This is the story about one day - July 7, 1969. That was the day we moved into our new house in New Canaan, Connecticut. We had driven from Bethesda, MD the day before and were staying at the Holiday Inn in nearby Darien. We were all very excited to see our new house - my parents had been working on it for almost a year. The moving van was scheduled to arrive later that day, so the house was empty. It was a hot & sunny summer day.
The house was located on the top of Sturbridge Hill Road. Before being subdivided, the road was empty except for one tree - hence the locals called it Lone Tree hill. It was a popular "make-out" spot for teenagers, so almost everyone in town knew where our street was. Eventually it was divided into large building lots, and our house was one of five or six homes built in the late 1960's.
As the house was constructed, it became a curiosity to the neighborhood. There were lots of big houses in New Canaan, but a house with seven bedrooms and four bathrooms on the second floor alone led to much speculation. The word got out that a family with nine children was moving in.
As we drove up Sturbridge Hill Road for the very first time that July day, we were surprised to find a crowd of teenagers hanging around. Upon further inspection, we realized it was a large group of teenage boys - all waiting for us! They came because as news of the occupants of our house spread, it changed to a family with nine girls moving in. By the time we got to Connecticut, our family no longer had boys and girls ages three to eighteen. To "those in the know," we were nine teenage girls - with no mention of brothers or parents.
What a disappointment it must have been to all those boys as we exited the car. They were expecting Hawaiian Tropic models and they got the Brady Bunch plus. Although Barbie, Cherie and I would have loved to hang out with this captive audience, we were quickly whisked into the house by my Dad. We didn't object too much - that day even boys were overshadowed by our new home. But I always smile when I think about that day.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Best Part of Moving
We moved more often than any family I ever knew. I was born in Illinois, moved to California and stayed for kindergarden thru 4th grade, moved back to Illinois for 5th, 6th and half of 7th grade, moved to Maryland to finish 7th grade and 8th, and then to Connecticut for 4 years of high school. I had it easier than many of my siblings - our moves didn't interrupt my critical school years.
I didn't mind moving. To me it was a fresh start in a new, exciting place. But the best thing about moving is that the entire family would evaluate everything we owned. Important family stuff was never questioned. But packing up everything gave us, along with my parents, a chance to go thru all our clothes, toys, books and every other possession we owned and get rid of what was no longer needed. And the funny thing was that I didn't miss a single thing that didn't move with us. More than anything, things got sorted and organized every few years.
The homes we lived in became progressively larger as our family grew. When we moved in, everything had a place. But after a time, storage was used up and my parents would joke "The ashtrays are dirty. It's time to move again."
Our house in Bethesda, Maryland was fancier than the homes we'd lived in before. The neighborhood was a large development of beautiful houses, kinda like a very upscale Talbot Drive. A large percentage of the residents in Bethesda are part of the medical community, so many houses in our neighborhood were owned by doctors, nurses and other hospital staff.
We moved from Riverwoods to Bethesda in the middle of the school year. That was hard, not only because of everyone switching schools, but because it was the first time we were attending public schools. I was halfway through 7th grade. Going to Catholic school meant I still wore a uniform and was in the same classroom, with the same teacher, almost all day. All of a sudden I'm in a large Jr. High school (7th - 9th grade) and moving throughout the building for every class. And my wardrobe was definitely insufficient. Thank goodness Mom understood and took me shopping at the Potomac mall. I'd never been to such a heavenly place! Yes, life was suddenly different, but not bad.
Our house had a beautiful open floor plan. A large section of the basement had been finished and we spent time downstairs, but we preferred to watch TV upstairs in the large den on comfortable carpet. Two areas in the basement were used to store boxes of things my Mom wanted or needed to keep, but didn't unpacked yet.
The house suited us and we were happy there. When the weather was nice, we'd often take family walks around the neighborhood after dinner. I guess living with so many doctors in close proximity made Dad a little more health conscience. My parents were both in their early 40's They had nine children ranging from Barbie - a senior in high school, down to Kitty - about a year old.
