Dreams

DREAMS October 20, 2008


Waking up from a bad dream can spoil your whole day. I try to shake this feeling by convincing myself that it was only a dream, but that doesn’t always work. When I was a little girl my grandmother taught me that when I had a bad dream to, “Thank God, that it wasn’t true”, then she would say that most of the time your dreams were the opposite of what was really happening . I did find that to be true, but grandmother isn’t here anymore when I need her.

Sometimes I can hear someone speaking to me as I am waking up. It seems very real at the time. The good dreams are about the years I was growing up with my two sisters and Mom is always there like she was at that time. I also enjoy dreams about having young children and the early years of my marriage with Ed. I haven’t had a good flying dream for a long time. It’s like being in a hot air balloon and floating over the earth and enjoying the beautiful scenery. I’m glad I can dream about this because I would never take a hot air balloon ride. I also like the dreams about Europe, except the ones where I get separated from Ed and the tour group. I can’t speak the language and I don’t know how to get back to the hotel. It’s a great relief to wake up.

We don’t have any choice what our mind and memory will put together for a dream. I think of our mind as a computer compiling all of our memory from our past. Then different parts of that memory comes together in odd ways and that’s why it doesn’t make sense. Another repeating dream is I have to be somewhere and I can’t get ready to be on time or I have unexpected company and I don’t have any food in the house to offer them. I have also visited places where I have felt that I may have been there before. I think these places may have appeared in my dreams. That’s a little spooky. I don’t intend to dwell on any of these things because I can’t explain them, so I’ll keep in mind what grandmother said that to be thankful they are not true.

Last night I had a dream about pain in my knee. The doctor had drained some fluid off of my knee and then he gave me three shots one week apart to relieve pain. Yesterday I was thinking that my knee was feeling a lot better and the pain had gone. I go to bed and dream that my knee was hurting. I could feel the pain very vividly and when I got up this morning I realized the pain I was feeling was in my dream. This wasn’t fair to have pain that was not there.

One of my strangest dreams occurred after Ed passed away. I woke up in the middle of the night and I felt someone in my bed hugging me very tightly. I was trying to get away because I knew Ed was not there. I ran into the bath room thinking I must have over night guests and someone has mistakenly gotten into my bed. I looked down to the driveway to see if there were any cars parked there. The driveway was clear. I opened the bathroom door and peeked to see if someone was in my bed, I was afraid to return. The blankets were messed up and I had a problem believing that there was no one there. So I ran out and quickly turned the main light on. That was the strangest dream I have ever had. If I hadn’t been so frighten I would have believed that Ed had paid me a visit. So we have good dreams and bad ones. The next time I feel that someone is in my bed I will say, “Hi Ed, I have been waiting fo you”.

Audrey Teal Kaminski

Two Former Members

January 13, 08

Once in a while I think about former members of the memoir writing class. During the nine years I have been in the this class I have met many interesting people with great stories. Lately I have been thinking about two in particular, Florio Franetovich and Bob Reiter. Florio has passed away and Bob resides in a retirement community in Catonsville.

The way I remember, they appeared in class about the same time. They knew each other slightly because Bob was once in Florio’s current events class. Bob was exploring the senior center looking for classes that would interest him. He settled on an art and a light exercise class, but his favorite class was our memoir writing class, especially when we went out for lunch.

When Florio entered the class someone whispered that he was a retired lawyer. I thought “Oh My” I had better check the story that I was going to read. It was about my father’s wild young days and his problem with alcohol. I didn’t want to give a bad impression of the kind of stories that were read, so I choose a more slower and dull story. I realized later that was a wrong decision because we shouldn’t hesitate to read about our memories, besides he was a lawyer and I’m sure he has heard everything. Florio loved people and the more people he was around the happier he seemed to be. He had a great understanding of people. I guess that came easy after fathering seven children. He and his wife Katy invited our class to their home for several parties. Needless to say they were wonderful times.

Getting back to the beginning of my story. When we enter the class room new faces stand out and we know we have a new member. When Bob appeared I thought he was a very shy and an unsure man. I don’t know how I could have been so wrong. Anyway, he was being asked many question in a friendly way, like are you married, how many children do you have and where do you live. He looked a little stunned, so I interrupted and suggested that we don’t want to interrogate him. He smiled and choose me as his friend. He was happy to learn that Mary Jo knew his father who was a medical doctor. She remembered him from her nursing days. I’ll never forget Bob’s first story. He wrote about the time he and his wife suspected there was a forth child on the way. After he left the house to go work he would call his wife during the day and ask, “Have you come around yet” and the answer was always. “No”. When Bob finished reading, Florio looked at him and said, “I didn’t think you would write about your wife’s monthly cycle”.

