This will bring me to the last two weeks of my attendance at Girls Commercial High School.......................
Several days after the family's happiness regarding the Life Extension incident, on arriving at school, my first class of the day was swimming, which was to be the last swim session of the term. Ater roll-call, one teacher said that she had just received a bulletin from Mrs. Allan, our school principal, and as soon as all the chatter stopped, she proceeded to read from it: 'That any girl who had not learned to swim at least across the width of the pool, would not graduate.'
I can't recall my immediate reaction except that my whole world collapsed. I sat down on the floor, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. Then I felt the arms of my teacher embracing me, whilst assuring me that I still had ten days to learn.
The last ten or twelve days before graduation were usually spent by most students 'just-fooling around', visiting friends and teachers in different classrooms, signing autograph books, and attending to last minute details. But, not for me! I didn't dare say a word at home. For the next seven days, I rose, dressed and walked to school in a trance. There, I would don my bathing suit and report to the pool area. My teacher, realizing how dreadfully scared I was, patiently kept coaxing me. I kept going in and out of the water but hanging on to the ledge constantly. Then I heard the teacher call me back into the water: Elvira, please come back...I'll be right here with you; just have faith in me; you will not drown. Eventually, very slowly, I walked down the several steps into the shallow end of the pool. "Now Elvira, just do as I say: Now throw yourself backward (yes, I'm holding on to you), wave your arms through the water (yes, I'm still holding you), splash your legs up and down (yes, still holding)...........and about minute or two later, I heard several teachers and a few students yelling and clapping their hands, and the teacher in the water with me, saying "mission accomplished". Then I was told.......that without my realizing or being aware of it, and after the last 'yes, I'm still holding', she released her hold and I just floated across on my own steam. Her report to the principal's office was that I swam across the pool.
Are you out there listening to me? I've told you more than once.........REAL angels are everywhere, and they are just ordinary people.
Yes, I graduated from Girls Commercial High School with Rose Lorber in January 1928. In my new autograph book, this time she wrote "Too bad we won't be going to three schools together". And, in the Year Book, under my picture was printed:
Elvira you're not so unoberved
We know you're doing your share
Twixt printing room and typing
Your days are not free from care
A very lovely and very distinguished lady, Louise Hoover, was our Commencement Speaker. A year later, her husband, would become the President of the United States. Unfortunately, only seven months into President Herbert Hoover's administration, sounds of newsboys, down on the streets below offices, resounded with "EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!"......and the whole world remained in a Great Depression until World War II.
However, in February 1928, I entered the business world with the economy rather
good. No longer was I the little girl who worked in her Mother's grocery store. I was a stenographer and bookkeeper on her way to a job in a medical office in Manhattan. I had become an American young lady whose heart was wrapped up tightly, enclosing forever, all that warm Italian culture. which, to this day, has sustained me throughout my extraordinary journey in this life.
There is one more chapter regarding the incredible event that took place in GCHS, which, after many years, came to a glorious conclusion for me.
So until next time........Elvira
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
High School - Chapter 3
In my last blog, I wrote that I had two years left of high school days---------
The last two years at Girls Commercial High School found me exceedingly happy. Days flew by quickly, Before I knew it, we were preparing for the 1927 Christmas-time festivities. With only a few days more than a month away, we talked a great deal about the expected graduations; my younger sister Marie from grade school and bound for GCHS, and my graduation from GCHS and bound for-who-knows-where. I was 17-years old, but very naive regarding the world outside of my neighborhood. No one seemed to ask, nor did I ever question what I would do with the knowledge I had acquired over the past four years. The answer came again in the form of real angels..............
Returning to school after the Holiday-break in early January 1928, recruiters from the Life Extension Institute presented themselves at GCHS seeking soon-to-be-graduates with excellent stenographic skills who would be able to take rapid dictation from doctors. Four students were to be hired to start working immediately after graduation..... and I was selected as one of them.
At dinner that evening, my family was in a state of jubilation: Elvira was going to be a stenographer and take dictation from doctors. Every morning, she would board a St. John's Place trolley car, which would take her to Flatbush Avenue; and from there, go underground to a subway train which will carry her to 42nd Street Times Square. Best of all, she was going to earn $15.00 for 43 hours per week....nine to five Monday through Friday and nine till noontime on Saturday. Wow! 35-cents an hour. And just imagine, she didn't have to spend time scanning newspaper ads or pay an employment agency to find a job. How lucky can one be!
