The Bartons- Our Neighbors
Philadelphia PA
1962- 1970
They lived next door to us, Don and Mary Lou Barton and
their 10 kids; Michael, Tommy, Susie, Jimmy, Donnie, John, Joey, Mary Lou,
Peter and Murphy. Don was a civil engineer. Marylou was a former actress who
left the stage to get married. He was quiet and she could talk so fast it was
exhausting just listen to her. She never took a breath and spoke faster than
the speed of sound.
He ruled with an iron fist. A discipline regiment was designed,
implemented and maintained by him. Every morning everyone got up at the same
time and had oatmeal for breakfast every day of the week except Sunday. On
Sunday Donnie Jr was allowed to purchase a package of those boxed variety sugared
cereal which he sold to his siblings for a small profit. Donnie Jr had
presented this idea to his dad who was so impressed with his son’s
entrepreneurship that he decreed that only Donnie could have the market on the
sugared cereal.
Every day everyone went to school. There were no exceptions
unless someone was knocking on deaths door and there was no debate of this
issue. The house cleared out on time every day every year.
After school the boys had to practice basketball as they
were going to play basketball in high school. As this was going to get them a
college admissions advantage. When Mr. Barton came home from work, he walked
right down the driveway to the baseball court. He took his suit jacket and tie off, rolled up
the sleeves of his white shirt and coached the boys on shooting techniques and
blocking skills.
Dinner was the same time every night. And the five minutes before that designated
time, he would stand on the back porch steps and whistle with a shrill that
could be heard around the neighborhood. Within minutes all the kids came in
running, entering through the back door, never through the front door as they
weren’t allowed to use the front door.
After dinner everyone had a chore and once finished it was
time to report to the study room on the third floor. The study room was empty except
for the large table and 8 wooden chairs. Everyone took their place and worked
for their homework. He patrolled around the room, answering math questions and
pushing them to try harder. Everybody was on task.
My brothers love to torture the Barton boys at this time. So
Jimmy and Chris would go up to their bay window, open up the window and call
out to distract the Barton boys. Inevitably one of them would respond and raise
his head to check out the situation. Add that action would be corrected by a smack
on the side of the head from Mr. Barton. And my brothers would just sit there,
enjoying their cigarettes and keeping score on how many of the brothers they
could do lure into their trap.
Mr. Barton cut everyone’s hair. On the first day of summer
all the boys got buzz cuts. He dyed Mrs. Martin’s long blonde hair and trimmed
the girls’ hair as well.
The boys were athletic and always breaking bones. There was
a rule of thumb if you could walk to the hospital, get a someone to go with you
and get to the hospital. A foot injury warranted the use of the red wagon. A
broken leg involved parental intervention.
It wasn’t that the parents didn’t care. But Mr. Barton work too far
away. And Mrs. Barton didn’t drive and she always had young kids underfoot and
she run a daycare center in her home so she couldn’t leave the house.
Mrs. Barton was high strung, high energy, and a bundle of
nervous energy. She always wore high heeled shoes which eventually ruined her
foot structure as a result. After a while she couldn’t wear anything but heels
which looked comical when she was walking on the beach. She had lots of
beautiful gold jewelry that she bought for herself with her babysitting money.
This money was not shared with anybody. It all went to her jewelry fund.
The Bartons only live next door to us for eight years. But
Mr. and Mrs. Barton were very good friends with my parents for 40 years. And
they stayed good friends until they were all dead. Even in their death they are
neighbors. My mother died first. When Mrs. Barton saw where my family’s burial
plot was, she announced right there at the gravesite “Don I want our plot right
here by my good friend Jackie. I want to be her neighbor in heaven.”
And so it was done. They bought a plot right near my parents
and so now the Bartons and the Kellys rest together forever.
To read more stories, check out: bkmemoirs.blogspot.com
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