Wednesday, January 13, 2016

I Just Called to Say I Love You

Let me share a true personal story. I was born February 18, 1939. I recall vividly my growing up years in the mid-1940's through 1957, when I left East St. Louis for Illinois State.

I will not bore you with a lot of junk history but simply make a 'relationship' point; more specifically a 'family-relationship' point.

My father's family (Roustios, his parents and four uncles/aunts) all lived on 56th street in lower Washington Park, a suburb to East St. Louis. That house was located near the railroad tracks that separated Washington Park from Fairmount City. Just across those tracks was two chemical companies where most of the Roustio clan found employment.

My mother's people (Bennett) lived in upper Washington Park within a stone's throw of three sisters and one brother. One sister made her way to employment in our nation's capital.

Many American families of that era likely have a similar story. That all changed with the development of highway systems and distant employment opportunities. We became a very 'mobile' nation.

My brother Tom and wife Vivky spent a number of years in the Dallas/Farmers Branch (Texas) area. Younger brother Marty and wife Denise have made a permanent home in that Texas area. Of course, Gerry and I lived in six different Illinois communities.

Whereas, Gerry and I don't see our children and grandchildren everyday as the 1950 clans did, we nonetheless are most fortunate because hardly a day passes that our adult children don't telephone and now even some of the older grandkids are staying connected to Nana & Boompa.

The 'point:' Family love knows no distance.

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