Florio’s stories started out about his immigrant father, how hard he worked and wanted his family to have a better life. Then he wrote about his large and wonderful family. He loved humor and enjoyed bringing in jokes for the class. Florio was the instructor in the current events class. My husband and I joined his class and Ed got to know Florio and liked him. Suddenly things started to change because illness struck Bob’s wife, then Florio and then Ed. Bob was ill when we met him, but he was in remission. It’s sad that when you are in your senior years you meet all of these nice people and then they are gone. We have to remember how wonderful it was to have known them and what we would have missed if it had never happen. At least I had Ed for61 years.


Audrey Kaminski

A Visit From An Old Friend

October 6, 08

Recently I had a visit from an old friend named Ruth, it had been many years since I had seen her.When her son learned that his mother had an old friend in Bel Air and he had a daughter living in Abingdon he offered to bring his parents for a visit. I will always appreciate his thoughtfulness.

I met Ruth in 1942 when we were about 15 years old . We were starting to work in Hutzler’s department store. It was during the summer and I was going through a bout of teenage depression. World War II was raging in Europe and in the South Pacific. My cousins, uncles and friends were being called up for the service. No one knew what this war was going to cost our country in lives and money.

My family was still struggling with the effects of the great depression. We lived from week to week and month to month. An English lady who lived across the street told my mother that Hutzler’s Dept. Store was hiring girls my age with a working permit. Mom soon took me to get a permit and off to Hutzler’s we went. It was exciting to enter a beautiful large store with beautiful clothing and furniture. The job was to serve food in a salad luncheon room on the sixth floor. A new style that was copied from a salad room in New York. The room was decorated in green and yellow colored leather chairs. The salad and deserts were well prepared. It looked like heaven to me. Located next to the Quixie was an elegant tea and dinning room and the chairs were covered with white satin with red stripes. There was a beauty Parlor on the same floor and the ladies would have their lunch sent over. A lifestyle at fifteen that I had never seen before.

The clientele were very courteous, not like the customers at the lunch counter in the basement. Sometimes on Thursday evening there would be a fashion show in the tea room. All of this was like a wonderful awaking and I was learning that there was a brighter side of life. It was a nice solution for a young depressed girl. I worked with a group of girls my age and we wore cute colorful uniforms. I became friends with some of them. Ruth Filbey and Loraine Schneider was two of them. Sometimes on pay day a few of us would go some where to eat. We also went to the movies or the roller rink together. In time we broke up to search for higher paying jobs. Some of us tried to keep in touch by sending Christmas cards. As the war ended most of the girls were getting married and starting families. Then when I was 50 years old I got word that Lorraine who was the same age had passed away. Now some of my friends were dying off. It was painful, but you have to learn to deal with it the best that you can.

In the spring of 2008 I sent Ruth a memoir story about taking a bus trip to the lovely little town where she lives in Pennsylvania. I was so close and knew I couldn’t see her because on a bus trip you have to stay with the group. Ed couldn’t drive that distance because he was having health problems. Then I received a call from Ruth that she was going to visit her granddaughter in Abingdon and her son could bring her and her husband for a visit. I was very anxious to see her after all of these years. I waited on the porch as the car pulled up. When Ruth got out of the car I could see the girl I remembered. Even though her hair was white her stature was still the same. She said she had some replacements, but it didn’t show. We both have some heart problems and that didn’t show either.

When I started to reminisce about our days at Hutzler’s Ruth had different memories then I did.. She didn’t seem to be impressed with the beauty of the store she remembered that we only made 25 cents an hour. It never occurred to me that we worked for such a low wage. I could see that Ruth was more practical then me and that I was a dreamer.

All that matter to me was that I didn’t have any money before and with my salary I could pay Mom 4 dollars board and have some dental work done on a payment plan. I needed one dollar for carfare and there was still some left over to buy a garment on lay away. Movies was 25 cents and if the girls ate out it was a cheap meal with no tipping. The experience lifted my spirits, made me happy and taught me to want a better life. I think that was worth more then 25 cents an hour. I was on my way to the future.

