Gotta Love our Moms :-)

His mom used to get him very practical gifts as a child. Socks, shirts, etc… Usually some type of clothes. A young boy does NOT like clothes, so he was never particularly happy with those gifts. His Aunt Anne asked him every year what he wanted for his birthday and every time he would say, "Anything but clothes." Yet, every year she too would give him clothes. Well, one year his Aunt Francis, his mom’s other sister, gave him $2. $2!!! That was HUGE in the 1950s! It was like $20 today. When his allowance at that time was 10 cents, $2 was unbelievable!! His mom saw that he got that money and said, "Here, I’ll take care of this for you." And she went out and bought him socks with it. SOCKS! Like he said, "I could’ve bought 2 boxes of baseball cards with that money and she bought me socks!!". He said he still hasn’t forgiven her for that. Poor guy.

Creative!

Gramps could obviously be very creative when it came to Christmas presents. There was the ashtray incident I spoke of earlier. And, then another year it was a certain reminder of an earlier mishap with one of his kids. Dad’s brother Carl had a tendency to get in trouble and find mischief at every turn. One time he had decided to jump off his friend’s porch and accidentally broke his arm in the process. Well, that Christmas one of Carl’s presents was his x-ray. "Since your xray cost so much, we figured we’d give it to as a gift." Gramps told him. I love his sense of humor!

Thank You For Not Smoking

As I said in the entry below, there was a Christmas where dad didn't get off as lucky as he did that year. One Christmas he ended up with only a single present. And, it was definitely NOT what he asked Santa for. He was about 11, maybe 12 at the oldest, and all summer he and his brother had taken to smoking. There was an empty lot across the street next to the school and they would climb up the tree, hide there and smoke and curse and do things they thought made them extra cool. Well, one day in September, their sister Debbie was supposed to come get them and have them come home for supper. Well, she saw them smoking and said, "I saw what you did and I'm telling!". Plus, little did they know, but their mom had also seen them. They went home for supper, fully expecting to be in HUGE amounts of trouble from their dad, but he didn't say a word. Hmm... they thought.... maybe Debbie didn't rat us out after all. And, it was apparent that their mom hadn't said anything either, because nothing was said that night or many, many nights to follow. They got away with it! Four months later, Christmas rolls around. It was Christmas Eve night and my dad and his brother and sisters opened their presents on Christmas Eve in the evenings after supper, instead of Christmas morning. His dad would always bring out bags that had their presents in them. And, dad said that Gramps always gave them toys and cool stuff, where as their mom would give them socks and shirts and things like that. So, the time had come when Gramps brought out the bags. They were excited to see what great things he got them that year. As they were handed the gift, wrapped up in paper, they quickly opened it to see what they got. Inside they didn't find the newest baseball game or a new truck. No. Instead, both Carl and Dad opened up their gift to find an ashtray inside. "Thought you got away with it, didn't you?" Grandpa said to them. They were shocked! After all those months of nothing, they thought surely their summer indiscretions were just a thing of the past and here the product of their deeds was sitting in their hands. They cried and cried as they realized that they had been caught and that their punishment was a Christmas without presents. Only a single ashtray to last for another 365 days. At their weeping, their mom said, "Oh Carl, give them their presents." Gramps had gotten them REAL presents that year, but the point had been made. Dad still isn't sure if his mom or his sister told his dad about what they saw. But whoever did was responsible for helping aid his dad in making a very lasting impression on a 11 yr old that Christmas Eve back in the late '50s. Something he still remembers over half a century later.

Spit Wads

That same year dad was suspended from school. This teacher, that I mentioned in the previous entry, thought that if she needed the class’ attention, all she had to do was stand at the front of the class with her arms crossed and that they would settle down. Well, obviously that didn’t work and soon they were causing all sorts of ruckuses. Just a day before Christmas break was to start, dad was taking jaw breaker boxes, chewing them up, and making spit wads, which he was spitting across the room. Another teacher, Mrs. Forneron was walking by and saw him do this. As she walked into class, he spit one and it actually hit her on the left breasticle (as he points out). She immediantely called him out to the hall and was talking to him about these spit wads. Well, as any young NJ boy would talk, he answered her questions with "Yea". "Yes, Ma’m" she would correct him in saying. Well, he didn’t catch on and after he answered with a few more "yea’s",. she decided that he just needed to go home. A half day left before christmas break and he was being suspended for spit wads. Well, she called his dad and told him that "Mark was being sent home early". Which meant, gramps had to walk through the snow 1 mile to pick up dad for being "disruptive". Dad said that walk home was a nightmare. There was no talking, only silence and he knew what was going to happen when he walked in that door. He said Gramps was so mad at him that after his painful punishment he told him he wasn’t getting Christmas that year. Dad panicked! He did everything he could to help his mom out after that, just hoping that she would intercede on his behalf. He helped her finish up the Christmas decorating, anything he could to get on her good side. Well, it must’ve worked, because Gramps recanted and dad got to have his Christmas presents after all. There was a Christmas though, where he wasn’t quite as lucky…. I’ll post about THAT next.