It's true. There was not a dark cloud in the sky; just a lot of blue, blue skies.
My last two weeks at GCHS is still another story.
Elvira
The last two years at Girls Commercial High School found me exceedingly happy. Days flew by quickly, Before I knew it, we were preparing for the 1927 Christmas-time festivities. With only a few days more than a month away, we talked a great deal about the expected graduations; my younger sister Marie from grade school and bound for GCHS, and my graduation from GCHS and bound for-who-knows-where. I was 17-years old, but very naive regarding the world outside of my neighborhood. No one seemed to ask, nor did I ever question what I would do with the knowledge I had acquired over the past four years. The answer came again in the form of real angels..............
Returning to school after the Holiday-break in early January 1928, recruiters from the Life Extension Institute presented themselves at GCHS seeking soon-to-be-graduates with excellent stenographic skills who would be able to take rapid dictation from doctors. Four students were to be hired to start working immediately after graduation..... and I was selected as one of them.
At dinner that evening, my family was in a state of jubilation: Elvira was going to be a stenographer and take dictation from doctors. Every morning, she would board a St. John's Place trolley car, which would take her to Flatbush Avenue; and from there, go underground to a subway train which will carry her to 42nd Street Times Square. Best of all, she was going to earn $15.00 for 43 hours per week....nine to five Monday through Friday and nine till noontime on Saturday. Wow! 35-cents an hour. And just imagine, she didn't have to spend time scanning newspaper ads or pay an employment agency to find a job. How lucky can one be!
It's true. There was not a dark cloud in the sky; just a lot of blue, blue skies.
My last two weeks at GCHS is still another story.
Elvira
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
High School - Chapter 2
In my last post, I told you about the wonderful Christmas present given to me by my Father.....that he fully supported my wish to graduate from high school. So let's continue.....
With my new found happiness, I set the ball rolling. I changed my studies from an academic course to a commercial one, which included bookkeeping, typing and the handwritten 'lost' language of stenography in which I excelled and enjoyed tremendously.
The transition from academic to commercial caused me to lose quite a few credits....and if I still wanted to graduate with Rose Lorber, somehow, I had to recover those credits. I sought the advice of my Grade Advisor (a music teacher whose name, at the moment, I can't remember) and she directed me to summer school classes at Erasmus Hall High School on Flatbush and Church Avenues in Brooklyn. I enrolled and the summers of 1926 and 1927 were spent at this school accumulating the necessary credits.
During the first two years of my high school days, a new building was being constructed for Girls Commercial High School on Classon Avenue and Union Street.....opposite the famous Brooklyn Museum and across from the Prospect Park Botanical Gardens. In the interium, some of the students were temporarily housed in annex buildings throughout the borough. Rose and I were placed in an annex on Gates Avenue, between Tompkins and Stuyvesant Avenues....and each morning at eight o'clock, we boarded a Gates Avenue trolley at Greene Avenue and St. James Place after walking four long blocks.
Christmas 1925! What a wonderful Christmas; it continued to reign gifts. On returning to school shortly after the holidays, the students at the annex received a surprise announcement, but to me it was a gift: The new term, beginning the first school day in February 1926.....we were all to report to the new building on Classon Avenue; that all Girls Commercial students, for the first time, would all be together in a magnificent building, with a very large auditorium and a huge swimming pool.
Yes, I proudly walked through the Union Street door of this magnificent building on the first school day in February 1926. There was no need for a trolley; I walked ten short blocks straight up Washington Avenue. And on most Friday afternoons for the next two years, I stopped and chatted with my Aunt Filomena (my Mother's youngest sister) whose house I passed-by each day. I decided I would try to do my very best in all the activities assigned to me,
Part of the Gymnasium curriculum was a swimming class once a month. Students were required to purchase a standard-style swimming suit at the school store, and when I asked Mother for the money, I thought she was having a heart attack. She screamed and cried: "No! No! No! You can't go in the water. You will drown." And once again, I sat down and listened to a tale of woe from my dear loving Mother: In Italy, when she was 17 years old, she was riding a horse across the meadows, when she came to a stream she had crossed many times before on her way to and from her home. This particular day, something in the water disturbed the horse and she was thrown into the stream, rendered unconscience and nearly drowned. Fortunately, she was rescued by a neighbor but remained slightly incapacitated for almost a year. "So you must understand; you must not go into the swimming pool; you must promise me; promise me." What could I do, I promised....although I had no idea how to handle it.
