Married Life

   
It was the last day of November 1963 in the little town of Massena, NY where a simple but sociable wedding took place. The groom was Airman First Class Charles Tyrrell stationed at Plattsburgh Air Force Base in upstate New York. The bride was Arlene Hart from Massena, NY who lived and worked in Rouses Point about 60 miles north of Plattsburgh.

Thus begins the story of my married life. The highs and lows of this journey from dating and military life to marriage and civilian life went something like this.

Arlene and I met in 1961 at Brodies nightclub where I was well known for my dancing and held the title of Limbo Champion. She was working in Rouses Point as a supermarket cashier and rented a room from a lovely elderly woman, who became like a grandmother to us during our dating years.

During those dating years we spent most of our weekends with Arlene's parents. It was a two-hour drive from Plattsburgh to Massena, NY so I took the midnight shift at the Base. That way we could leave for Massena early Saturday morning after I got off work and I did not have to report back until Monday at midnight.

The winters in upstate New York are brutal. Snow banks can reach ten feet high along the roadways. And there were many nights we drove back to Plattsburgh in blinding snow. I can remember driving on the left side of the road with my window rolled down and following the mailboxes sticking out of the snow bank. When we saw headlights ahead of us Arlene would roll her window down and I would pull as close to the right snowbank as I could.

One other night driving in blinding snow the car suddenly stopped and would not move forward. I got out of the car and discovered a huge snow drift across the road. My inclination was to just go back to a motel that we knew was near Malone, NY but Arlene was insisting I try to find out about the roads. This was an early lesson in learning to say "Yes Dear."

I turned the car around and headed for the NY State Trooper's office that we had passed. Their eyes said it all when I walked into their station. I must have looked like the Abominable Snowman having walked through knee-high snow with no boots to get to their station. I felt foolish asking how the roads were and, just as I had suspected, they had no idea when a snowblower would clear the road. We went back to that motel, drank coffee and waited until a snowplow went past.

One night we unwittingly crossed the border into Canada. Arlene had pointed the road out as a "shortcut" but I soon realized we were lost. A car was following us but with 10-foot snowbanks there was no place to turn around until we found an opening where a farmer had plowed his driveway. Sure enough, it was the border patrol following us. When we got back to the main road sirens blared and flashing lights lite up the night sky. They were not very nice. They searched the car even pulling the back seat out of our 1958 Chevy and tossing it in a snow.

Not long after our engagement, and while we were making our wedding plans, Arlene contracted mononucleosis. Her illness and recovery not only delayed our wedding but she was also not able to accompany me in the search for a place to live. In the Air Force, once you are married and no longer living on Base, you are paid a subsistence allowance to cover the cost of food and shelter. However, the local landlords had decided that the entire allowance was just for rent.

Every apartment I looked at turned out to be a dump. One apartment had a plastic shower curtain nailed to the wall in the living room. Turning the corner to go into the bedroom, I discovered the shower curtain was hiding a large hole in the wall between the living room and the bedroom. And what was the rent? My entire subsistence allowance!

Then one day I found a charming Spartan mobile home with an 8'x16' attached cabana. The entire interior was shinny wood paneling. And it was sparkling clean. I couldn't find a a stain or a trace of dust even on the water heater under the kitchen counter. It had two furnished bedrooms, one in the front with a double bed and one in the back with twin beds. The mattresses were clean and looked almost brand new.

This cute home had a lovely side yard with a tree, a white picket fence across the front, and nothing behind it but the woods. The "Trailer Park" was small, well kept and run by a nice elderly couple who lived in the park. It was near the Base in the quiet little town of Peru, NY. Most of the residents were military personnel. It seemed perfect to me but it was "For Sale."

However, I thought if we could buy this home, we wouldn't have to buy furniture. The living room had a sofa and a picture window with flowered drapes. The kitchen was very efficient with a cozy booth for dinning. The master bedroom had a large closet. The second bedroom had two closets separated by a handy dressing table and mirror. The bathroom had a tiled tub and shower although it was so small you could brush your teeth while sitting on the toilet.

I was so excited about my find that my in-laws offered to give us some money to help us buy the trailer if we would agree to a cheaper wedding. It made sense to me but because of her illness Arlene had not been "apartment hunting" and could not come to see this neat little home we could call our own. Somehow, I convinced her on the cheaper wedding.

I don't remember much at all about the wedding day. I wasn't drunk but I was nervous, afraid and anxious. In addition, President John F. Kennedy had just been assassinated eight days earlier and the mood among all the guests seemed somber and dismal. Aside from the usual congratulaions, the topic at every table was John Kennedy or the November blizzard that was in the forecast.

By the end of the reception, the blizzard had arrived in full force. Our plan was to honeymoon in Lake Placid, NY, a beautiful and quaint little ski town in the Adirondack Mountains. However, as we left for our honeymoon that evening, the site of cars in the median and ditches ruled out any attempt to make it up to the mountains that night.

With the weather making our honeymoon trip impossible, we spent the night at a motel not far out of town. The next day it was noon before the roads were drivable so we decided to skip the honeymoon and just "go home." I was excited for Arlene to see the charming little home I had found. But it was nightfall before we arrived in Peru and my excitement quickly turned into a tragic disappointment.

The blizzard had knocked out the electricity. The furnace was out and the charming little home I was so proud of was dark. Everything was frozen. Arlene hated it. She cried while I tried to get the furnace started so we could thaw things out. The honeymoon was over!

