The Rerouted Skytress

Growing up my family moved several times. Each time we moved my parents had one steadfast rule. They would find the best school district and buy a house in that district. When my Dad was offered another job promotion we moved from Pittsburgh to St. Louis. Before we moved my parents reached out to our friends, Rick and Penny Clatt. The Clatt’s were our neighbors in Cincinnati. They were now living in St. Louis. Actually, they lived in Chesterfield, a suburb of St. Louis. My parents flew to St. Louis on a house hunting trip. While on their trip they visited with Rick and Penny Clatt. My parents questioned the Clatt’s about the best school districts and best locations to live in St. Louis. Long story short, my parents bought a ranch-style house down the street from the Clatt’s. Prior to living in St. Louis, my family lived in two- story homes. So, my Dad promised my Mom they would buy a bigger two-story house after living in the ranch-style house for a year. However, there was one huge problem. My parents had bought the perfect house, in the perfect neighborhood, with the perfect neighbors. The subdivision is called Westbury Manor. It’s similar to Mayberry. Except it didn’t have Sheriff Andy Taylor, Deputy Barney Fife, Opie Taylor or Aunt Bee. We did have a filling station just outside the subdivision. Goober and Gomer Pyle didn’t own it. But, there was an attendant that we called Woodie Woodpecker. So, it’s almost the same. Yessiree. Westbury Manor was our version of Mayberry. It was the perfect place to grow up.

You may be asking yourself why I am writing about Westbury Manor and not about flying. Well, I am the Rerouted Skytress. So every once in awhile I have to reroute my blog posts. I did have a flying blog post I was going to write while I am out on vacation. However, on September 9th we lost a dear friend of the family, Donna Kelly. The days prior to Donna’s passing, I thought a lot about growing up in Westbury Manor. We had a beautiful community of friends that became family. Westbury Manor was not only a safe haven for me. The subdivision was a magical backdrop for creating cherished memories while growing up. You would think such a magical place filled with the most amazing friends would be easy to write about. No siree. I started writing this blog post the night Donna passed away. I’ve rewritten this post several times in my head and on my iPad. Something interesting I’ve learned about these past two years from blogging….it’s easy to write about flying. In contrast….It’s extremely difficult to write about the people and places that mean the most to me. This blog post I am going to share a few stories of growing up in Westbury Manor. I think since Donna was the catalyst for this blog post, I shall start with a story or two about her.

Donna Kelly was an extremely talented artist. I’d like to say my Mom commissioned Donna to paint several pieces for our home. However, I’m almost positive no money was ever actually exchanged between these two friends. Whenever I sit in our living room and write my blog posts I am surrounded by Donna’s exquisite watercolors. Donna didn’t just paint watercolors. No siree. For years, she happily painted my brother Brian’s face for Halloween. I’m not sure if Picasso or Michelangelo would have painted a clown or Dracula face on a giggly little boy, but, Donna did. For my family, having Donna come paint Brian’s Halloween face was much sweeter than a pillowcase full of Halloween candy. I’m not sure how my Mom ever sweet talked Donna into hanging wallpaper in our house while my Dad was gone on a business trip. But, she did. Several times! Actually, I’m sure Donna always offered to help. However, I’ll just leave you all with this. After hanging wallpaper in our dining room….wallpaper that my Dad saw in a nice restaurant and decided it was perfect for our dining room… well, Donna and my Mom never hung wallpaper ever again. Thankfully, Donna and my Mom laughed the whole time they hung the unforgiving wallpaper. Yessiree. They graciously chose to laugh about my Dad’s choice of wallpaper instead of killing my Dad because of it!

I know I have written in previous blog posts about the unsanctioned Westbury Manor Association and their extraordinary love for 40th birthday party celebrations. For those of you who missed the posts….first of all, shame on you. Second of all,…. this association was comprised of our close-knit neighbors who proclaimed themselves to be, “The Westbury Manor Association”. The Westbury Manor Association loved to celebrate everything. So they did just that. You may recall my blog post about my Mom’s 40th birthday celebration. The Association got my Mom a live chicken and a turkey for her birthday theme. Yessiree. She was no longer a spring chicken….She was now an old turkey. For our neighbor Sue Evers’ 40th birthday, the Association got her a pig. You guessed it! “Sue-EE” was this birthday theme. After Sue’s birthday party her kids gleefully put a leash on the pig and walked it around the neighborhood. I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you about Bob Isham’s birthday celebration. Bob Isham was affectionately known as the Captain. He was a Captain and Commander in the Coast Guard Reserve. Interestingly, when he was a young reservist, Bob was chosen to lead his formation in President John Kennedy’s funeral procession. The Association completely admired and respected this fact. Thus, they planned a procession to Bob’s house on his 40th birthday fit for a Commander in the Coast Guard. And what does a Coast Guard Commander need for his birthday theme? Well, a boat of course! Bob Isham had a boat. However, he didn’t have a boat anchored smack-dab in the middle of his front yard. So the Association placed one there for Bob’s 40th birthday. In addition, the Association cemented a highway construction barrier, complete with a blinking light, inside the boat. Yessiree. It was a beacon to all in Westbury Manor that Bob was turning 40!

Bob Isham worked for Monsanto. He was one of several members of the Association that worked for Monsanto. Leo Paradis worked for Monsanto, too. He and his family lived behind the Isham’s. You may recall my blog post about my flight crew going to the Paradis’ house on Christmas Eve to sing Christmas carols. Leo loved music. He also loved Jaguar cars. So he bought himself one. Everyone loved Leo’s Jaguar. Myself included. One day my Mom was talking on the phone to Leo’s wife Julia. My Mom told Julia she needed to call a plumber to fix a leaky drain. Julia told my Mom not to call a plumber. She would have Leo come over to fix the leaky sink drain. Leo wasted no time in coming over. In fact, he jumped in his Jaguar and drove up the street to our house. He rang the doorbell. When my Mom opened the front door Leo was holding a wrench he called, “big red” and declared, The plumber is here!” In a matter of minutes Leo had the plumbing issue fixed. From that day forward my Mom would tell everyone her plumber drove a Jaguar to make house calls.