You Never Know February 20, 08

Today you never know what is ahead of you. Life use to be more simple. After growing up most people married young, had children and retired between age 62 and 65 and usually lived in the same house for many years. Ed and I followed this pattern very closely. In the year of 1989 after we retired we were not very happy knowing we had to relocate after thirty three years. Being retired we could live anywhere. Ed looked for the best buy he could find where ever it was. The house that we both liked for the price was located in Bel Air, an area we knew nothing about. I did like knowing it was a little closer to my sisters and later our youngest son and his family moved near by and that made us happy.

I was 62 years old, retired from a job I loved and wondered if the best part of my life was over. At least we could still travel, but that was about once a year with a few short trips in between. I needed something to fill in the rest of the year. That’s how I learned that you never know what’s ahead of you. I thought Bel Air was a lay back remote little town with farmers and hard working no nonsense people. The folks I met were very friendly, but I was surprised to find so many above average interesting people in this small town.

Ed was more out going then me. He checked out the senior center. I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to join an old age club. I was already having trouble accepting my station in life. Then Ed decided to join a computer class at Harford Community College and later joined an exercise class. He was happy to be a student again. After a few years I gave in and decided to check out the senior center. I chose a ceramic class, then a quilting and craft class.

I learned a lot, but I wasn’t quite satisfied. Each time I saw the memoir writing class listed I would think I don’t know enough about writing to consider it, but then I remembered how much I enjoyed writing letters during the war. If this class didn’t work for me I could quit. On my first visit I knew this was what I was looking for. Many of the stories were about growing up, life experiences and travel. Some of the members were retired nurses, teachers and service people.

At that time I remember there were only two men in the class. One was our instructor Al Morey and the other was Fred Jacobs who was born in Germany long before World War ll. There was a lady who taught school in Egypt and another one who lived in Morocco for a few years and a retired army nurse from the Vietnam War. As time went on more men joined the class. During my time in class I met a retired psychiatrist, lawyer and semi retired judge. Once a new lady arrived and when asked about her deceased husband she said he was an army general. She became so inspired about writing her memoirs that she later wrote a book.

There was a lady from Norway and one from Germany and we heard stories about both countries. Some wrote beautiful poetry. All the stories were interesting even the one about a family kitchen table and how it was the center of gatherings for everything. I learned the more you write the better you get. In time you can see how to improve and be more descriptive, but best of all you are leaving behind a written legacy.

Audrey Teal Kaminski


Famous residents of Belair, Maryland

John Wilkes Booth -- American stage actor and assassin of President Abraham Lincoln.
Edwin Thomas Booth -- Brother of John Wilkes Booth, son of Junius Brutus Booth. Considered one of the greatest Shakespearean actors of the 1800s.
Augustus Bradford -- 32nd Governor of Maryland, 1862 - 1866.
Cigar -- Champion Racehorse
Blaze Foster -- Actor The Brave One, Wifey
Julienne Irwin -- contestant in America's Got Talent, a nationally broadcast talent show
Kimmie Meisner -- Figure Skating Olympian, 2006 World Champion & 2007 U.S. Figure Skating Champion
Jay Witasick -- Pitcher for Tampa Bay Rays

The Man With The Little White Dog

Written September 21, 08 Audrey Kaminski

In our neighborhood there are a few walkers and joggers and then there was a man who walked a little white dog. He was very friendly and often stopped to let the children pet the dog. When ever Ed was outside working this man would stop to talk to him. I considered him another one of Ed’s many acquaintances. After Ed became sick and passed away I never noticed what was going on around the neighborhood, I was too busy trying to adjust to a big change in my life.

One day as I was washing my car I saw a lady approaching with this little white dog. She came to greet me. I told her I didn’t remember her, but I knew the dog. She smiled and said, “ Yes I know, my husband use to walk this dog”. Then she told me that her husband had passed away in May. She wanted to tell Ed, but she learned that Ed had passed away also. What a sad moment . We were two women in the same situation. Then she went on to say that she was still working, but was considering retirement. I told her that most people in the neighborhood were acquainted with her husband and the dog and we all thought that he must have loved that little dog very much. She explained that he hated that dog, but because he was retired he offered to walk him. How could we all be so wrong?

He was a man with an unpleasant chore, but turned it into a happy one. We will always remember him as a very nice person and the neighborhood will never be the same.

Responsibities August 30, 2008

Responsibilities August 30, 2008

During our time together Ed and I shared our responsibilities. He took care of our finances and I did the shopping. He handled the repairs and I did the household chores. Ed did the yard work and I planted the flowers and he planned our trips and I did the packing. It was a fun life. Now everything is up to me.

