The Wedding Part 1

 

The Alder Mansion

I have put off writing about the wedding which occurred the middle of August.  Over all it was such a great summer I hated to put a damper on it by telling interesting, eye opening, good time, a little scary time, bad time and the cause of future events.  That in just three days time.  But here goes.

Charles had two daughters.  The youngest, in her mid twenties lived in Detroit.  Jamie was cute and the typical Jewish American Princess in that anything she wanted or needed Charles provided.  Jobs, places, to live and boyfriends came and went very quickly.  The longer Charles and I were together the more she tried to cause problems between us.  If I answered the phone when she called she never said hello but just "I need to talk to Daddy".

Breann was thirty and lived with her boyfriend, Rob, in White Plains, New York.  They had been together for seven years, owned a great old townhouse together and were fun to go and visit.  Rob collected architectural salvage which I thought was just pretty cool.  They decided to get married which was interesting as Rob was Catholic and Breanne was Jewish.

Charles flew to New York several times during the summer to help with plans.  Actually I figured that it was to pay for this or that as Breanne's mother lived in the same area and you can bet she did a lot of the planning.  Weddings have to be huge and expensive in her view. Those were the days before debt cards and Charles did not have credit cards but did all transactions in cash.  Even when it was large sums of cash. It did not dawn on me at the time but the trips to New York were to pay for things.

We flew to New York on a Friday morning arriving around 10:00.  There was a luncheon planned at a restaurant for many of Breanne and Rob's friends and a few relatives. Since I had a college suite-mate that lived in Soho I made arrangements to meet her for the afternoon so Charles dropped me off and headed for lunch.  I met up with Erin who I had not seen since my New Jersey days.

Erin was a high school counselor with a PHD. For years she had lived in an apartment that she rented when all of a sudden her landlord decided he wanted his mother to have the apartment.  Erin had to leave with no place to go.  Rent had gone up all over the city and Erin told me stories about how there were hundreds of women with good paying jobs living on park benches because they could not find a place to live.  Erin went to her parents and they helped her purchase a condo in Soho.

The halls of the building were so narrow that your shoulders almost touched the walls as you walked down the hallways.  The condo could not have been more than six or seven hundred square feet.  It was all one room with a couch that folded out to make a bed, a tiny kitchen in one corner and the bathroom was smaller than most gas stations. The saving grace was that it had a patio, well actually a roof top, that was as big as the condo.  She happily paid $93,000.00 for it so she never had to worry about being homeless again. I rather liked it myself.

We had a great time catching up, wandering around Soho and looking at all the shops. Erin had an Italian restaurant picked out for us for dinner.  It was a very tiny place with only about a dozen tiny tables for two.  Our reservations were for seven and I was starving by then. Interesting was that the waiters could not speak English.  The menu was also in Italian but Erin said to just pick something out and to answer yes to anything that sounded like a question.  She said everything on the menu was out of this world and that you would be happy with it. She was right!

It was after 9:00 when we finished with dinner. I had not planned on staying in the City that late but time flies when you are having fun.  I asked Erin how could I get to White Plains hoping she had a car.  No such luck as it is two expensive to have a car in the City so she pointed in the direction of Grand Central Station so I could take the train.

Grand Central Station certainly lives up to it's name.  Open in 1871 but in thirty years it was obsolete in handling the daily traffic.  It was redesigned with everything grand thrown in.  There was the belief that people arriving to New York for the first time needed to see the beauty and the grandness of the city.  Originally it handled trains coming and going from other places but the need for commuter service in the city slowly transformed it into a regional commuter hub.

After I wondered around taking in all the beauty of the huge building I looked for some information on how to buy a ticket to White plains.  I was directed to a wall of machines that would pop out a ticket to any where. I was completely confused as to what to do when I was approached by a man, not very well dressed and not one I wanted to have a conversation with.  He asked me where I was going and I told him.  He immediately found the ticket window for White Plains and told me how much money I needed.  I gave him the money expecting him to run off with it but instead he put the money in the machine and got a ticket.  I thanked him, he asked for enough money for a cup of coffee but I gave him enough for dinner so he walked me to the correct platform and disappeared.