Well, I don't recall what excuses I gave once a month to the swimming teachers. However, there is one excuse I used legitimately and frequently; but I can't recall what the others were. As I sit here typing, I calculate there must have been at least 20 swimming sessions during the next two years, and perhaps for the five or six legitimate excuses, I truly can't recall the other fourteen or fifteen ones. Since I can't remember any stress, it probably didn't matter much to the teachers. I'm wondering if I just said "I don't want to swim today"....or did the teachers say to each other "We don't force anyone to climb the ropes, so what's the difference."
Was I a tomboy? Yes, I was. Did I play basketball and all the rougher ball games? I sure did! I remember qll the long black stockings that had holes in them from the falls, scraping the grounds. Did I climb the ropes? Why do you ask? What a snap.....heck, all the way to the top!
I remember clearly....that every Monday morning, we assembled in our beautiful auditorium and after pledging allegiance to our Flag, I can bet that even the people staffing the museum could hear us sing our school song:
We're Girls Commercial
Yes we are, yes we are
In everything, we are the star
We are the star
Ooooh say by jinx
Now don't you wish that you
Belonged to Girls Commercial too.
Two years to go and I will graduate from high school.
To be continued.
Goodnight..........Elvira
With my new found happiness, I set the ball rolling. I changed my studies from an academic course to a commercial one, which included bookkeeping, typing and the handwritten 'lost' language of stenography in which I excelled and enjoyed tremendously.
The transition from academic to commercial caused me to lose quite a few credits....and if I still wanted to graduate with Rose Lorber, somehow, I had to recover those credits. I sought the advice of my Grade Advisor (a music teacher whose name, at the moment, I can't remember) and she directed me to summer school classes at Erasmus Hall High School on Flatbush and Church Avenues in Brooklyn. I enrolled and the summers of 1926 and 1927 were spent at this school accumulating the necessary credits.
During the first two years of my high school days, a new building was being constructed for Girls Commercial High School on Classon Avenue and Union Street.....opposite the famous Brooklyn Museum and across from the Prospect Park Botanical Gardens. In the interium, some of the students were temporarily housed in annex buildings throughout the borough. Rose and I were placed in an annex on Gates Avenue, between Tompkins and Stuyvesant Avenues....and each morning at eight o'clock, we boarded a Gates Avenue trolley at Greene Avenue and St. James Place after walking four long blocks.
Christmas 1925! What a wonderful Christmas; it continued to reign gifts. On returning to school shortly after the holidays, the students at the annex received a surprise announcement, but to me it was a gift: The new term, beginning the first school day in February 1926.....we were all to report to the new building on Classon Avenue; that all Girls Commercial students, for the first time, would all be together in a magnificent building, with a very large auditorium and a huge swimming pool.
Yes, I proudly walked through the Union Street door of this magnificent building on the first school day in February 1926. There was no need for a trolley; I walked ten short blocks straight up Washington Avenue. And on most Friday afternoons for the next two years, I stopped and chatted with my Aunt Filomena (my Mother's youngest sister) whose house I passed-by each day. I decided I would try to do my very best in all the activities assigned to me,
Part of the Gymnasium curriculum was a swimming class once a month. Students were required to purchase a standard-style swimming suit at the school store, and when I asked Mother for the money, I thought she was having a heart attack. She screamed and cried: "No! No! No! You can't go in the water. You will drown." And once again, I sat down and listened to a tale of woe from my dear loving Mother: In Italy, when she was 17 years old, she was riding a horse across the meadows, when she came to a stream she had crossed many times before on her way to and from her home. This particular day, something in the water disturbed the horse and she was thrown into the stream, rendered unconscience and nearly drowned. Fortunately, she was rescued by a neighbor but remained slightly incapacitated for almost a year. "So you must understand; you must not go into the swimming pool; you must promise me; promise me." What could I do, I promised....although I had no idea how to handle it.
