family history, part twelve
Or if you prefer, the wedding, part three. . .
So it came to pass that Roosevelt Barrington, my father, The Bastard, found himself climbing down a dingy elevator shaft with a cracked and dimming flashlight in Old Grandad's, his father's, office building during a freak power outage that apparently impacted the entire city of New York. He never was a very lucky bastard. Or at least he was never the lucky part.
He was climbing down to meet his soon to be bride, Catherine Adler, my mother, so that the wedding could proceed.
This was at the insistence of Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, who was drunk and hopped up on morphine. By this time in her life she had already turned to both narcotics and alcohol to help her cope with Old Grandad's assholish and philandering ways. She nervously drained the silver flask of vodka she kept in her purse as soon as the lights went out. In her altered state she was certain that the plunge into darkness signaled the end of the world was at hand and that this was God's punishment for allowing her eldest son, whom she believed to be as devout in her Christian beliefs as was she, to marry a Jew. While most by today's standards might find this shocking, or even offensive, you can not fault Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, for her beliefs. If you try you to do so I will see your ass in court and you will be writing me a big check. Just ask those bottom feeding scum sucking bastards at the National Enquirer about what happened to them in the 90's if you doubt me.
As the daughter of an influential U.S. Senator, Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, had grown up in a very conservative household. You were either saint or sinner, there was no doubt in her mind as to which side you were on. In time she grew to view and love Catherine, my mother, as a second daughter who was never as disappointing as her biological daughter, my Aunt Olphelia. She once told me she never went to bed without first praying for my mother's unsaved soul.
And besides, Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, had been married to an egocentric, arrogant, domineering, strong-willed man with delusions of grandeur for twenty some years now. She had no fear of a deity with those same characteristics. She was adamant that the wedding proceed, if for no other reason than in her own mind to spite an angry God whose personality as described in her King James Bible bore an almost frightening resemblance to her husband's.
In a rare moment when the two of them actually agreed on something, Old Grandad was equally insistent. He had been working hard to change his anti-Semitic image and was not going to let a little thing like the Great Blackout of 1965 alter his plans. He had a Thursday meeting scheduled with some prestigious East Coast bankers to secure funding for a factory expansion. There was a war brewing and business prospects were looking up. He was certain things would bode better if he could go to the banker meeting as a member of one of their twelve tribes, if only through the marriage of his son.
So Roosevelt went down into the darkness of the elevator shaft.
He slipped once about halfway down on a grease spot on the ladder. He dropped the flashlight, caught himself and cursed the God that made him, banging and bloodying his shin in the process. As the flashlight crashed on top of the elevator car and went out, Catherine screamed hysterically one more time. He let forth a string of expletives that caused both Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, and Granny Adler to blush. After another minute or two he somehow managed to make it safely down and lowered himself into the stranded elevator car where Catherine was waiting by the light of a candle.
Finally, the key players were in place and the wedding that was the pivotal moment in so many lives and the reason for my own was set to occur.
The District Court Judge who was presiding stood at the open elevator door. The assembled guests and family members lined up on either side in the lobby. With the absence of Catherine, my mother, the bride, Uncle Randolph was the most fabulously dressed person in the room. He stood next to the Judge, as did the Best Man whose name I can't recall. They acted as surrogates for the ceremony.
By now the patience of all, as well as his own time had grown short. The District Court Judge knew that with the power out the looting was already underway and he was in for a long night as New York's finest did their best to stem the tide of criminality that was in danger of engulfing The City. The District Court Judge skipped over the formalities and went straight to the "Do you take this . . . " part of the ceremony.
From below in the stranded elevator, Roosevelt, my father, The Bastard, and Catherine, my mother, shouted up their "I do's".
When the Judge said, "you may now kiss the bride", Uncle Randolph, Handy Randy, lept in his high heels and designer gown upon the Best Man and embraced him with both arms and lips. The two men tumbled to the floor in the lobby as the Best Man squirmed to get away.
Old Grandad groaned with both relief and disgust as he turned towards The Retired Colonel. Old Grandad swiped a newly opened bottle of Kentucky bourbon from The Retired Colonel's hand. He took several hearty swigs as he walked across the room holding the bottle in one hand and twirling his walking stick with the other. He fumbled with his keys for a moment then disappeared inside The Club.
As he went in, Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, loudly praised Jesus. Whether it was because her husband had left or her son was married we will never know. Old Man Adler continued to stand there with a confused look on his face, wondering if now that he was part of the family he should follow Old Grandad. The Retired Colonel gave him a slight gentleman's nod and the two men walked across the room, through the door, and into The Club.
From down below the stranded sounds of Catherine, my mother, and Roosevelt, my father, The Bastard, consumating their new union could already be heard. What else is there for a couple of newlyweds to do while stuck in an elevator?
Nine months later, in August 1966, my older brother Rupert was born.
