Mr. Turresey

Mr. Turresey

Woodbine Avenue

Philadelphia PA

1962 to 1972

The Turreseys lived next-door to us, in a neighborhood filled with kids and big homes.  They were older. So their kids were grown and out of the house.  But they kept their big, old house all to themselves. Mr. Turresey was a lawyer. Mrs. Turresey stayed home and took care of the house and the animals.

They had a big old dog names Spot and a cat named Peter Miller. I laughed every time I called him Peter Miller. Nobody ever called him Pete or Peter.  It was always his full name, Peter Miller. And now when I meet an adult by the name of Peter Miller I laugh because that’s a cat’s name.

Every Saturday Mr. Turresey took my brother and one or two of the Hunt boys and they drove around to every local grocery store and scooped up all the stale bread. Then they took all that bread to orphanages and convents around the city. Then Mr. Turresey took the boys to a diner for a big breakfast. I always wanted to go on one of these adventures but was never invited because I was a girl. Mr. Turresey thought all this hauling was men’s work only.

When I had to sell Girl Scout cookies, I went to Mr. Turresey's house. He bought 100 boxes of cookies every year. All those cookies went to the orphanages and convents. He was a kind man.

One winter, he tied dozens of red roses on his rose bushes.  In the snow, these blooms looked like a miracle.  All day long, passing cars slowed down and did a double take and he thought that was so damn funny.

Sometimes, he walked around in big, rubber feet.  He looked ridiculous but it was funny.  He had face masks that he often wore on Halloween. He would scare little kids with this monster face.  Once the kid started to cry, he took the mask off.  But he wasn’t the most handsome of men.  So, his natural face was just as scary as his mask.

I remember the last time I saw Mr. Turresey. I was a senior in high school. He stopped by to speak to my mother on his way home from work. He had his briefcase with him. He told my mother he was so busy at work and asked if she wanted to see what he was working on. She said yes. We huddled around his briefcase. He popped open the briefcase and some silly plastic monkey sprung out from inside the case. We jumped in fright and laughed and laughed and so did he. He gathered up his monkey, stuck it back in his briefcase and said goodbye. I could tell he was so proud of himself for fooling us.

A few days later, he died. He had a heart attack. He was an odd ball and I missed it. I missed his kindness. I missed his silliness. But mostly, I missed his selflessness