“Levittown gifted us with
beautiful apple trees, with wonderful gnarled branches that were perfect for
climbing. I discovered many wonders of
nature, [including] tadpoles and fish swimming in the stream along the willow-shaded
bicycle trail.” Susan Kirsch
David
Goldfield’s “The Gifted Generation” makes use of personal testimonies of 1961
Samuel J. Tilden High School classmates hailing from the East Flatbush section
of Brooklyn. The progeny of Italian Catholics and Russian Jews not long removed
from New York City’s polyglot Lower East Side slums, “these were not silver-spoon children,” Goldfield wrote; but “they grew up in a golden era” with
opportunities facilitated by families, teachers, peers, and government programs
affecting housing and higher education that made home ownership affordable and
enabled collegians to graduate relatively debt free compared to today. “Pioneers,” Goldfield’s chapter on postwar
suburbanization, mentions intellectuals sneering at the proliferating
subdivisions as sterile, segregated, ticky-tacky communities that, in their
misguided opinion, would inevitably depreciate in value. Labeling places like
Levittown “neatly manicured, fumeless,
pleasantly monotonous bedroom towns,” Harvard anthropologist Peter Wyden
admitted that “just about every kid likes
it here. To him it is a near-utopia with
plenty of room, friendly faces, unlimited hordes of playmates, and no major
menaces.” Most families, Goldfield noted, owned just one car that dad took
to work or the commuter train station; therefore, “automobiles rarely disturbed bicyclists.”
Easton, PA, photos; below, third house in 5 years
Just a
year older than Goldfield, I grew up in a rural Philadelphia suburb after
living my first eight years across from Lafayette in the College Hill
neighborhood of Easton, Pennsylvania (in 1950, the year my family left for Fort
Washington, the industrial city’s population was 35,652, more than ever before
or since). According to family lore, I
once sat down in the middle of busy Cattell Street because my parents wouldn’t
treat me to ice cream and Vic had to nudge me along with his foot. In Fort
Washington, I biked wherever I desired, crossing major arteries such as
Bethlehem Pike, and had much more freedom to roam unchaperoned than kids
today. There were climbing trees aplenty
and woods to explore as an escape from the world of adults. Subdivisions were popping up in surrounding
areas, but most residences on our street, Fort Washington Avenue, dated from
the 1920s or earlier and varied greatly.
While most of my parents’ friends (the Mineharts excepted) were Republicans,
I had black playmates and pals from working class backgrounds.
In
eighth grade my family moved to a subdivision in Beverly Hills, Michigan, north
of Detroit, where homes were new, split-level, close together and nearly
identical. I had a room of my own and a
basement rec room where I played floor hockey.
I spent a summer playing wiffleball and Canasta at “Bink” Gowing’s house
with best friend Paul Turk. Major league
pitcher Billy Pierce was a neighbor. My chief
concerns then were sex, cars, and rock and roll. I started smoking – filtered cigarettes, that
is, marijuana as yet unfamiliar to me.
My parents, having grown up during the Great Depression, valued security
above adventure, but excitement was not lacking in my life. As a young adult, I
rebelled against my parents’ WASP values but, if it is human nature to rebel
against one’s elders, better loving parents like Vic and Midge.
Becca at Trojan Classic
Becca's fans at Trojan Classic
Jimbo and Miranda
Jeremiah Mellen and Scott Hayes (right)
Steve McShane, Amber Wasz, Jimbo; photo by Maurice Yancy
Megan
Reeves and Amber Wasz interviewed me for their bridge project after their
contacts fell through:
(Megan) Dr. James Lane is originally from
Pennsylvania. His father was a very big card player and taught him and his
brother virtually every card game in the book: cribbage, gin rummy, poker,
hearts, spades, SOB, solitaire games that you play by yourself, and of course
bridge. His father was very competitive and would never let them win if they
didn’t deserve it, whether in cards or sports such as ping pong or one-on-one
basketball. He’d get frustrated with Jim’s mother when she wouldn’t
concentrate. If she trumped his ace by accident, for instance, he’d get red in
the face trying to hold his tongue. Dr.
Lane’s great-aunt Ida, a teetotaler who lived with them, played bridge with a
group of ladies and sheepishly asked his mother if she could buy some wine when
it was her turn to host the gathering. Lane
went to Bucknell University in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, during the early
1960’s; in the dorms and fraternity houses there’d be lots of card games going
on. The type of bridge in college was more competitive and reckless and didn’t
strictly follow the rules he was taught at home. Dr. Lane met wife Toni while
in college and encouraged her to play bridge.
(Amber) Knowing that Dr. Lane was a retired
professor at IUN, I wanted to know about how he got on this path. When he was a
child, he loved lawyer shows such as Perry
Mason and thought that’s what he wanted to be. In college, he took a history
class that interested him so much, that he went on a took every history class
offered by this professor (William Harbaugh). At some point the thought of becoming a
teacher crossed his mind. At the time, he thought high school would be a good
place to start, but because there was a draft for the Vietnam war, he continued
his schooling until he earned a PhD.
(Megan) After Dr. Lane finished grad school he and
Toni moved to Indiana. They were looking for some friends that weren’t
academicians and found out about a duplicate bridge game that took place at
Temple Israel in Miller during a week day. He said it was very competitive and
not very social, plus when he got home he couldn’t just fall asleep because he
was replaying hands in his head. They
stopped going, and he didn’t start playing duplicate bridge again until a
couple years ago, although he and Toni have been playing party bridge for many
years with three other couples. At those
functions each person would play four hands with the seven others. A bridge
tally would tell you how to do this. They’d all go out to eat first and start
playing around 5:30 or 6.
