Today is Gary’s 68th birthday, he’s finally caught up to me, since I was 68 in July. Yep, he was born on December 31, just in time to be a tax deduction for his parents in 1946. He was always on time. He was one of those kids born so close to Christmas that they always feel cheated, as if they missed out on a gift. I thought that this was a really good time to print some pictures of my guy growing up into the great guy he is now.
Here he is with his mother, Darlene on their street in Chicago, where the small family had moved when Lug got back from WWII.
Then Cathy, his sister was born and aren’t they a cute duo on their front step still in Chicago? You can see even at this early age, what a hunk Gary is going to grow into. But, that is one bad haircut. The bowl must have been on sideways.
We were both in the same 7th grade home room. Gary’s the guy with the string tie, all the rage in the 50’s (look at those dreamy bedroom eyes - even in 7th grade) and I’m the the innocent faced tall girl in the front row. I walked to Jr. High School about 1 1/12 miles, past two bakeries, one a pre-Krispy Kreme type and another was a homemade bakery that made the gooiest caramel sticky buns. One on the way to school and one on the way back. 3 miles a day and both Jean, my friend, and I still gained weight.
On to High School where Gary ran for and won the office of Student Body President. Little did he know that his big job was filling the soda machines in the teacher’s room. No, he also led the student council and opened each assembly. String tie gone and haircut much improved.
College (Gary’s in the middle.) Looks like laundry day in the dorm.
Finally the Navy. His mother saw this picture and went ballistic. She didn’t see the uniform, she didn’t see the hat, all she saw was the teeny tiny little cigarette in his hand. Her pure son was SMOKING. The story is: every other guy in Gary’s electronics group got to take a cigarette break while Gary, who didn’t smoke, had to keep working. Smart guy that he is, he took up smoking so he could have a break too. He quit pretty soon after he started. Strangely enough, for no other reason than I wanted to look grown up, I took up smoking in college only to quit soon after I realized that it tasted awful.
and he met me, again, out in Rhode Island where I was teaching and I saw a catch and snagged him. Who else would look as dorky as I do running a race?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GARY
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