Compass Anyone?

The first year dad was a freshman – yes, he was a freshman twice – he was probably only 4’8", 87 lbs. A tiny little guy. He was in class. Patricia Dunbar sat on his right and Sandy Shepherd sat on his left. He describes Sandy as being a pretty big girl. Several inches taller than he was, as well as several pounds. Anyway, Patricia and her friend Diana Tursi were playing the "Flip the Skirt" game. He said they had both gone to catholic school the year before and were wearing these plaid skirts and to a 15 yr old, plaid skirts and a flip the skirt game were quite enticing to watch. Well, apparently Sandy didn’t like dad watching this and he felt a punch in his left leg. He looks down and finds a compass sticking out of his leg. Sandy had stabbed him!!! He raises his hand and the teacher comes back and he says, "Sandy stabbed me in the leg with her compass!". "Well, what did you do to her?" the teacher asked. Do to her?!! She stabbed me! The teacher walked off and he was left to pull the compass out of his leg and hand it back to Sandy – which he said scared him, because he wasn’t sure what else she’d do with it!

Alberta

Alberta was my grandpa’s cousin. She was really the only relative that Grandpa had – or liked for that matter. Alberta was probably a good 10 yrs younger than Grandpa, but because he didn’t have any brothers or sisters, they were very close. Which meant, Alberta was very close to his family – my dad and his siblings. He says that she was by far their favorite cousin! Why you ask? Well, because every time she would come visit them, she would bring bags of toys for them. Every time! Alberta was single until her late 40s/early 50s and never had children of her own, so she would give all that love to the Drexler kids. She was a secretary at a law firm in Philly and when she would come to visit them, she would take a bus. Dad said he and his brother and sisters would sit on the top step of their house, when they knew Alberta was coming, and wait for her to come. Every time a bus would drive by, they’d look to see if it was her bus. Then, as soon as they saw her walking towards them, they’d run up to her and help her carry the bags she brought. Because, as dad says, she would bring grocery bags full of toys for them. Whether it was Christmas time or the middle of May. She would bring them something and they loved her for it!

Clorox Bin Basketball

Another game that he would play by himself was all about basketball. He was 14 yrs old when he was down in the basement one time, playing a game of basketball, using an old Clorox plastic tub. He’d play this all the time, using a tennis ball as his basketball. He’d pretend he was either the Bulls or the 76ers or some great time he liked. And, he said he got so good, that he could hit a jump shot from almost anywhere in that basement and make the basket. Unfortunately there’s not a lot of call for Clorox bin basketball players. But, anyway, this particular night, he was downstairs playing and his dad turned the basement light off on him and locked the door. So, he stumbled his way out the basement door to the outside – where it was pouring down rain – and went to the front door and started banging. Gramps opened the door, "What’s going on?" "You turned the light off and locked me in the basement!". "Oh," gramps said with a smirk. ;-) So, dad goes to the basement, and tries to turn the light on, but it won’t turn on. When gramps had turned the light off, dad tried to turn it back on by throwing his tennis ball at it and somehow did something to it to make it not want to turn back on again. So, dad, who as you remember is soaked from walking outside in the rain, decides to unscrew the light bulb – while the switch is turned out – with his soaking wet bare feet. And, obviously the concluding effect was that he was shocked REALLY badly! Enough to make all the lights flicker and send him reeling! He walked back upstairs, scared and disoriented and went up to his mom for a hug. He said all he wanted at that point was a hug from his mom, after something that scary. And, Gramps, in true fashion, went up to him and gave him a flashlight and said, "Use this next time." ;-)