When Dr. Lane started playing duplicate, first as
someone’s substitute and now with a regular partner (Dee Van Bebber), the
bidding systems had changed from when he had learned 60 years before. Most of
the people that play are retired and get a lot of intellectual stimulation from
it. Dr. Lane has never been to a big
tournament. A couple people have invited him to go to tournaments but he is not
ready yet. He regrets that most young people are not playing bridge anymore
although, he said, some of the best players at national tournaments are in
their twenties and thirties.
A co-director of IUN’s Calumet Regional Archives, Dr.
Lane told me that as a social historian, he was interested in the history of volunteer
organizations, such as bowling leagues, quilting groups, and bridge clubs. That
is one reason why he started a bridge collection, which will include papers
such as this one. Dr. Lane wants there to be a record for historians of the
future of a time when groups of people gathered to play bridge, participated in
bowling leagues and formed quilting clubs.
(Amber) Dr. Lane talked about how
people are now spending more time at home and there is less interest in being a
part of a club or organization. Back in the day people wanted to get out of
their homes because they were often over-crowded and not air conditioned. Now,
not only with TV but also the internet, people are more likely to stay home.
Kalie
Ostapchuk interviewed bridge player Sally Will, who graduated from Hammond
Gavit and Western Michigan University, and kept this record of their
interaction.
September 18: I met Sally Will at Panera in Highland,
where Sally resides, and worried it might be a little awkward starting a
conversation, but it was almost like I’ve known her my whole life and we were
just talking and going out to lunch. I learned that her family played bridge
all the time when she was growing up and she learned around the age of 12. Her family had a lake house in Michigan, and she
and her cousins would play cards together.
Sept. 19: Sally told me that when she first started
dating husband Rich, she convinced him that he had to play and joked that it
was a deal breaker if he didn’t. So,
eventually Rich learned the game. Rich
recently retired, so she hopes they will have time to play in tournaments
Sept. 21: Sally is part of a bridge club in
Chesterton and also plays with friends for fun.
She pointed out a website that shows points players scored from
different clubs.
September 27: Sally said she has traveled with
people she plays bridge with to Europe, China, Africa, and such states as
Montana. On a train trip out west,
playing bridge made the time go by faster. Rich generally stays home while she goes on
trips. In fact, next week, she will be
going to Europe.
Nov. 8: Back from Europe, Sally said that she had a
great time. When we first met, she told
me that she’d invite me to her house and teach me how to play bridge. Unfortunately, we had completely opposite
schedules, so that didn’t happen. Even
so, Sally taught me a lot considering that at the outset of this assignment I
had absolutely no idea what bridge was and how or who played it.
Jessica
Rebeil wrote about Bridge Newsletter
editor Barb Walczak (above).
Barb
Walczak was born in Gary, Indiana. Her
father was a cook at the steel mill’s hospital.
The family lived in an apartment within the hospital for the first two years
of her life, then moved to New Chicago.
She graduated from Hobart because New Chicago did not have a high school
at the time. At IU she earned a degree
in Elementary Education. While in
college she began playing bridge. Her
family never really played cards except for the game of War sometimes. At Bloomington there was always someone in
the commons eager to start a bridge game. After college, she moved to Hammond
and taught elementary school, mainly fourth and fifth grades. She switched schools a lot but taught the
longest at Lincoln Elementary. Barb said
she did take a few years off to have three children. Some of Barb’s college friends tried setting
up a monthly foursome bridge game, but it was difficult to fit into their busy
schedules. When she retired she took up the game again, like many of the senior
citizens she currently plays with in Highland and other community clubs around
the region. Barb explained that for a
lot of people Bridge has given them a reason to wake up in the morning.
For
the last 12 years Barb has been writing a bridge newsletter, which is the first
of its kind in Northwest Indiana and a labor of love. It presently comes out twice weekly, on
Wednesdays and Saturdays. Many people
like to share the newsletter with their families as a way to show off their
achievements. The newsletters help
players get to know each other. Barb
also has gotten her director certification, teaches Bridge lessons, and is a
chairman for the Northwest Indiana Tournament.
Barb said that her first tournament was in Reno, where she earned a few
gold stars and within nine months became a life master.
Barb
also takes the pictures for the newsletter and has at least 2,000 photos stored
on her camera. If she needs a picture of
someone and has not been able to take a new one, she might reuse an old
one. For example, Joe Chin and Lou
Nimnicht are in the paper a lot because they travel to many games, which allows
for more points to be earned. She said that those with Math degrees do very
well in bridge.
October 31,
2017: Barb Walczak
replied to my email. She explained that
bridge takes up most of her time now, and she enjoys it. She attached an article published by the
monthly American Contract Bridge League (ACBL) which, she said, was making a
concerted effort to involve college teams in their Bridge tournaments. She did explain the top hierarchy of Bridge
is dominated by men.
November 5, 2017: Barb explained that is impossible to have a
complete understanding of bridge because there is so much to know, and you will
never say “you fully understand everything.”
She has students in her class that have come for weekly lessons for up
to three years and still don’t know everything.
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