Well, I don't recall what excuses I gave once a month to the swimming teachers. However, there is one excuse I used legitimately and frequently; but I can't recall what the others were. As I sit here typing, I calculate there must have been at least 20 swimming sessions during the next two years, and perhaps for the five or six legitimate excuses, I truly can't recall the other fourteen or fifteen ones. Since I can't remember any stress, it probably didn't matter much to the teachers. I'm wondering if I just said "I don't want to swim today"....or did the teachers say to each other "We don't force anyone to climb the ropes, so what's the difference."
Was I a tomboy? Yes, I was. Did I play basketball and all the rougher ball games? I sure did! I remember qll the long black stockings that had holes in them from the falls, scraping the grounds. Did I climb the ropes? Why do you ask? What a snap.....heck, all the way to the top!
I remember clearly....that every Monday morning, we assembled in our beautiful auditorium and after pledging allegiance to our Flag, I can bet that even the people staffing the museum could hear us sing our school song:
We're Girls Commercial
Yes we are, yes we are
In everything, we are the star
We are the star
Ooooh say by jinx
Now don't you wish that you
Belonged to Girls Commercial too.
Two years to go and I will graduate from high school.
To be continued.
Goodnight..........Elvira
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
High School Entry
My last posting referred to the fact that by sheer luck I was going to be a student in a high school. The story continues as follows:
Rose Lorber had signed up for an academic course at Girl Commercial High School to prepare her for a two-year college course at a teacher's training school. Since I was going to high school for only one term (five months),....shucks, I might as well go there too; at least I would be in school with Rose.
As the end of the five-month reprisal date approached, once again my brother Nicholas spoke on my behalf. He told my Father that it would be a shame to withdraw me from school: "Elvira is doing so well." After a rather heated discussion, with pros and cons being bantered about, Dad relented, and "Bene, go five more months".....and after that period expired, another five months.
I was 15 years old at Christmastime 1925 and I had decided it was time to stand up to my Father and his old customs. Ho! Ho! Ho! What a joke! After a late and rather long Christmas breakfast with home-made struffoli, panzarotti, demi-tasse with a touch of anisette instead of coffee with milk, Dad rose from the table and went to the basement to attend to some of his daily chores. After clearing the table and attending to my other duties, I went down to confront my Father. As he was placing some wood in the stove, I blurted out: "Papa, I want you to know that I'm tired of your five month extensions; I've been in high school almost two years and I've decided to go through the full four years and graduate. My Dad turned, looked at me standing in the doorway; then quietly but sternly said: "Come here." Afraid of the thrashing I was about to receive for speaking so disrespectfully, I stood there petrified. As father drew closer to me, he took me by the hand, walked to his chair, sat down....and with the warmest embrace I can still feel, my Dad gave me the best Christmas present I could ever have received. It was nothing tangible.....just words. Words that have been forged in my memory-bin forevermore. "Now! Now! is that what has been bothering you? Who said you would not graduate! Of course, you will." Suddenly, I realized that my Italian father was slowly, but surely, becoming an American.....and, by golly, I WAS an American.
I'll stop here; I'm a bit tired Will stir up some energy and try to get back tomorrow.
Elvira
Rose Lorber had signed up for an academic course at Girl Commercial High School to prepare her for a two-year college course at a teacher's training school. Since I was going to high school for only one term (five months),....shucks, I might as well go there too; at least I would be in school with Rose.
As the end of the five-month reprisal date approached, once again my brother Nicholas spoke on my behalf. He told my Father that it would be a shame to withdraw me from school: "Elvira is doing so well." After a rather heated discussion, with pros and cons being bantered about, Dad relented, and "Bene, go five more months".....and after that period expired, another five months.