One of your sad responsibilities after losing your spouse is a trip to the Social Security bureau. While my daughter was still visiting, she called to make an appointment then she had to return home to Colorado. It’s important to take someone with you to help remember why you are there. My daughter in-law Carole was kind enough to assist me. With a folder of information off we went. When I was called by an interviewer, I was surprised to hear my maiden name, Audrey Teal. I was also surprised to learn that my social security record was still in my maiden name after being married for 61 years.

The interviewer asked if I was legally married, I answered I hope so because I wouldn’t want to upset the children. I showed her a copy of my marriage licence, but she said she had to see the original. I have never had this problem before and I would return with the original. She read my parents name and asked what is their social security number? I told her that I had no idea. I didn’t even know if they had one. My father would be 108 years old and my mother would be 100. The next question was have I ever been in jail, I told her not yet. I looked at my daughter in-law wondering what she was thinking.

Ed was collecting a small railroad pension about 30 dollars a month and I was collecting 7 dollars a month. He felt that he wanted what ever he was entitled to and that small amount added up after 20 years. This put us in Railroad medicare. I was told that I would be moved into regular medicare and receive a regular social security pension and I would also receive a 255 dollar allowance for burial. Now it was getting interesting because to have a funeral today can cost up to10,000 dollars. As we left the Social Security Bureau the interviewer said she was very impressed with my 61 years of marriage and to please stay out of jail. After this experience I began to wonder what was next. I was now on my own and everything in my life was my responsibility and I didn’t have Ed to advise me. He took very good care of me and I had a fun life.

Through our many years together he was always trying to teach me about life and now I have to remember those things. I wish I had payed more attention. I will work hard to survive and make him proud. He was a good teacher and I miss him very much. I will never be as happy as I was, but with the love and help of my family I will always feel like the luckiest woman in the world .

Lessons from The World of Work circa 1942

My First Job in 1942

Now when I think back I suspect at age 15, I was going through a bout with depression. I was losing weight and my mother was very worried about me. She took me to The Woman’s Hospital for a check up. After a few tests I was told there was nothing wrong with me but I should try to eat food that was easy to digest. They put me on a special diet because I suffered with indigestion!!!

My cousin Esther’s mother-in-law Lottie worked in Hustler’s department store, down town. Lottie told my mother Hustlers was hiring young girls to work in their luncheon tearoom, part time. She said I needed an interest and I could earn some money. The tearoom was named The Quixie, meaning quick little restaurant. When I saw where I was going to work, I was delighted. It was a very attractive room with indirect lighting in the ceiling. The chairs were very colorful in pale yellow and green. Each customer had their own small table grouped for two, four and six people. The waitresses wore striped jumpers with a peasant blouse. It looked very elegant to me. Hustlers held classes for their employees to be trained. They were very strict about giving good service. This was a new concept for a lunchroom. The customer would pay ninety cents before entering and there was no tipping. This was a higher cost then it would be to eat in the Fountain Shop, in the basement.

There was a choice of four salads chicken, seafood, vegetable and fruit. The salads would come with two hot rolls freshly baked in their kitchen, a beverage and desert. The deserts were chosen from one of the two desert carts covering the room. I was impressed with the deserts. They decorated their deserts with real whip cream. I quickly enjoyed food I had never eaten before. I also gained back the weight I had lost. I really enjoyed my job and was as happy as I could be. The customers were very polite and a pleasure to serve. Even though they weren’t supposed to tip they would often do so anyway. Tips were to be turned in. There were two hostesses to seat the people.

These two young women came from upper class families and I always believed their families wanted them to work to get some experience. One of them seemed very spoiled to me. I once heard a rumor that the head supervisor said she would never make a Quixie girl a hostess. So I could see there wasn’t any future in that job. I became very fond of the girls I worked with. On payday we would go to some restaurant down town to eat dinner and then to a movie. I still hear from one of them. After sixty years we still send Christmas cards with a letter.

My job made a big difference in my life. I received praise for my work and I was earning money. There were shoppers working for the store who would come to eat and they would rate the service they received. I always got a good report. Sometimes someone from the Hustler family would visit. Before I left to work elsewhere, my sister Gloria and my cousin Esther obtained a job there also, so we have a lot of memories to talk about.

I have learned from this experience if you become depressed and unhappy, you should seek until you find what will help change things for you. It can be a very simple thing!

