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Dewey Street Days
More Memories of Regina
By Raymond Pavlak, Winsted
My sister Regina wasn't only thoughtful about taking our family places. She knew the Dewey Street guys. This was not only from having lived on Wolcott Avenue, but from once owning and living in the house were Art Galaise and his family had lived. During that time she became friends with Bobby Meyer's mother and family, who lived next door.
So at times when we needed a ride to play baseball or basketball against another team, she would pack as many of us in the car as possible and go. I remember the day we had a game scheduled with the Bristol Boys' Club basketball team at their court. It was snowing pretty hard, the roads were in poor shape, and our team—with the grandiose name of West End All Stars—didn't have anyone willing to drive us. No one, that is, but Re, who understood our disappointment. She told me to round up the team and we piled six or seven of us into the DeSoto, hoping that would be enough to get us through the four quarters of the game. I can only remember Bob Meyer and myself being there for sure, and I think Roger Fecteau and Dick Dwan were with us as well. We won (just about) a close game and made it back home safe and happy. In those days it took more than snow to deter Re or us.
Another of the exciting rides that Re took us on was to New York to watch the Yankees play the Cleveland Indians. Getting to see the game was thrilling because, even though Bob Feller didn’t pitch, we got to see him working out in the field to stay in shape. I was in awe of him after hearing and scoring his no-hit game against my Yankees while sitting on Bobby Meyer's side porch on a summer afternoon earlier in the season. Why, even Joe D. couldn’t touch him, and fleet-footed Snuffy Stirnweiss was thrown out trying for a bunt single to break up the no-hitter.
More memorable than the game that afternoon, however, was my first ride over a superhighway, including the beautiful Merritt Parkway, on the way to Yankee Stadium. But I must confess that the most exciting part of the trip was traveling under the "El" on Lexington and Jerome Avenues. It was exciting to this country bumpkin to be negotiating traffic that was moving around the huge pillars supporting the tracks and trains, which we could see and hear above us. The other major challenge was finding the stadium and then finding an on-street parking space to save money.
These adventures that I have been describing were made possible by a person with the most generous heart I have ever known, my sister Re. An event that typifies her spirit could be called "The Christmas Gift."
After Judy and I were married in 1953, we spent a lot of happy times with Re and her family, who lived at Tyler Pond in Goshen. During those years, we knew Re had to struggle to find the money to buy Christmas presents for the kids of our large extended family, and we never expected her to give us anything. In fact, even though we enjoyed picking out a dress for her, we made it clear that we did not expect nor did we really want her to spend her hard-to-come-by money to get us a present.
Re paid this no mind, and presented a nicely wrapped box that Christmas Eve. Not wanting to appear unappreciative, we took it home. When we opened it in front of the tree on Christmas Day, all we could do was to look in amazement and whisper, "Oh no!" The box was filled with S&H Green Stamp books ready to be traded for products. Judy and I turned to each other and said, "How generous, but we really can't accept them." In driving to Re's house later, we talked of how long it must have taken to fill that dozen stamp books and how much more she needed what they could be traded for than we did. In truth we were doing fairly well, even though I was only a teacher; I did have a summer job, which really made a difference.
Along with saying thanks, we each gave Re a big kiss and hug to show her how much we loved her and appreciated the most selfless Christmas Gift we had ever received.
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