Easter Sunday, New York City, 1949

Well, I promised you the stories of my family and this is one of them. It is the story of how I ended up being me. Sorry kids, not the story of my conception, that wouldn't happen until 1953. It was the day my Mom and Dad met. It is an unlikely story of time and chance. How sometimes things happen and like ripples alter the surface of a pond, chance meetings change lives.

Mom is from Waterford, Connecticut a small town just to the west of New London. Mom worked at a plant packing olives into jars. You know those pretty jars where all the olives point the same direction around the outside so you can see the stuffing. You didn't think that happened by accident, did you? She told me she hadn't moved up to stuffing Marciano cherries in a jar. That was the other product at the plant. She had a long weekend because of the Easter holiday. A friend from high school named Jane Seymore invited her to come visit her in Havre de Grace, Maryland. No, it wasn't THAT Jane Seymore. Miss Seymore's father worked for the government as a manager of public housing. He had been transferred from Connecticut to Maryland and was taking care of things at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Mom boarded the Greyhound bus in New London and made the trip south for a long weekend. They went down to Washington, D.C. to see the sights and tour the National Cathedral which was under construction. The construction began on September 29, 1907 when the foundation stone was laid in the presence of President Theodore Roosevelt. Construction ended in 1990 when the final finial was placed in the presence of President George H. W. Bush. That concludes today's history lesson. Easter Sunday and coincidentally my Mother's birthday, she boards the bus headed back to New London. The trip in both directions requires a connection at the bus terminal in New York City. There was so much traffic that Mom missed her connecting bus in New York City.

Dad had enlisted in the United States Navy and having completed basic training was sent to New London to attend submarine school. He was granted a weekend leave and had gone to New York City on the train. He had purchased a one way ticket. One at this point would reasonably ask why? There is normally a financial benefit to buying a round trip ticket. It was a good thing for me that he did not. Being a sailor in New York City he had enjoyed the sights and sounds of the Big Apple too much and did not have enough money left to buy a train ticket. I asked Mom if they had talked at all at the bus station and she said no. He was behind her in line to get on the bus and helped her with her suitcase. It was a busy day for bus travel and the only seats left were in the back. They ended up sitting next to each other. She said that Dad talked all the way back and she was sitting there wondering if he would ever shut up. The bus would travel through Waterford on the way to the bus station in New London. Since it would go up the Boston Post Road on the way, it would go right by her parent's house where she was living. She  asked the driver if he would let her off there and he did so. Dad had not asked her for a date and she thought that was the end of the story. He was just a chatty sailor on a bus. He had asked her about her family and remembered her father's name. Armed with that information and knowing her address from the conversation with the bus driver he found her phone number in the telephone book. He called the next weekend and asked her out to see a movie. She can't remember which movie they saw or even which theater.

They started dating after that and eventually Dad flunked out of submarine school. It was a physical thing. The air pressure in a submarine varies widely as the submarine dives and surfaces. My Father was unable to get his ears to "pop" to relieve the pressure. He was transferred to Newport, Rhode Island and placed on a destroyer crew. The first tour out they went to Newfoundland and Cuba. He and Mom continued to see each other when he was able to get back down to Connecticut. He made another tour of duty through the Mediterranean and when he returned told Mom he didn't want to go on another tour without being married to her.

So that is the story. Time and chance. If the traffic is lighter Mom makes her connecting bus and he is on the next one. No meeting. If he buys a round trip train ticket they don't meet. If she is not directly ahead of him in the line to get on the bus they don't sit together. If he forgets her father's name, where she lives, or other vital details, no meeting. If they don't meet, no Jeff. Chance, Fate, the Invisible hand of God? You can draw your own conclusion. I'm just a happy result of a coincidential meeting of a midwestern farm boy in submarine school out east and an olive packer on holiday visiting her high school friend. Thanks Greyhound!!!!!!!