So it came to pass that Roosevelt Barrington, my father, The Bastard, found himself climbing down a dingy elevator shaft with a cracked and dimming flashlight in Old Grandad's, his father's, office building during a freak power outage that apparently impacted the entire city of New York. He never was a very lucky bastard. Or at least he was never the lucky part.
He was climbing down to meet his soon to be bride, Catherine Adler, my mother, so that the wedding could proceed.
This was at the insistence of Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, who was drunk and hopped up on morphine. By this time in her life she had already turned to both narcotics and alcohol to help her cope with Old Grandad's assholish and philandering ways. She nervously drained the silver flask of vodka she kept in her purse as soon as the lights went out. In her altered state she was certain that the plunge into darkness signaled the end of the world was at hand and that this was God's punishment for allowing her eldest son, whom she believed to be as devout in her Christian beliefs as was she, to marry a Jew. While most by today's standards might find this shocking, or even offensive, you can not fault Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, for her beliefs. If you try you to do so I will see your ass in court and you will be writing me a big check. Just ask those bottom feeding scum sucking bastards at the National Enquirer about what happened to them in the 90's if you doubt me.
As the daughter of an influential U.S. Senator, Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, had grown up in a very conservative household. You were either saint or sinner, there was no doubt in her mind as to which side you were on. In time she grew to view and love Catherine, my mother, as a second daughter who was never as disappointing as her biological daughter, my Aunt Olphelia. She once told me she never went to bed without first praying for my mother's unsaved soul.
And besides, Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, had been married to an egocentric, arrogant, domineering, strong-willed man with delusions of grandeur for twenty some years now. She had no fear of a deity with those same characteristics. She was adamant that the wedding proceed, if for no other reason than in her own mind to spite an angry God whose personality as described in her King James Bible bore an almost frightening resemblance to her husband's.
In a rare moment when the two of them actually agreed on something, Old Grandad was equally insistent. He had been working hard to change his anti-Semitic image and was not going to let a little thing like the Great Blackout of 1965 alter his plans. He had a Thursday meeting scheduled with some prestigious East Coast bankers to secure funding for a factory expansion. There was a war brewing and business prospects were looking up. He was certain things would bode better if he could go to the banker meeting as a member of one of their twelve tribes, if only through the marriage of his son.
So Roosevelt went down into the darkness of the elevator shaft.
He slipped once about halfway down on a grease spot on the ladder. He dropped the flashlight, caught himself and cursed the God that made him, banging and bloodying his shin in the process. As the flashlight crashed on top of the elevator car and went out, Catherine screamed hysterically one more time. He let forth a string of expletives that caused both Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, and Granny Adler to blush. After another minute or two he somehow managed to make it safely down and lowered himself into the stranded elevator car where Catherine was waiting by the light of a candle.
Finally, the key players were in place and the wedding that was the pivotal moment in so many lives and the reason for my own was set to occur.
The District Court Judge who was presiding stood at the open elevator door. The assembled guests and family members lined up on either side in the lobby. With the absence of Catherine, my mother, the bride, Uncle Randolph was the most fabulously dressed person in the room. He stood next to the Judge, as did the Best Man whose name I can't recall. They acted as surrogates for the ceremony.
By now the patience of all, as well as his own time had grown short. The District Court Judge knew that with the power out the looting was already underway and he was in for a long night as New York's finest did their best to stem the tide of criminality that was in danger of engulfing The City. The District Court Judge skipped over the formalities and went straight to the "Do you take this . . . " part of the ceremony.
From below in the stranded elevator, Roosevelt, my father, The Bastard, and Catherine, my mother, shouted up their "I do's".
When the Judge said, "you may now kiss the bride", Uncle Randolph, Handy Randy, lept in his high heels and designer gown upon the Best Man and embraced him with both arms and lips. The two men tumbled to the floor in the lobby as the Best Man squirmed to get away.
Old Grandad groaned with both relief and disgust as he turned towards The Retired Colonel. Old Grandad swiped a newly opened bottle of Kentucky bourbon from The Retired Colonel's hand. He took several hearty swigs as he walked across the room holding the bottle in one hand and twirling his walking stick with the other. He fumbled with his keys for a moment then disappeared inside The Club.
As he went in, Grandma Milly, God rest her soul, loudly praised Jesus. Whether it was because her husband had left or her son was married we will never know. Old Man Adler continued to stand there with a confused look on his face, wondering if now that he was part of the family he should follow Old Grandad. The Retired Colonel gave him a slight gentleman's nod and the two men walked across the room, through the door, and into The Club.
From down below the stranded sounds of Catherine, my mother, and Roosevelt, my father, The Bastard, consumating their new union could already be heard. What else is there for a couple of newlyweds to do while stuck in an elevator?
Nine months later, in August 1966, my older brother Rupert was born.
posted by dr noyz @ 11:13 PM
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