The train ride was fascinating.  The train was an elevated tracks as we went through the city.  People who worked, had been to dinner or the theater came and went from the train. Although the car was pretty empty at times a man with a bottle in a brown paper sack sat down next to me.  This one I did not want to talk to under any circumstance so while he rambled on I looked out the window and totally ignored his ramblings until he got bored and left.

One would have thought that upon arrival in White Plains there would be a station of sorts with people and taxi cabs around like you would see in the movies.  No, there was a platform with stairs to the ground, not a sole in sight and a phone booth. Time passed slowly as I tried to figure out what to do when another train arrived dropping off a couple of gentleman. A taxi arrived, came to a screeching halt and the two gentlemen jumped into an already filled cab.

I managed to get the driver to answer a the question as to how I was supposed to get to the Holiday Inn.  He informed me that his cab was full, going in the opposite direction and their was no room for me.  I guess I looked a little desperate as one of the passengers asked him if maybe they could take me to the hotel.  The taxi driver argued but finally let me get in with a total of seven people in that cab and we struck off.  It did not take me long to decide that perhaps I had not made the right decision.

I could tell by the road signs we were going away from White Plains. In my many lectures I had heard about not being a victim from police officers it dawned on me that you never go to location number two or you never return.  I asked why we were going in the wrong direction and the driver explained that he needed to deliver everyone else first and I would be last.  I wasn't crazy about that thought and there began to be a vote from my fellow passengers as to what they should do. Finally taking me to the hotel first won and the taxi sped back to White Plains. I don't think I took a breath until we stopped in front of the Holiday Inn.

Charles and some of the wedding party were in the bar when I arrived.  I missed the Bachelor dinner but Charles did not seem upset.  He asked if I had a good time and I did tell him about the afternoon and the pleasant train ride.  I did omit the story of what had been a very scary taxi ride as I did not want to look like a total fool for doing something like that.  Jamie kept telling how great the dinner was and how bad it was for me to be a no show.  It did not bother me at the time as I was just thankful to be alive and maybe just a bit proud of myself for getting out of what could have been a very bad situation.

I went to sleep that night thinking about how much fun I had with Erin, how much I loved to be in New York and curious about the actual wedding the next day.  Did you see the movie Crocodile Dundee?  The film had come out the year before and there was a scene where Mike Dundee goes back to New York to meet his girl friend's parents.  The house is huge with a circle drive in front. That was Alder Mansion in Yonkers.

The Alder Mansion was built in 1912, also know as the W.B.Thompson Mansion, as a weekend home all 65,000 square feet of it.  The Thompson family lived there until the mid-20th century and it was willed to the Archdiocese of New York. It became a high school, then a junior college and finally Iona College. Other buildings on the property were repurposed but the mansion fell into neglect.  The Irish American cultural organization bought the mansion and holds events there and rents it out for movies and weddings to raise money for its restoration. It sits 300 feet above the Hudson River with extensive gardens surrounding it. There is even  a tiled swimming pool on the second floor.  

This will be the location of the wedding, the reception, the dinner and the dance the next day.  What a day!

The Best Summer

When I delivered Jean's newly redone hide-a-bed I mentioned that I was going to go pick up Wally at the summer camp he had been attending.  She told me that she and her husband, Jim, had a cottage not very far from the camp.  Since they were going to be up there at the same time I was going to pick up Wally and his friend, Chris, why did I not take an extra day or so and come visit with them. That sounded too good to pass up.

Funny but if I had still been married to Dennis I would never have accepted Jean's invitation.  Dennis would not have gone since he didn't know Jean and he certainly would not have wanted to spend a couple of days in a cottage in the woods.  The "new" me just told Charles I was going to pick up Wally and stay a couple of days with Jim and Jean.  He thought that would be fun for me.