Leo Paradis wasn’t the only neighbor that made house calls . No siree. Across the street from the Paradis lived the Weyerich’s. Dr. Weyerich was an internist. Thankfully, he was a phone call away for anyone needing medical advice or medical treatment. One day the Weyerich’s telephone rang. Megan Weyerich answered the phone. A man with a distinctly soft spoken voice asked to speak with her father. Megan asked her dad who the man was after Dr. Weyerich hung up the phone. Dr. Weyerich told Megan it was Michael Jackson. Dr. Weyerich had treated him when he was performing in St. Louis. Michael Jackson called to thank Dr. Weyerich for helping him. I thought this was the coolest thing when I was a kid. Heck, I still do!

I’ll admit. The coolest neighbors in my opinion were the Clatt’s and the Kelly’s. Not surprisingly, the Clatt’s and Kelly’s were the two families our family hung out with the most in Westbury Manor. Eventually, we all became one cool family. If love and laughter are two signs of a perfect childhood, well, I grew up with an unlimited supply of both thanks to the Clatt’s and Kelly’s. We shared more meals, attended more sporting events and celebrated more life milestones and everyday simplicities, than I could ever count. We toasted every get-together. Unbeknownst to our parents, one New Years Eve my sister Maureen and Kathy Kelly had their own celebration. Yessiree. My sister Maureen and Kathy were sneaking champagne down to the Clatt’s basement to drink it out of view of the adults and the rest of the party goers. Maureen and Kathy were both in high school at the time. When they got caught, Kathy told her parents that they hadn’t been drinking. She told them she simply had a speech impediment. I though this was hilarious. My sister Maureen wasn’t as quick thinking. All she could say to my Dad as he walked her home on the ice-covered sidewalk was, “I’m sorry, Dad”.

If the Westbury Manor kids weren’t drinking champagne, they were eating dog chews. Yessiree. You read this right. One night when we were having dinner with the Clatt’s, my brother Sean told on himself. Sean informed everyone at the table he thought the beef stick sample that came in the mailbox earlier in the day was beef jerky. He explained he he was really hungry and failed to read the packaging until after he took a bite. He admitted he only read the packaging simply because he thought the beef jerky was awful. He mentally concluded he would never purchase the new product. Sean looked at the package to inquire the beef jerky brand. That’s when he discovered he had consumed a dog chew. I couldn’t contain my laughter. Then Brad Clatt spoke up. He said he, too had done the same thing. I thought a was going to pass out from laughing so hard. I couldn’t believe these two were telling on themselves. But, I was thrilled they were! Yessiree. Dinner was always served with a healthy side of laughter when the Clatt’s and Gaffney’s were eating together. Brad had me doubled-over with laughter another night when our families were having dinner. Everyone was either talking or eating. No one was paying attention to Brad. The next thing we heard was Brad saying, “Hey! Who’s throwing the skewers?” Brad had taken the bamboo shish-kabob skewers and stuck them randomly in his hair. He sat there without cracking a smile. I almost choked on my food it was so unexpectedly hilarious. His Mom and Dad tried not to laugh. But, it was too funny not too. Brad’s brother, Mark, also has a superb sense of humor. Yessiree. It’s definitely genetic. To this day, Mark will send me something that makes me laugh out loud. Believe me. I know I am truly blessed to have brothers with fabulous senses of humor. Brad and Mark may not be my biological brothers like my brothers Sean and Brian. Nonetheless they are my brothers. Heck. Mark and Brad are both kindhearted, smart, successful and extremely hilarious. Obviously, we are related!

Another story I love to tell about growing up in Westbury Manor involves my brother Sean. One day Sean got the courage to ask Annie Roth out on a date. Annie lived up the street from our house. She was also the sister of Sean’s friend Peter. I’ll admit. I was a wee bit shocked when I heard Sean was going out on a date with Annie. I was even more shocked when Sean came home and stated he and Annie would probably never go out on another date. We knew if Sean readily told on himself about the dog chew, he would definitely spill the beans about his date. Thankfully for us he did! Sean admit to us that he got pulled over by the police as soon as he exited Westbury Manor. Yessiree. My brother was so nervous about going out with Annie that he forgot to turn his headlights on. I’m sure if Sheriff Andy Taylor had pulled them over the date would have had a much happier outcome. Now Barney Fife would have thrown the book at Sean saying, “Sniffing out crime, one step at a time”. And, “It’s a wise man who knows not to push the limits of the law”.

Westbury Manor may not be Mayberry, North Carolina. That’s perfectly fine by me. We may not have had Sheriff Taylor or Aunt Bee living in our neighborhood. But, I was surrounded by loving people that could give the folks of Mayberry a run for their money. I like to think we had more laughter in Westbury Manor than they ever did in Mayberry. We definitely had better stories! I have shared stories about growing up in Westbury Manor since I started my blog. I will continue to sprinkle a story here and there in future blog posts. It’s inevitably. God made sure I grew up in Westbury Manor. He put his glorious plan into effect when my parents asked Penny and Rick Clatt about the best places to live in St. Louis. Yessiree. God had my parents buy the perfect house, in the perfect neighborhood, with the perfect people…that are… and always will be…family.