One day not too many years ago, I was at work and this man comes in. He walks right past the sign that says Authorized Personnel Only, and he walks straight over to my desk in the middle of the office and says, “Were you in second grade at the Ericson School?”
He said, “Well, I’m glad I saw you again.” And he left.
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I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he remembered me. I went back in my mind to second grade, to 1921, 1922. What happened?
So my father promised her that if we went to the public school this one year, next year we would all go back to Our Lady of Sorrows. Which is what we did.
Then Marge and I went with my Aunt Anna and my father to Calvary Cemetery, where my mother’s mother is buried and my older brother and sister, John and Loretta, who also died young. They were born naturally, and then died a week or so later. They’re all buried at Calvary, the first two children and then the seventh. My mother always reminded us of their birthdays. She would say, “We have three angels in heaven praying for us.”
We would go on Thursday night, which was amateur night, and this one night some kids from my class were doing a Japanese dance that we’d learned in gym class. They were singing and twirling umbrellas. I knew all the girls onstage.
He said, “No.”