I was 15 years old at Christmastime 1925 and I had decided it was time to stand up to my Father and his old customs. Ho! Ho! Ho! What a joke! After a late and rather long Christmas breakfast with home-made struffoli, panzarotti, demi-tasse with a touch of anisette instead of coffee with milk, Dad rose from the table and went to the basement to attend to some of his daily chores. After clearing the table and attending to my other duties, I went down to confront my Father. As he was placing some wood in the stove, I blurted out: "Papa, I want you to know that I'm tired of your five month extensions; I've been in high school almost two years and I've decided to go through the full four years and graduate. My Dad turned, looked at me standing in the doorway; then quietly but sternly said: "Come here." Afraid of the thrashing I was about to receive for speaking so disrespectfully, I stood there petrified. As father drew closer to me, he took me by the hand, walked to his chair, sat down....and with the warmest embrace I can still feel, my Dad gave me the best Christmas present I could ever have received. It was nothing tangible.....just words. Words that have been forged in my memory-bin forevermore. "Now! Now! is that what has been bothering you? Who said you would not graduate! Of course, you will." Suddenly, I realized that my Italian father was slowly, but surely, becoming an American.....and, by golly, I WAS an American.
I'll stop here; I'm a bit tired Will stir up some energy and try to get back tomorrow.
Elvira
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Grade School Graduation
As I was approaching the end of January 1924, I also knew that my school education would also be ending. For some time, I had been alerted by my dear Italian Father that it was time for me to take over some of the more tedious burdens of my Mother, to allow her to devote more time to her store business, and to prepare me for my future role as wife and mother. This is something I accepted, albeit grudgingly, but with great respect, because it was the way of life. Most all of the other Italian girls in my neighborhood, who were graduating from grade school, faced the same reality; however, they usually became factory workers.
In New York City in those days, it was the law that if you were under sixteen years of age when completing grade school, it was necessary to acquire Working Papers whether or not you became a wage earner. To facilitate matters to obtain these papers, an application form had to be filled out and signed by the school's principal and then presented in person to the proper government-agent whose office was on Tillary Street in downtown Brooklyn. New York.
I remember the day it was my turn to go to the principal's office. As I entered, Mr. Harding rose and came from around his desk to shake my hand, and, "What brings you here to see me, Elvita." Working Papers, I said. "Working Papers? Why? Aren't you going to high school?" No. And silently, without saying a word, he shook his head from side to side. He pulled out an application form from his desk drawer and started to fill out the form......Name: Elvita Sperduto, Address: 946 Atlantic Avenue, Birth: July --, 1910. And then a long pause, as if he was thinking. No longer gloomy, he looked at me smiling gleefully, and words just rushed out: "Elvita, you're going to high school whether your father likes it or not, You are not going to be 14 until July and that's six months away. The Law requires that you must be at least 14 years old before your schooling ceases. You are only 13-1/2 and, therefore, you must attend high school at least for one term before Working Papers will be granted." I was stunned! Once again, Mr. Harding walked around his desk and, this time, instead of shaking my hand, I received a great big bear-hug. (That would be considered inappropriate today. What a shame!) I'm almost one hundred years old and I still love that man...Mr. Franklyn Harding, the Principal of Public School #11.
I just could not eat dinner that evening and Mother thought I was ill. After dishes were cleared away, Father sat back in his chair and surveyed his domain. A few words from here and there and then I blurted out: "Pa , whether you like it or not, I'm going to high school" and continued to relate the conversation in the principal's office. I can still see my Father, rising in his chair, shoulders spread back, bang on the dining room table, and in a rage bellow: "No one is going to tell me how to raise my children. You are lying. You and the principal 'cooked-up' this story." Thank God for Nicholas, my oldest brother who was now 25 years old and worked as a private chauffeur driving a Lincoln limousine for a very wealthy financier. Nicholas spoke in a very quiet tone: "Pa, it is the law. You will be arrested and sent to jail. I happened to visit a few of my old teachers several weeks ago and they all said Elvira is smart....and, after all Pa, it's only for one term." Nick was able to calm down this enraged but truly law-abiding man. "Bene, justa fer fiva muns." Mother was removing pots from the back of the coal stove and with her apron wiping away tears. My brothers were elated "Gee, El, you're going to high school. Wow!" My sisters looked at me with awe.