King of the Fence

I’ve found in my many discussions with dad, that he talked to himself A LOT! He was very content to play by himself and would talk to himself and make up friends and stories to fit in with whatever he was playing. When he was maybe 11 or 12, he would play a game called "King of the Fence". Across the street from their house was the elementary school called "Downing School". On the right side of the school yard, between the school yard and the house next to it was a fence. It was about 20’ high and he would play this game there. He’d take his wiffle bat and a rubber ball and hit it against the fence. He would do this all day long and if he hit the ball a certain place, it would be a home run or a double or whatever. And, he would announce – out loud! – the game he was playing. "Richie Ashburn is up to bat, hitting. 297 this year, No home runs, but 93 hits this year.." And, this is how he would spend a lot of his time. I’ve always asked him if he hadn’t become a minister, what would’ve been his dream job and he said he would have loved to be a baseball announcer. And, seeing that he started that when he was so young, I can see how great he would’ve been at that.

Don't Hit a Girl

When my dad was in 3rd or 4th grade, he was old enough to have heard from his dad many times to "never hit a girl". So, one day when he was outside of the school, a girl named Gwen was standing near him and he said something to her. He doesn’t remember what it was exactly. Probably something crude, he said, and she hauled off and slapped him in the face! He was in shock, but said to her, "I can’t hit you" – thinking back to those words his father shared with him. "Oh really?" she said and she slapped him again. Well, now it was starting to hurt and he was getting upset, but again he replied, "I can’t hit you". Every time he said this, she’d slap him and he said she must have slapped him 5-6 times before walking away. The crowd around them had gathered and were taunting him. Mortified that he was just beat up by a girl – in front of a crowd of his peers, he walked home crying. When he got home, he burst through the front door, "I can’t believe you told me not to hit a girl!!" he railed at his dad. Somehow thinking if he could blame his dad for getting himself beat up by a girl that it would seem better somehow. "Well, get back out there and hit her back" he heard his dad say. Really? he thought? Wow. So, he went outside and waited in the bushes for her to walk past. He told himself that when she walked past, he would jump out of the bushes, beat her up, and run away. It was a perfect plan. He continued talking to himself, getting himself all ready for his sweet revenge. That is, until he realized a good hour or two had passed, the sun was setting, and she had never walked by. He realized that his revenge would never come and he finally resigned himself to go home, once again defeated. He never did get revenge on Gwen. But, knowing that she was a good foot taller and several pounds heavier than he was, it was probably for the best that he kept his distance. No sense in getting beat up by a girl twice!

Uncle Joe Egitto 1915-2009

This is a picture of my dad's Uncle Joe. He had two uncles. Uncle Joe "Sprat" Sbaraglia, his mom's brother, and Uncle Joe Egitto, who was married to his mom's closest sister Anne. His Uncle Joe died yesterday morning at the age of 94. Dad has lots of great memories of him and though he hadn't really spoken much to him in the past couple of decades, those memories mean so much to him. I've mentioned before about how Uncle Joe would take them to the shore. It's in the entry just a couple below this one. Talking about how his Uncle Joe would pile everyone into his brand new 1957 Chevy, drive them down to the shore (which was a treat, because neither my grandma or my grandpa ever drove). He'd take them out to lunch, buy them taffy, and even give them spending money. He was always patient with them and always kind. The word dad uses all the time when talking about Uncle Joe Egitto is "kind". :-) I actually just found out in reading my aunt's blog and talking to dad tonight that Uncle Joe was an accomplished violinist. I never knew that. You see, I never met either of my Uncle Joes. My Uncle Joe Sprat passed away before I was born. Then Uncle Joe Egitto had split up from my Aunt Anne also before I was born. But, I remember looking through my Aunt Anne's albums and seeing a picture of their wedding day and they were such a beautiful couple. He was incredibly handsome and she was so beautiful, though she never thought she was. And, since I never knew him, it's fun to hear how special he was and kind he was to my dad and his siblings. I also found out that he was a very spiritual guy. Knew his bible backwards and forwards, I'm told. It's so awesome to hear about the strong group of christians that were a part of my family. I'm so thankful for that foundation - not just with my parents, but my grandparents/aunts/uncles/etc.. on both sides of my family. What a legacy to carry on. Pretty special. Dad talked to him for the last time about a year ago and though it was a short conversation, he said he was glad to hear from him and I'm sure he holds the same memories that dad has. I wish I had had the opportunity to get to know him like I did my Aunt Anne, who I loved so very much. But, I know that one day I'll get to meet him in heaven. So, Uncle Joe, it's been fun to hear about you and hear how great you were to my dad and his family. I can only begin to imagine the joy and wonder you are now experiencing in the sight of God.