To: Ian and Great Grandson Jonah

Written Sept. 28, 2000 and edited in 2008

To: Ian and Great Grandson Jonah

Ian Edward was our first-born grandchild

To say we were happy is putting it mild,

Now he has become a man at last

Pop and I think the time went too fast,

When he was a child he brought much joy

My how we loved this little boy,

He was warm and loveable in a nice way

This part of him will always stay,

Pop and I wish him much success

Someone like him deserves no less,

Love,

Grandmom and Pop

Our Memoir Writing Class

Our Memoir Writing Class My story: April 16, 2003

Each time we received a newsletter from the Senior Center, the memoir class was listed. I always enjoyed writing letters, so I thought this may be something similar and worth trying. I’ll never forget the first day I went to class in, October 1999.

As I entered the building, a tall gentleman carrying a brief case was entering also. My first thought was, I bet he is going to be the instructor. The ladies at the reception desk were very friendly and were giving him a lot of attention. When it came to my turn they simply directed me to join the class upstairs. I entered a large room with and a group of people sitting around an oblong table. Thinking the instructor would sit at the head of the table I choose a seat on the side of the table. There was an empty chair next to a man named Fred. I asked if the seat was taken and Fred answered,” No”. He was too polite to tell me that was where the instructor usually sat. Here I am, getting off to bad start. When the instructor, Al Morey arrived with his brief case, he had to look for another seat. If this had been any other class, my simple mistake would have caused a stir, but the mistake had no affect on in this class.

I soon learned this was a very special group of people and things like this didn’t bother them. Once in a craft class, on my first day I sat in an empty seat and learned very quickly I had to move, because someone had a claim on it. The memoir writing class was friendly and polite. Each one read or told an interesting story. It was fascinating. When it came to me I was asked to introduce myself and if I had any stories to tell. I explained I wasn’t ready, but I would work on it. Now it was time to use my memory. The class likes to hear about travel and personal experiences. Some read beautiful poetry. Writing about the past has been good for me. There have been many happy times and a few sad ones to remember and they are all very important. At first I was concerned that my sisters and other relatives would disagree with my description of the past. I scuffed that off because your memoirs are the way you remember things not the way someone else remembers them. I learned that wasn’t a problem.

I remembered the questions our children and grandchildren have asked about the past. There were many things to write about. Many of my stories were about the depression. After getting to know the group better and enjoying their sense humor we often had a good laugh. On time I announced to the class, today my story wasn’t going to be about the depression. I could hear someone say softly, “Thank God”.

I have learned a lot from trying to write. It’s like self-teaching. After writing something and then reading it, I can tell I have been speaking incorrectly for a long time. I don’t know how much I’ll improve on that, but when it’s written, it can be improved. Even some of my spelling is getting better. The dictionary has become a great friend. It’s a pleasure to get something right and has become a very personal thing.

The members of our class have become close friends. I have told them that we have revealed more about our life in our stories in our class then probably anywhere else. Sometimes we go out to lunch after class and continue to enjoy each other’s company. Some of our members have passed away and this has saddened us. We know we will never see them again. But there is something wonderful about having known them. In a way, it is as if one of us deceases, the others can still celebrate their life. Maybe that’s what memoir writing is all about? It instills memories within us because of the stories they wrote and the conversations we had. It’s difficult to morn a form of immortality!

Audrey Kaminski

Remembering my Life With an Engineer

September 24, 05

Remembering my Life With an Engineer

After meeting a few engineer’s wives, I learned that many of them had the same complaints as myself. Most of them had met their husbands in college. I met mine in a roller rink before he became an engineer.

The common complaints were they couldn’t get their husbands to understand what wives and mothers had to deal with. The wives often wanted their husbands to listen and give them comfort. An engineer’s mind is trained to approach a problem, find a solution and move on. Engineers don’t approach a problem psychologically; their approach is more scientific.

Through the years the Westinghouse engineers found solutions to problems that were once thought almost impossible. Also the wives complained that when they talked to their husbands, instead of listening they would take over and decide how to find the answers. Obviously that wasn’t what they wanted. They blamed their husband’s education and training.

I strongly disagree with them. I told them that my husband was that way before he ever became an engineer. I thought he was born that way. He wants to understand what makes things work and why they work. I have to listen to why the ocean has waves and the earth rotates. He’s curious about outer space and the speed of light. He likes to talk about the oil deposits around the world and the great need for oil and how China is going to put a drain on the supplies. Then there is the problem in the Chesapeake Bay. Why the bay is losing it’s once large supply of oysters and crabs and how that could be corrected. He has unlimited interests in everything.