Now I'm in a dilemma. I really wanted to be a dancer or fashion-designer. But, I'm going to high school only for one term. Heck, I'll ask Rose Lorber where she was going. The next day and with autograph book in hand , I met Rose and told her the above story. And as I mentioned in my last post, Rose said: "Goodness gracious, after all that was said and done. Give me your book, Elvita"....and wrote the poem about Moses.
.......................................................................................................
By sheer LUCK I was able to attend high school My 4-A teacher had me skip a class; instead of promoting me to the 4-B, she placed me in the 5-A class. Had I not skipped a class, I would have graduated in June 1924,,,,,..in July, I was fourteen and my Italian culture would have prevailed.
.....................................................................................................
Rose and I both graduated from Girls Commercial High School in January 1928 and that is another story!
In New York City in those days, it was the law that if you were under sixteen years of age when completing grade school, it was necessary to acquire Working Papers whether or not you became a wage earner. To facilitate matters to obtain these papers, an application form had to be filled out and signed by the school's principal and then presented in person to the proper government-agent whose office was on Tillary Street in downtown Brooklyn. New York.
I remember the day it was my turn to go to the principal's office. As I entered, Mr. Harding rose and came from around his desk to shake my hand, and, "What brings you here to see me, Elvita." Working Papers, I said. "Working Papers? Why? Aren't you going to high school?" No. And silently, without saying a word, he shook his head from side to side. He pulled out an application form from his desk drawer and started to fill out the form......Name: Elvita Sperduto, Address: 946 Atlantic Avenue, Birth: July --, 1910. And then a long pause, as if he was thinking. No longer gloomy, he looked at me smiling gleefully, and words just rushed out: "Elvita, you're going to high school whether your father likes it or not, You are not going to be 14 until July and that's six months away. The Law requires that you must be at least 14 years old before your schooling ceases. You are only 13-1/2 and, therefore, you must attend high school at least for one term before Working Papers will be granted." I was stunned! Once again, Mr. Harding walked around his desk and, this time, instead of shaking my hand, I received a great big bear-hug. (That would be considered inappropriate today. What a shame!) I'm almost one hundred years old and I still love that man...Mr. Franklyn Harding, the Principal of Public School #11.
I just could not eat dinner that evening and Mother thought I was ill. After dishes were cleared away, Father sat back in his chair and surveyed his domain. A few words from here and there and then I blurted out: "Pa , whether you like it or not, I'm going to high school" and continued to relate the conversation in the principal's office. I can still see my Father, rising in his chair, shoulders spread back, bang on the dining room table, and in a rage bellow: "No one is going to tell me how to raise my children. You are lying. You and the principal 'cooked-up' this story." Thank God for Nicholas, my oldest brother who was now 25 years old and worked as a private chauffeur driving a Lincoln limousine for a very wealthy financier. Nicholas spoke in a very quiet tone: "Pa, it is the law. You will be arrested and sent to jail. I happened to visit a few of my old teachers several weeks ago and they all said Elvira is smart....and, after all Pa, it's only for one term." Nick was able to calm down this enraged but truly law-abiding man. "Bene, justa fer fiva muns." Mother was removing pots from the back of the coal stove and with her apron wiping away tears. My brothers were elated "Gee, El, you're going to high school. Wow!" My sisters looked at me with awe.
Now I'm in a dilemma. I really wanted to be a dancer or fashion-designer. But, I'm going to high school only for one term. Heck, I'll ask Rose Lorber where she was going. The next day and with autograph book in hand , I met Rose and told her the above story. And as I mentioned in my last post, Rose said: "Goodness gracious, after all that was said and done. Give me your book, Elvita"....and wrote the poem about Moses.
.......................................................................................................
By sheer LUCK I was able to attend high school My 4-A teacher had me skip a class; instead of promoting me to the 4-B, she placed me in the 5-A class. Had I not skipped a class, I would have graduated in June 1924,,,,,..in July, I was fourteen and my Italian culture would have prevailed.
.....................................................................................................
Rose and I both graduated from Girls Commercial High School in January 1928 and that is another story!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Autograph Books
I have not been able to energize myself for the past several weeks due to the fact that a member of my family, one very dear to me, has had major surgery, and it has taken a toll on me.
