Making Our Split-Level a Home
I have some memories of the new house in East Brunswick from when we first moved there. There were smooth hardwood floors throughout, white walls, and original builder’s tiling in the kitchen and downstairs in the foyer and rec room.
One time, we were in the living room and we were looking forward to Dad’s returning from McDonald’s with dinner for all of us. I was playing on the shiny hardwood floor as Mom looked on from the couch.
“Age of Aquarius” by The Fifth Dimension
Fifth Dimension – The Age of Aquarius
Here is a beautiful likeness of a classic McDonald’s stand created by Robert Rowe. Click here to view his work. It matches my foggy memories of the McD’s of yesteryear, and it was quite a find when searching for an image to post here.
I have hazy recollections of our walking up to the takeout window of the McDonald’s on Route 18 North, near Racetrack Road. My parents would order from their relatively-limited menu, as I gazed upward toward the adults. I remember the red and white tiles on the outside of the building, and the big sign out front boasting Millions Served.
All McD’s franchise takeout stands were enlarged to accommodate an eat-in area sometime in the early to mid-‘70s.
Another time, as I am told, I was toddling about the living room floor, on the main level. Suddenly demonstrating a peculiar penchant for hang gliding, I found myself airborne down the 6 steps toward the rec room.
Mom, sitting on the couch feeding my brother, screeched “VIN!” Dad, who was working in the closet just next to the stairs down there, instinctively reached to the right and retrieved me from certain destruction with shortstop precision.
How I howled … and avoided all stairs for quite some time after that, according to Mom’s journal.
Mom watched the very first episode of Sesame Street with me when I was a toddler, and we both fell in love with Jim Henson’s Muppets and the educational cartoons, skits and gags. It was a happy time for us as young children.
“The Tears Of a Clown” by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles
Smokey Robinson – Tears Of A Clown
In the summer of 1970, Dad put up a swing set in the big, fenced-in back yard.
It had a baby swing for Steven and a big-girl swing for me, a sliding board, a “whirly-bird”—a freestanding spinning see-saw-like contraption, and a four-seater glider.
That day, Mom made me take a nap in Dad’s bed while he installed the swing set, and I could barely rest because of the excitement. Of course, Dad had to do it the right way and include concrete at the footings.
I would eventually swing so high I could jump way into the air, as if I were flying, and land nimbly on my feet. We spent many evenings rocking on that glider, as Mom read to us or singing, as the hidden crickets softly buzzed nearby.
Next door was an older home, where the Garfinkels lived (the “Mr.” can be seen walking in the photo).
They had two young children, Dina and Dean, close to our ages. My mother once said that Mr. Garfinkel had “connections” and was murdered. The family moved away sometime after that.
Some “new age” lady moved in next, followed by the Murthas, who had three boys. Their mother was really nasty and screamed at us, “you leave my kids alone” even though her angels Billy, Bobby and Allen were the mischievous hellions … not us.
I was glad when they moved away. It wasn’t until the late ’70s when the house was purchased long-term by the parents of my future friends, Joan and Leslie.
“Summer Breeze” by Seals & Crofts
Seals & Crofts – Summer Breeze
My father, Master Carpenter
Dad began finishing the basement using his carpentry skills, and I can remember hearing the shrill whine of the Craftsman table saw beyond the basement door.
Over time, there were walls for a laundry room, storage and quite an elaborate workshop, even more impressive than the one Dad built in the Old Bridge house. Mom was delighted with the new construction. In went a ceiling with recessed lighting, and paneling throughout.
His workshop featured mounted tools such as an electric grinder and heavy-duty vise, drawers, cabinets with lights in them, built-in shelving and nooks for every tool and necessity possible. It was beautiful. I look at photos of Dad’s carpentry work today and just marvel at his talent for design and workmanship.
Everything he did had such an expert and polished flair, and it was done right.
Dad has said that he observed his Uncle Edmund over the years, who also had a raw talent for carpentry, and learned from him. Uncle Edmund had repaired the Colden Street, Newark house following a fire, and also remodeled the building where Granddaddy had his tavern on Warren Street.
“Just You ‘n Me” by Chicago
Dad’s touches were apparent throughout our home. There were special lights that automatically switched on in all the closets and cabinets around the house, and Dad upgraded wiring, switches, sockets and light fixtures as needed.
He eventually re-tiled the kitchen back splash, put in a kitchen fan on the outside-facing wall and a light above the sink, installed an octagonal window in the living room, modified the garage door to eliminate the windows, and added folding doors at the top and bottom of the stairs among many other modifications. He also installed a large permanent wall air conditioning unit in the living/dining room area.
The garage also soon featured ingenious shelving in back to allow for the full length of the ’66 Caddy. Dad also added a little “open/close” door in the front door, in place of the tiny original peep hole, and an electric “ding-dong” chime with two warm tones, which replaced the builder’s “clunk-clunk” bell.
What Dad didn’t do in that house!