So when I tell him that my cake just fell. It didn’t bother him as much as it did me. He said, “Don’t worry about it, I will eat it later”. I was hopping not to get a long explanation to why the cake fell.

I once asked him what he thought was the greatest invention of the 20th century and his answer was the microchip. I said that I thought it was the microwave.

Engineers were once voted as bad fathers. That’s not because they aren’t loving and caring. They are. They have a very strict attitude. I decided a long time ago that whenever Ed didn’t understand the problem that’s when I would take over.

When my young brother-in-law, Richard, was a vacuum cleaner salesman many years ago, he told me that the salesmen hated to try to sell to engineers. They asked too many questions and expected more information than what was available. I’ll never forget the story about a Westinghouse engineer who went home one day and learned that his wife wanted a divorce. This came as a surprise because he didn’t know they were having marital problems. It’s a good thing she didn’t die because it may have taken a while before he discovered it.

Later he married someone he had met in high school many years ago. They have been very happy together, playing golf.

Doctors think about illnesses, judges, lawyers and police think about law. Educators think about education and military people think about war. I will always remember the statement that our former classmate, Jackie Cagwin, made at a party. Jackie was the widow of General Leland Cagwin. She said that when she married her husband, who was an army lieutenant at the time, she knew the army would always come first. She learned to live with that and they stayed married over sixty years.

In all the years that Ed and I have been married we find that our greatest understanding has come in our senior years. Ed has learned to listen to our grandchildren’s problems and help them in many ways. They love him dearly. I have tried to do the same thing. They ask one thing of Pop. Make his explanations shorter! If we try to live and learn, it can be a great life.

Audrey Teal Kaminski

My Husband Ed and his work Life

My Husband Ed and his work Life

Story was written in the year 2000 :

My husband was a wonderful man who worked hard his entire life. Ed dropped out of Poly Tech High School after the 10th grade. During that summer he worked for a furrier. He was promised that he would be taught to make fur coats if he dropped out of school. In December of that year, the furrier fired him because of lack of work. But this did not stop him.

Ed then worked for the Victory Race Horse Shoe Co. bending, grinding and polishing aluminum racehorse shoes. On Saturdays he stuffed Sunday papers at the Sun Newspaper Co. to make extra money. Every Saturday he would walk from his home on Port Street in Baltimore’s Patterson Park neighborhood to the Sun Office downtown to save carfare.

Later a friend of his mother was able to get him a job with the B&O Railroad sweeping the floor. He tried to get a machinist apprentice job. The only thing that was available at the time was a boilermaker apprentice. So he changed jobs. While he was an apprentice, he started night school taking drafting. Perhaps because of the night school, he was generally moved in places in the shop that required more mental than physical ability. During the apprentice period, Ed went and returned from World War II. After the war and during a meeting at the shop, Ed learned the new about boilermakers. This work was not good for your health. A shop speaker mentioned that the life expectancy of a boilermaker was 55 years. Ed took a cut in pay for a job in the drafting department.

We were married in 1946. Ed went back to the B&O after the war. He took his GED but decided that a more formal high school diploma would be better. He was able to get the diploma by taking 2 courses, 4th year English and U.S. History. He continued drafting school for total of 6 years and also took a course in Radio & Television Servicing. After working in the B&O drafting for a period of time Ed decided that it had no real future so he took a job with Westinghouse in the drafting department.

By that time Diana was born. After 10 years of marriage we were able to move to Glen Burnie in a new split level home. We started to think about the future of our children. We wanted them to go to college. When the 3rd child came along, it was a rough delivery and Ed promised to help me in every way.

One day as I was lying in bed, still recovering, Ed came home, sat on the edge of my bed, and told me that Westinghouse was giving him and other draftsman an opportunity to go to Johns Hopkins for an engineering degree. Westinghouse would pay for the tuition as long as he got good grades. Ed said that he would not go unless I said it would be OK. He also said that he wanted the certificate in engineering which would take less time than the full degree. The certificate would help elevate him in drafting. If this would help elevate him in drafting, it affected our future; I knew that I couldn’t interfere with this opportunity. I told him that he should do it. I knew that if he started going, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got the degree.

After 11 years at Johns Hopkins he got his degree. Ed is a born engineer. By the time he was about 41 and had his certificate, Westinghouse moved him into engineering without the degree. While at Westinghouse most of everything that Ed did was classified. After a short period in engineering Ed was given Aerospace jobs to design. Before Ed retired he was promoted to a fellow engineer and had his own parking space with his name on it.