Since I'm still not up to composing something for you, I will post from time to time facts relating to memorabilia I have accumulated over the years, as well as thoughts that come to mind as I daydream through each day.
I'll start with a box that I recently brought up from the storage in the basement. I pulled out of it two autograph books: one from grade school (year 1924) and the other from high school (year 1928. The grade school one quickly reminded me of a poem my best girl friend wrote, and before I scanned the pages to look for it, I tested myself to see if I remembered it.....and sure enough I did. Here it is:
Moses was a good man
Of children he had seven
He thought he'd hire a donkey-cart
And drive them all to Heaven
But sad to say
He lost his way
Although he knew it well
He overturned the donkey-cart
And drove them all to................
Now don't get excited
Now don't get red
Instead of going to Heaven
They all went to bed.
Rose Lorber was my best girl friend and lived across the street from me on the second floor in a tenement building. Her family were the only Jewish people in our neighborhood, and her father Samuel Lorber was everybody's plumber. Rose was very aware of the differences in our cultures and we each respected the others. She knew that my school days would end with my graduation from grade school, Therefore, the day after I learned I could attend high school and told her the good news, we jumped in glee and clung to each other. Then in a more serious tone, Rose said: "Goodness gracious. after all that was said and done. Give me your book, Elvita"...... and wrote the above poem. In my next posting, I will tell you about this chapter in my life.
............................................................
And now: A Joke for the Ladies
The editor of a paper in Providence lately informed his readers that the ladies always pull off the left stocking last. This, as may be supposed, created some little stir among his readers, and while in positive terms they denied the statement, they at the same time declared that he had no business to know it, even if such was the fact. and pronounced him no gentleman. He proved it, however, by a short argument: when one stocking is pulled off first, there is another left on, and pulling off this is taking off the left stocking last.
..........................................................
And: Did You Know
Australia is the richest source of mineral sand in the world.
The average normal speed of birds in order to remain aloft in flight is reported to be about 11 miles per hour.
Color telephones were first mass-produced in 1954.
A coward was originally a boy who took care of cows.
The famous Russian composer Aleksandr Borodin was also a respected chemistry professor in St. Petersburg.
The fastest moon in our solar system circles Jupiter once every seven hours....travelling at 70,400 miles per hour.
.........................................
Until next time Elvira
Since I'm still not up to composing something for you, I will post from time to time facts relating to memorabilia I have accumulated over the years, as well as thoughts that come to mind as I daydream through each day.
I'll start with a box that I recently brought up from the storage in the basement. I pulled out of it two autograph books: one from grade school (year 1924) and the other from high school (year 1928. The grade school one quickly reminded me of a poem my best girl friend wrote, and before I scanned the pages to look for it, I tested myself to see if I remembered it.....and sure enough I did. Here it is:
Moses was a good man
Of children he had seven
He thought he'd hire a donkey-cart
And drive them all to Heaven
But sad to say
He lost his way
Although he knew it well
He overturned the donkey-cart
And drove them all to................
Now don't get excited
Now don't get red
Instead of going to Heaven
They all went to bed.
Rose Lorber was my best girl friend and lived across the street from me on the second floor in a tenement building. Her family were the only Jewish people in our neighborhood, and her father Samuel Lorber was everybody's plumber. Rose was very aware of the differences in our cultures and we each respected the others. She knew that my school days would end with my graduation from grade school, Therefore, the day after I learned I could attend high school and told her the good news, we jumped in glee and clung to each other. Then in a more serious tone, Rose said: "Goodness gracious. after all that was said and done. Give me your book, Elvita"...... and wrote the above poem. In my next posting, I will tell you about this chapter in my life.
............................................................
And now: A Joke for the Ladies
The editor of a paper in Providence lately informed his readers that the ladies always pull off the left stocking last. This, as may be supposed, created some little stir among his readers, and while in positive terms they denied the statement, they at the same time declared that he had no business to know it, even if such was the fact. and pronounced him no gentleman. He proved it, however, by a short argument: when one stocking is pulled off first, there is another left on, and pulling off this is taking off the left stocking last.
..........................................................
And: Did You Know
Australia is the richest source of mineral sand in the world.
