Early Memories

Fond Memory brings the light

               Of other days around me;
           
                      The smiles, the tears,
                   
                       Of boyhood's years,....
                   
                               (Thomas Moore 1779-1852)


My infancy began on October 20, 1944 in Mt. Vernon Hospital.  It was an auspicious day, not so much due to my birth, but because Gen. Douglas MacArthur, as he had sworn to return, arrived back in the Philippines, wading ashore, with reporters and photographers capturing the moment.  My dear mother, Beatrice, (and the Japanese) must have been so surprised that she went into labor!  Back in that era, hospital "confinement" was up to two weeks compared to today's one day. I think my parent's total bill was around $25!
My discharge was accompanied by little wads of paper from my Pediatrician, Dr. Henry Kaessler, instructing my mom how to feed me.  Unfortunately, I was not breast fed so I ended up being on concentrated milk, egg whites and, yes, orange juice.  How things have changed.  In 1977, I was at a pediatric meeting in New Orleans and sat next to a retired physician who was somewhere around 90 .years old.  He introduced himself to me, a young pediatrician just starting my career.  It was Henry Kaessler!

Finally, HOME!
     Home was 290 Bedford Avenue on the south side of Mt.Vernon, New York.  It was a two-family home, quite large, with the Mayers upstairs and, at first, the Stolls downstairs followed by the Lichtensteins later on.  It was a lovely neighborhood, not by any means in the tony, upmarket (as the Brits say) area of the city but quite diverse and with good neighbors. Besides 3 bedrooms, there was a living room, dining room, large kitchen, a pantry where Mom kept the cookie jar, and a wonderful sun room with lots of windows. This was to be my home for the next 15 years.  There was an excellent school, Graham School, just steps away from where we lived.  More about Graham later.

Besides my big sister, Lois, having to get used to me and all the attention I was getting, the house was filled with visitors coming to see the new baby, including our large extended family and friends. Back then, most parents kept a Baby Book for each child.  I still have mine and it lists who visited and the gifts they brought.  WWII was still raging in both Europe and the Pacific and the majority of gifts were War Bonds which supported the American war effort.

We were a 2-career family, my father, Monroe, being an Optometrist like his father before him and my mother, an Interior Decorator, who did most of her work in New York City.  She always had interesting stories to tell about her work and the beauty she brought into people's homes and offices.  She was known to her friends as "Beattie" and, until her dying day, was a very attractive woman.  I knew she had many admirers. She came home from work once in the 1950's and told us what had happened one rainy morning in the city.  It was very early in the morning and she was walking pretty much all alone on Fifth Avenue when a black limo pulled up next to her.  The window came down and she was greeted by a wave and a big "Good Morning".  It was President Dwight D. Eisenhower!

HOW EARLY CAN ONE REMEMBER?
     How far back are we able to remember?  Unfortunately, for children who have had adverse events early in life, these memories are imprinted from a very early age.  I was fortunate, other than some bad moments that I remember occurring in my childhood...the occasional spanking, pepper in my mouth for speaking disrespectfully, a fork whacking the top of my hand at the dinner table if my manners were not up to snuff (usually a surprise attack!), and a belt against my bottom incurred by my father when he got home from work if he had reports of my bad behavior during the day.  Unfortunately, that set a bad precedent for my relations with him for many years to come.  Like so many others in that day, I survived those events and, as a parent, never raised my hand to my children.  I prefer to dwell on the happy memories of fishing in a rowboat with Grandpa Leo at 3, going to my cousin Norma's wedding at age 4, and my first airplane voyage at age 6 to visit "Big Nana" Helen in Florida ( yes, the original Art Deco buildings were all there in South Beach in 1951).
I guess, perhaps fortunately, I have not pared down my neurons quite yet for long term memory.

Next: The Family Roots