I told him that he was a star and he was going to retire. His answer was that he wanted to enjoy his wife and family the rest of his life. At the age of 63, and after 33 years with Westinghouse, Ed retired.

At the retirement party, a manager stated that one of the projects Ed worked on was given a 5% success chance. That project outperformed and was a complete success. That group of men had a close relationship to each other and for years after Ed’s retirement we are still invited to many parties.

Ed doesn’t recognize many of the new engineers. Westinghouse has been sold but our memories are still there. I often remind my husband that he can grow old knowing that he lived life to the fullest. Often he missed our children’s childhood. Our children didn’t feel that way because he was there to help them with their homework. I have to remind him that because of him our children got the opportunity of college and school help. Now he enjoys our grandchildren’s childhood

Audrey Kaminski

My Story About Laura November 3rd, 2001

Laura was born on August 8th, 1988. I can’t forget a date like that one, 8/8/88. She was over due and we were all waiting anxiously. One that morning Pop and I were having breakfast and we heard on the T.V. that a little princess was born in England. I thought to myself this would be a good day for our grandchild to be born.

I had a lot in common with Queen Elizabeth, we were close in age, our children were close in age and now our grandchildren are close in age. That was where the similarity ended.

Then our phone rang and I was disappointed to hear Nancy’s voice, thinking nothing has happened yet. Nancy announced she had just delivered a baby girl. What a shock! I had never received a call like that before. The father usually calls. My first question was “ What is our son Allan doing?” Her answer was he is holding his daughter. On our way to the hospital we decided to stop and buy some pretty little dresses. As we stood in the cashier’s line we looked a little conspicuous. Two senior citizens buying baby clothes seemed a little unusual.

We were asked if this was our first granddaughter and our answer was no, she was our third. The excitement was just as great. Laura has always been very close to us. Her parents lived in Eldersburg and later moved to Bel Air near us, in Brentwood Park. She was a pretty little girl with a head full of blonde curls. When she was 21 months old we took her to a family reunion. Her parents were at the hospital for the birth of her brother Michael. Laura made a big hit at the reunion.

My cousin’s husband said they would give anything to have a granddaughter like her because all their grandchildren turned out to be boys. On her second birthday I was recovering from a broken ankle. The party was held outside on the lawn. I tried to sit out of the way with my crouches. At this age Laura was very selective about whom she trusted. After she opened her gifts she brought the gifts to me to watch over them. I felt very honored she trusted me with all those great gifts. As she grew up there were the tonsil operation and the time she broke her wrist. It was a bad break, but she didn’t let it hold her down. Laura and her brothers often come to visit us. We have baked, sewed and did many crafts together.

Yeqr 2001:

A few years ago when she was younger she told me her favorite grandmother Mary was coming for a visit. I thought I would have some fun with her, so I told her I thought I was her favorite grandmother. Her answer to that was she had two favorite grandmothers. At Easter time to see Laura in her first pair of high heels on an egg hunt was a sight to see. She was determined to find her share of eggs. We are use to having her around; she pops in once in a while.

She often spends a night on the weekends and likes to sleeps with stuffed animals and an eye mask we got from British Airways for sleeping. She takes care of her breakfast and lunch and is an ideal guest. When she’s ready to go home it can be a sudden decision. She is now taking up acting and singing. Being a shy girl I think that is good for her. She works hard to succeed and wants to go to college to become a veterinarian. She and her family love pets and have a house full of them. Because I have allergies I told her I’m not comfortable in their house. Laura said in her sweet way “ Grandmother that is the way this house is. “Instead of being a vet I would like to see her become a teacher. She loves children and gets along very well with them. I intend to mind my own business and say nothing. Maybe she’ll read this story some day.

I’ll end Laura’s story on the note that there is no end. We will always hope she will pop in from time to time and that we will always be her other favorite grandparents.

Audrey Kaminski

Alyssa’s Arrival January 07, 1990

Memoir Story written by Audrey Kaminski

Nov. 15th, 2001

Our oldest son Eddie was living in San Diego, California with his wife Carole and their son Christopher. Carole was expecting another child. The delivery was scheduled for about January 14th by Caesarean section. Knowing this I arranged my flight schedule for that date and a three week stay. Thinking everything was under control we went on with our life. We offered our younger son some help to get his home painted inside for the house to be sold His wife was pregnant also.