Their place was located a few miles west of the south end of the Mackinaw Bridge. Of all the places I had lived before moving to Michigan there were none more beautiful.  Leaving Detroit and headed north the highway was dotted with small towns almost like ones you see in storybooks.  In between the towns there is nothing but trees and beautiful natural lakes.  If I had a care in the world the scenery could dissolve it twenty miles north of the city.

The location of Jean's cottage - ah, correction - Jean's lovely A-frame home nestled on the side of a hill surrounded by a forest of trees was lovely.  They had built the cottage when their children were small and spent every summer there plus many ski trips in the winter. There was not really a town nearby but on the bank of the lake there was a huge log restaurant and bar where all the people in the area congregated  for food, drink and music.

 The three days with Jean and Jim were really relaxing and fun.  We hiked and swam by day and sat around the campfire each evening.  One of their sons and his family arrived on Friday with his family.  More family stories that made me feel like part of a family that I had missed living away from mine for so many years. It was rather sad to have to head off on Saturday morning to pick up the boys but was invited to come back anytime.

Wally's camp had very interesting instructions as to how to get there.  I was to drive across the Mackinaw Bridge to the Upper Peninsula to Barbeau.  Go to the bar in Barbeau and use the pay phone to call the Pine River Camp which was located on Neebish Island in the middle of the St. Mary's River.  The camp would then send a canoe or a row boat to pick me up.  Those had to be the most interesting instructions on how to get to someplace I had ever heard but in just a few minutes a row boat arrived to take me to the camp.

From the stories Wally had told me through the years about the camp I knew it was not some county club type camp but to see how really rustic it was kind of surprised me. There was a big central kitchen and a lot of small screened cabins for the campers to sleep in.  Everything has a sort of very weathered wood look to it.  The campers bathed in the river and I guess if they ever thought about washing clothes that happened in the river as well.  My reaction to the place was how cool it was!

The boys were  glad to see me and had fun taking me on a tour of the camp.  I am not sure how excited they were for camp being over and having to go home.  One of Wally's favorites parts of the camp was being taken to Lake Superior Provincial Park in Canada for real wilderness camping.  The cost of the camp was not cheap but to see Wally grow in self-confidence and an awareness of nature was well worth the price.

The ride home was lots of fun with Wally and Chris's stories about what they did and all the new friends from all over the country that they had made. We did have to keep the windows of the Bronco open as we flew down the highway.  There was a rather distinct aroma of clothes that had not been washed in three weeks floating through the air. 

Back home it was back to work for me, Wally hanging out with his friends, a couple of camping weekends with Charles and Bowser and Wally made a few trips to Cleveland to see his Dad and Wes popped up at our house for visits.  The big news for Wes was that he finally turned eighteen and the race car was ready to drive.

In September Wally started high school at Seaholm High School in Birmingham.  It was an interesting school in that you could find kids of every nationality and many different languages among the 1300 students. I was never real sure how comfortable he felt with changing schools so many times. But Seaholm was certainly considered one of the best high schools in the state.  Would you believe the official mascot was The Maple Leaves?

In early September Wally and I drove to Norwalk, Ohio to watch Wes get his NHRA Competition license and race for the first time.  I could not remember a moment of Wes's life when the only thing he wanted to do was to drive a race car. Since he was old to enough to draw race cars were the only thing he drew.  He never missed a chance to go to the drag races and he would disappear.  Dennis always worried he would get run over, I figured if he did someone would come and tell us as he had met and talked with every race driver at every race we had ever been to.

It was really a fun evening and just the beginning of watching Wes fly down the track through the years.  People would ask me if I was worried about him going so fast.  Actually I wanted him to go faster as that was his dream.

If I had to pick one of the most fun summers I ever had that would be the one.  There was one exception however that I have left out.  Maybe I should just not tell the story but then THE WEDDING triggered some very important events.