The average normal speed of birds in order to remain aloft in flight is reported to be about 11 miles per hour.
Color telephones were first mass-produced in 1954.
A coward was originally a boy who took care of cows.
The famous Russian composer Aleksandr Borodin was also a respected chemistry professor in St. Petersburg.
The fastest moon in our solar system circles Jupiter once every seven hours....travelling at 70,400 miles per hour.
.........................................
Until next time Elvira
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Poetess
As I have mentioned in a previous post, from time to time, I would like to honor friends that have enriched my life, each one in his or her inimatable way.
Danita is a lovely lady, who as a child grew up in Texas. Today, she is a Mother, Grandmother and a vivacious Realtor in Putnam County, New York...and one of my colleauges and an alumni of the Life-Bio Class under the supervision of Mary Andriola. Danita has been able to over-ride the many trials and tribulations which enter one's life, by remembering that she is still THAT little girl in Texas who was fazed by nothing.
Danita is our Poetess and writes in prose. Her subjects are usually enriched with the splendor of Nature. Here is one of my favorites........
TIME by Danita Mancini
Is it your time or my time
Even though we live
In the same Universe
I can tell you
We look at it QUITE differently
I ALWAYS
Have to be before time
I am that person
Who is waiting for you
Because you are NEVER ON TIME
You say you never have enough time
Time is just the spaces between events
How we use that is what makes the difference
What do you mean you never have time?
Why
Did someone steal it?
Does it mean you waste time
Dream time away
Do you think
There is a third
Dimension your not privy to
Or are you unrealistic on
What you can do with time?
Does it mean you let other people
Tie you to their thoughts
Fleeting your time away
I have always run everywhere
And often wondered how
People can pass snail paced through
Do they daydream more than me?
Have more pleasure than me
Or smell the roses more?
Let me tell you
AT A RUNNING SPRINT
I can smell those roses
And I can observe it all
To this day I bless my Mother who
In her infinite wisdom
Didn't think I ever moved fast enough.
-------------------------------------------
More of DID YOU KNOW:
A full moon always rises at sunset.
The side of a hammer is called a cheek.
About 33,000,000 Americans do crosswords in newspapers, journals, and paperback books.
Ostriches stick their heads in the sand to look for water.
The forest of the Canadian Lake District is so dense that during Winter snow stays on top of the trees and the forest floor stays bare.
Hope you enjoy..........Elvira
Danita is a lovely lady, who as a child grew up in Texas. Today, she is a Mother, Grandmother and a vivacious Realtor in Putnam County, New York...and one of my colleauges and an alumni of the Life-Bio Class under the supervision of Mary Andriola. Danita has been able to over-ride the many trials and tribulations which enter one's life, by remembering that she is still THAT little girl in Texas who was fazed by nothing.
Danita is our Poetess and writes in prose. Her subjects are usually enriched with the splendor of Nature. Here is one of my favorites........
TIME by Danita Mancini
Is it your time or my time
Even though we live
In the same Universe
I can tell you
We look at it QUITE differently
I ALWAYS
Have to be before time
I am that person
Who is waiting for you
Because you are NEVER ON TIME
You say you never have enough time
Time is just the spaces between events
How we use that is what makes the difference
What do you mean you never have time?
Why
Did someone steal it?
Does it mean you waste time
Dream time away
Do you think
There is a third
Dimension your not privy to
Or are you unrealistic on
What you can do with time?
Does it mean you let other people
Tie you to their thoughts
Fleeting your time away
I have always run everywhere
And often wondered how
People can pass snail paced through
Do they daydream more than me?
Have more pleasure than me
Or smell the roses more?
Let me tell you
AT A RUNNING SPRINT
I can smell those roses
And I can observe it all
To this day I bless my Mother who
In her infinite wisdom
Didn't think I ever moved fast enough.
-------------------------------------------
More of DID YOU KNOW:
A full moon always rises at sunset.
The side of a hammer is called a cheek.
About 33,000,000 Americans do crosswords in newspapers, journals, and paperback books.
Ostriches stick their heads in the sand to look for water.
The forest of the Canadian Lake District is so dense that during Winter snow stays on top of the trees and the forest floor stays bare.
Hope you enjoy..........Elvira
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