Then we heard our son Eddie had become very ill with pneumonia and had to be placed in a hospital. We were assured he was being well cared for. After that we heard Christopher was ill with the flu and his mother was taking care of him. Carole had family and friends in California so I thought I would stick to my original plans and leave in one week because I thought Carole’s surgery was going to be the biggest problem.

My husband and I were busy painting in Allan’s house in Eldersburg. Then we got a call from Eddie from his hospital room. He wanted to tell us Carole had gone into labor and was rushed to the same hospital where he was staying. He had to wear an oxygen mask most of the time. He was worried about their 2 year old son who was staying with friends and would be missing his parents. So I told him I would be there as soon as possible. The next flight to San Diego was 7 a.m. the next morning. On our way home we stopped at a couple of grocery stores as they were closing, to pick up some TV meals and other things for my husband while I was away. He was going to fly to California later and visit our daughter before coming to San Diego. I was up late packing my bag and had to leave early for the airport.

When I arrived in San Diego one of Carole’s friends was standing in the airport with a sign that read,Grandmother Kaminski. I knew I was in the right place. She took me to the hospital to visit Carole, Baby Alyssa and Eddie.

Then we went home to Christopher. Carole’s mother had arrived before me. I was glad to see her. We were both needed. One could not have done it alone. Eddie had to be picked up from the hospital, groceries had to be bought and Christopher had to taken care of. Eddie asked me to drive him to the drug store for his medication. It was the first time I had ever drove a large van. It felt like a Mac truck. I asked him, how did I do. His answer was, not so good. After all it had been many years since I drove a gear shift vehicle and what’s a few jerks.

Every thing was starting to come together. Every one was on their way to recovery. Carole’s mother and I became very good friends. Carole arrived home with a beautiful granddaughter to go with our precious grandson. It couldn’t be better. Alyssa had a rough beginning but I’m happy to say things have been normal ever since. Now Alyssa is 11 years old. Thank goodness it will be a few years before she starts driving and dating.

Mark’s Bike Accident 2002

Mark’s Bike Accident 2002

On Monday October 14^th, after a visit with two of my remaining aunts, I felt sad to see how the years have taken its toll on their health. I remember these ladies as strong and robust. After a long drive home we were passing the Baptist Church on Vale Road near were we live. There were many lights blinking. Then we could see an ambulance, fire truck and police car leaving the parking lot. Thinking someone had become ill at the church we continued on. Little did we know that our nine-year-old grandson had just been put on a helicopter in route to John Hopkins Hospital?

After we arrived at home we learned Mark had collided with a small truck while riding his bike on Red Pump Road. As his parents were driving to the hospital Mark’s mother called us on her cell phone. She tried to reassure us that they thought he would be all right. Mark received a gash on his forehead that caused much bleeding. Later, his mother Nancy told us that when they reached him laying in the street his head was covered with blood. When the paramedics examined him they couldn’t tell how bad he was hurt. They said when a child receives a head injury the procedure is to send them to John Hopkins. At the hospital Mark received a few stitches in his forehead and was treated for scraps and bruises. His parents called to tell us that his head x-ray showed no serous injury and he could go home that night. Then, we were all able to have a peaceful sleep.

The next day when I saw him he was a mess. Mark looked like a truck had hit him. He was still wearing his hospital gown and his nose was swollen with a large sore across it. There were many scrapes and bruises and Mark looked exhausted. His parents thought it best to keep him home from school for a few days. I watched him on the two days his mom had to work. Mark has helped me to strongly believe in miracles. On Sunday, one day less then a week since his accident he was well enough to take on a short trip. Ed and I had promised to take him to Baltimore, to visit the Walters Art Museum to see the female mummy on display there. When we picked Mark up I couldn’t believe how good he looked. Many of the scabs on his face were gone and his nose was a normal size. When he returns to school his classmates will wonder if he did have an accident, except for the stitches in his forehead.

This same little boy at age eight years old in June 2001 was rushed to the hospital with a ruptured appendix. A condition that is very dangerous. I remember being in the hospital with the family when the surgeon told us he may have to remain there for five days. His parents were allowed to stay with him over night during this time. Mark recovered in three days and went home with a neat little incision. I hope he wears his battle scares well.

This story has a happy ending and this family is forever grateful. I hope in the future that the children and drivers will try to prevent as many accidents as they can. Our hearts go out to others living through such experiences. When a family pulls together it makes all the difference in the world.

Audrey Kaminski