Back to the Future

Wed, August 26, 2009

I’m at the Westchester Airport eating my last NY bagel and waiting for my plane. My box and extra suitcase of treasures have been shipped via FedEx. I can’t wait to get home and share what treasures I found in Aunt Ida’s apartment! I ended up with a rock collection and some cut glass and china teapots all in the same suitcase. Certainly FedEx will treat these items with the utmost of care. Antique plastic dollhouse furniture, prints of our National Parks, a 1906 printing of Ben Franklin’s autobiography, a set of two lithograph watercolor books from James Audubon printed in 1966 (which weigh 15lbs by themselves), and other little trinkets of Ida’s life. The work of cleaning out the apartment was grueling, and I moved well over 200 bags down to the basement. She saved every letter, card, and bill ever received. She collected many items from the NY Board of Education during her almost 30 year tenure as a school teacher. Reams of paper, boxes of pencils, ink well pen points and the styluses to go with them, craypas by the box, staplers, grade books, class pictures, art supplies, you name it, she had it in volumes! Suitcases of sweaters and towels all individually wrapped in plastic bags and neatly packed. Thirty years of National Geographic and Smithsonian magazines. All her personal items, and that of two of my other deceased aunts, Rose and Ruthie. I had to break into not just one, but two lock boxes. No cash, but more papers of inconsequence.

There were wills for lots of people I have never heard of, and memorial notices for many. In the Jewish tradition, all your family members are remembered on the anniversary of their death with prayers and candles. As you can imagine at 94, she had lots of candles to burn. The looming feeling of death and the lack of the celebration of life lurked throughout the apartment. One line that sticks with me is that you should love life and use things, not use people and love things. Ida was surrounded with things. She collected anything she thought would be of value; things left behind by family members, items disposed of in the trash.

There were 15 rolled up carpet remnants and throw rugs that came from who knows where. Dishes were packed in the cupboards top to bottom and front to back, each individually wrapped in plastic. Not many matching sets of anything in particular. Thousands of books; mostly focusing on Judaica, art, Abe Lincoln, and natural history. Oh, and the cookbooks. Tons of them, along with probably 10 boxes of pots and pans, dishes and utensils marked for dairy, meat, and Passover uses only. My Aunt Carol claims that she never even cooked! Full sets of everything you would need. And dish drainers beyond the one in the kitchen. There were five more of them, all wrapped in plastic and neatly stacked in the top of a closet! Why? Why does anyone need to hoard these type of items? I will never understand! Cigar boxes of little hotel bars of soap and matchbooks (all lined up in order). Nine irons-all in the original boxes, four meat grinders, five can openers. Enough linen for the Hyatt Regency hotel. Enough stuff to outfit at least five homes.

By looking through everything she owned, I was able to really get to know this woman intimately with her having to say a word. From her report cards as a child, to letters from suitors. Notes on a short lived failed marriage in 1959 and how she was so mistreated. How she found her mate late in life, and how much Frank loved her. I got to learn of her college education (of course she saved all her college transcripts and course work at Hunter College, Class of 1942. She travelled the world and was a conservationist who lived in NYC her whole life.

Good use of Alcohol

I was able to connect with several people in the community while living in the apartment. I met her neighbors, Ruth and Abe, who have lived across the hall since 1950 when the building was built (Ida moved to the Amalgamated Co-op in 1951). Others seemed concerned about her, and sent their best wishes to Ida. Unfortunately, I was unable to share that with her, as she is unaware that I was cleaning out the apartment. The porter, Eddie, AKA "Santitation Engineer" and I had a total love-hate relationship. My first run-in with him was on the Monday I was going to Manhattan. With my earphones in I dropped off a metal bookcase down in the trash staging area. As I turned to leave, Eddie, wearing his wife beater T-shirt hollered at me with a thick NY accent “HEY! ARE YOU 9A?” I wanted to run off after leaving all that trash for him to haul off over the weekend. Let’s just say, he had to fix the trash compactor, I dumped about 500 canned goods down the shoot. Silverware, plants, you name it, if it fit, down the shoot it went. I was told “water under the bridge, fagetaboutit, and don’t do that again.” Eddie was willing to work with me, supply me with the proper trash bags for paper, plastic, glass, and general garbage. “Ok, sweetheart, you have a nice day in the city.” It was at least 10 degrees hotter in the basement than the rest of the building. Lucky me, I got the hottest week all summer to do this job. I think I won him over by offering him three cases of liquor that I found, but he was not happy with me, to say the least.

It's her party, and we will cry if we want to!

After a week of cleaning, I got to head back to my Auntie Carol’s home for a reprieve. We were going to celebrate Ida’s 94th birthday at the assisted living facility. When we got there Sunday afternoon, she was wearing this cute dress, something you might see at a traditional Oktoberfest event. We had asked her if she made it, and yes, she had. It looked very well put together and barely worn at all. Later that evening, Carol and I were going through and shredding and sorting papers and pictures. I pulled out an 8x10 black and white photo from 1960 with several family members and showed it to Carol. She looked at it and started to laugh, as Ida was wearing in the picture the exact dress she was wearing for her 94th birthday party! We were in tears, and wished we had photographed her earlier in the day to compare the look. The dress still looks like new, 50 years later!

Just say no to saving junk!

So I guess I can end this trip by sharing this thought. Friday night I cleaned out the storage closet down the hall. I found a locked suitcase (one of several). I had to break into the suitcase. Inside was a box. In the box was a used toilet seat, harvest gold. This toilet seat would not fit her toilet, even if she did need it. Lesson to the people: don’t keep old junk you can’t use. Someday somebody will have to clean it out and will be making fun of you. Don’t let it be YOUR toilet seat in the suitcase!