Terri has another major concern entering her eighth grade year. She's started her period. Mom isn't here any more, and she's desperate to tell Dad. But she doesn't know how.
"Dad," she hesitates before concluding at a gallop. "I guess I've become a woman!"
 |
| Terri, Tommy and Jeff |
The move to Omaha is a struggle for everybody. My sister Mary's sole passion is athletics. To discover she's too late to try out for the Marian volleyball team is a terrible blow. On top of that, she's gone from her intimate Grand Island Central Catholic class of 50 kids to 300 in this all girls' school without any outlet or activity to help her make friends.
Jeff, in the third grade, struggles more than anybody. Dad believes it's critical right now that Jeff be as close as possible to his brother and sisters at St. Robert's. Jeff, however, has always received help for his disability and misses his gifted special ed teachers back at Grand Island Public. He falls further and further behind, but he's hardly the only one. Tommy and Carry are baffled as well. The terrible combination of Mom's death, leaving their home, and starting at a brand new school is too much.
As their school work suffers, teachers send their failing papers home with them. Dad's required to look at their school work, sign his name, and send it back. My brothers and sisters, however, make sure Dad never sees anything. Carefully, they forge his signature on every paper. It'll be weeks before teachers figure it out and inform Dad with a phone call.
In the meantime, Carry gets into trouble in the school cafeteria when she inserts a drinking straw through the middle of a hot dog wiener from one end to the other. Then she pours milk through the straw.
"Look!" she giggles at her lunch table. "The wiener's peeing!" The kids laugh so raucously that the teacher is alerted and immediately yanks Carry to the office.
Dad's shocked to discover his kids are forging his name, and he grounds Carry for the cafeteria incident. One afternoon at the kitchen table he sighs heavily and drops his face into his hands. Dad's lost his wife, he's raising ten kids alone, and his business has transferred him to another city with the order to resurrect a sinking dairy. My sister Mary sits across from my exhausted father and realizes not only that he's enormously overwhelmed but that my little brothers and sisters are in trouble.
 |
| Dad snoozes after a long day at work. |
Every night she prays and cries in her bed. "Dear God," she whispers earnestly in the dark, "you've got to get us back to Grand Island! Please help us, Mom."
Help comes, but not in the way Mary hopes.
One evening as Debbie and Mary prepare dinner, they hear Dad drive into the garage. Strangely, he doesn't stride through the door grinning and sniffing the good smells of food in the air like he usually does.
Puzzled, they glance through the window and are shocked to see our giant of a father sitting on the steps by the door, hands hanging between his knees, crying his eyes out. By this time, all my brothers and sisters are rooted at the window staring at Dad. Never in their lives have they seen him weep like this. Even when Mom died, he wept softly and silently. Now, unaware of all of them watching from the window, Dad's big, broad shoulders heave in great, helpless sobs.
Frightened, Deb, Mary, Terri, Carry, Tommy and Jeff turn away and wait for him to pull himself together. It would horrify him to know they've seen him like this.
After a long time, he finally enters the house composed and dignified.
"Hi Dad," they try to greet him naturally.
"Kids," he says wearily. "Sit down. I need to talk to you."
The dairy, he tells them at last, has been bought out by another company who's decided to clean house. He and all his employees can no longer work there. He's out of a job.
"Don't worry," he tries to reassure them. "We'll figure this out."
Mary's heart breaks for Dad, but my 16-year-old sister understands her prayers have been answered. There is no doubt in her mind they will all return to Grand Island.
And they do.
After weeks of job searching and terrible worry, Dad buys into a Grand Island travel agency - First Holiday Tour and Travel - which my brother Mick still owns and operates today. They all move back into the house on West Capital Avenue, and my brothers and sisters return to their old schools.
My brothers Joe, Mick and Rick, in college or working in Grand Island, are overjoyed to have our youngest siblings back. I'm overjoyed to teach my little sisters at Central Catholic again. Dad's overjoyed to manage his own business and to see his children thriving and happy again.
And Tommy's overjoyed to be turning 11-years-old as a free man. Had Dad not lost his job, Tommy knows with cold certainty, he might very well be picking out China patterns with the indomitable Stacy.
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