About six-months after we moved to Bethesda, Dad called a family meeting. We knew from experience that this meant one of two things was going to happen. Either we were getting a new sibling, or we were moving again. We had betting odds on the new baby. After all, we just moved to Maryland, right? But we predicted wrong - my Dad had been transfered to New York, so we were moving after the school year ended.
Through the following months, we saw very little of my Dad, and Mom started traveling with him frequently back and forth between Maryland and Connecticut. My Dad was working in New York, and Mom spent several days a week in Connecticut working with a contractor to build a new home for our family.
My Mom traveled mostly on weekends so there was less disruption to our school routine and Dad could accompany her to Connecticut as much as possible. It wasn't long before Barbie and Cherie started planning sporadic parties for their high school friends while Mom and Dad were out of town. I don't think they every got into trouble or we were in any danger, but I sure remember some strange things that went on during these weekend gatherings early in 1969. At least the soundtrack to our lives was good during those months.
Those boxes in the basement never got unpacked until they arrived in Connecticut. And the house in Bethesda sold quickly, in spite of teenage parties. Barbie graduated from high school just before we moved. She would be attending Wheelock College in Boston in the fall. Time was marching on, and we were all in step.
As much as roots are important to most people, I really never had them so I would still move every few years if I could. Not because I need change, but because I need the forced organization that comes with packing up a household. And evaluating the importance (or unimportance) of all my stuff. A big job - maybe I should pretend we are moving somewhere new. Na, it wouldn't work. Our ashtrays are still clean.
We moved from Riverwoods to Bethesda in the middle of the school year. That was hard, not only because of everyone switching schools, but because it was the first time we were attending public schools. I was halfway through 7th grade. Going to Catholic school meant I still wore a uniform and was in the same classroom, with the same teacher, almost all day. All of a sudden I'm in a large Jr. High school (7th - 9th grade) and moving throughout the building for every class. And my wardrobe was definitely insufficient. Thank goodness Mom understood and took me shopping at the Potomac mall. I'd never been to such a heavenly place! Yes, life was suddenly different, but not bad.
Our house had a beautiful open floor plan. A large section of the basement had been finished and we spent time downstairs, but we preferred to watch TV upstairs in the large den on comfortable carpet. Two areas in the basement were used to store boxes of things my Mom wanted or needed to keep, but didn't unpacked yet.
The house suited us and we were happy there. When the weather was nice, we'd often take family walks around the neighborhood after dinner. I guess living with so many doctors in close proximity made Dad a little more health conscience. My parents were both in their early 40's They had nine children ranging from Barbie - a senior in high school, down to Kitty - about a year old.
About six-months after we moved to Bethesda, Dad called a family meeting. We knew from experience that this meant one of two things was going to happen. Either we were getting a new sibling, or we were moving again. We had betting odds on the new baby. After all, we just moved to Maryland, right? But we predicted wrong - my Dad had been transfered to New York, so we were moving after the school year ended.
Through the following months, we saw very little of my Dad, and Mom started traveling with him frequently back and forth between Maryland and Connecticut. My Dad was working in New York, and Mom spent several days a week in Connecticut working with a contractor to build a new home for our family.
My Mom traveled mostly on weekends so there was less disruption to our school routine and Dad could accompany her to Connecticut as much as possible. It wasn't long before Barbie and Cherie started planning sporadic parties for their high school friends while Mom and Dad were out of town. I don't think they every got into trouble or we were in any danger, but I sure remember some strange things that went on during these weekend gatherings early in 1969. At least the soundtrack to our lives was good during those months.
Those boxes in the basement never got unpacked until they arrived in Connecticut. And the house in Bethesda sold quickly, in spite of teenage parties. Barbie graduated from high school just before we moved. She would be attending Wheelock College in Boston in the fall. Time was marching on, and we were all in step.
As much as roots are important to most people, I really never had them so I would still move every few years if I could. Not because I need change, but because I need the forced organization that comes with packing up a household. And evaluating the importance (or unimportance) of all my stuff. A big job - maybe I should pretend we are moving somewhere new. Na, it wouldn't work. Our ashtrays are still clean.
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