The winters are long and bitter cold in northern New York. From December through February the temperatures are often minus 20° or more. In our little community a lot of time was spent shoveling snow, removing ice, installing "heat-tapes" to keep the plumbing from freezing and getting our cars started after days of sub-freezing temperatures.

It was early spring before Arlene began to appreciate how wonderful our little home was. To our surprise colorful crocuses bloomed along the white picket fence. Arlene planted Lilies of the Valley around the tree in the yard. We decorated the spacious cabana with a few furnishings and it became a great room to spend time in now that the weather was nice.

The summer went by with trips to the beach at Lake Champlain and we settled in nicely. Arlene began to love our little home and decided she wanted to be a mom instead of going to work. Two weeks before Thanksgiving our first son, Robert, was born. Our little mobile home kept us comfortable and cozy through another Plattsburgh winter. I installed an automatic washer in the kitchen to cut down the chore of washing diapers.

I liked the military. For me, applying for officer's training and making a career would have been ideal. Arlene, however, hated military life with a passion. One Sunday I was called out of church, from the pulpit, for an emergency on the flight line. Arlene was mortified leaving church with our baby in her arms but we were on a military base, everyone was in the military and everyone understood military life. Anyway, we decided it would be back to civilian life when my enlistment ended in August.

Arlene was against moving to Ohio so I prepared for our move to civilian life by mailing out resumes to companies only in New York and Pennsylvania. When it came time for interviews, Arlene's brother Keith accompanied me on the trip. Interviews took us from Binghamton, NY to Landsdale, PA.

When I interviewed with American Electronics Labs, near Lansdale, PA, I found out they had a military contract to install ALT-7 ECM transmitters in armored personnel carriers and had no idea how to even turn the transmitters on. I was an "expert" with these transmitters and they were impressed. So I accepted what I thought was a great offer from AEL.

In September of 1965 our family of two moved to an apartment in Telford, PA, a tiny town near Lansdale. Our apartment was on the second-floor of a big home on the corner of Penn Ave and School Lane. The house was owned by a friendly young couple who also had preschool children. There was a detached garage on School La. for our cars and we could walk to the grocery store, the bank and even the train station. In February 1966 our second son Joseph was born in the Lansdale hospital.

 
In 1968-69 we built a custom home in Franconia just west of Telford and Souderton, PA. A local builder, Joe Pascal & Sons, was building a small development of ten homes on Moyer Road in the middle of Mennonite farmland. We were impressed with the quality and the quiet location of these lovely stone front homes. They had 3 bedrooms with full basements and a one-car garage. However, with their remote location they had to have a well and a septic system.

The cost of the house was $19,000 but to build a house required $3,800, a 20% down payment. We borrowed $2,000 from Arlene's parents and built the house. All the houses were the same but we upgraded to a wood-burning fireplace, a formal dining room, sliding glass doors and electric baseboard heat so we could heat the basement as a playroom.

The electric company was promoting "all electric homes" and our electric heat qualified our house as a "Medallion Home." The cost of electricity for madallion homes was just one penny per kilowatt hour. Our electric baseboard turned out to be the best heating system ever. Every room had its own thermostat so our bedroom could be cooler than the kids and the bedrooms did not get cold when we used the fireplace.

We had an acre of property but the builder only sodded the front yard and threw some grass seed about 100 feet behind the house. To build a bigger back yard and to start a garden I bought a 10 hp Allis Chalmers tractor with a 42" mower, a 36" dozer blade and a 34" tiller. I used the dozer blade to spread top soil and seeded the entire back yard and the right-of-way.

With that big tiller I was able to put in a large garden of corn, tomatoes, onions, beans, carrots, broccoli and more. After the grass grew in, that big mower was a blessing. I would often spend my entire weekend working in the garden and the yard. But when I settled back on Sunday evening after a dinner with fresh corn and tomatoes, admiring my pristine lawn and the sunset beyond the fields, it was worth it.

My wife was a stay-at-home Mom who loved to cook and can. Our garden provided food that lasted through the winter. I worked as an electronic technician at American Electronic Labs and attended LaSalle University at night. Villanova would not accept any of my credits from the University of Cincinnati or Plattsburgh State University. But LaSalle did accept my history and english credits for their electronic phusics degree.

One year while hunting for a Christmas tree the boys picked up some pine cones. We put them in a bowl as a holiday centerpiece on the dining room table. After a while we began to hear "crackling" sounds and discovered that the pinecones were opening up and dropping tiny seeds. We planted the seeds in egg cartons like we did the seeds to start our garden and soon sprouts appeared. Each one looked like a tiny pine needle poking out of the soil. When they grew into seedlings we planted them outside and grew two beautiful little pine trees.

Sadly there was a year Arlene's parents came for Thanksgiving and stayed until April. On their visit we found out her mother had cancer. Since there were no cancer treatments in Massena and Beatrice, who went by Betty, had to drive to Buffalo, NY. However, staying with us she could get radiation treatments in Abington, about 25 miles away.

Meanwhile, we had paid back the loan from her parents but they were not contributing anything toward pur household expenses. To earn extra money during that time Arlene took a part-time job running a printing press for a Teldord company that printed diplomas and manufactured graduation rings. Sadly, a couple of months after her mother returned home in April, she died. Betty was a beloved person and her funeral was heartbreaking.

Unfortunately for Arlene's father Arile, Betty harbored a dark secret for many years. Arile bought US Treasury Bonds from the time he was in WWII until his retirement from Alcoa Aluminum in Massena. After his wife's death he opened the safe only to find empty envelopes. The bonds had all been cashed. The poor man, who built the house they lived in with his own two hands, did not have a dime saved. It would take a few years but I would eventually learn the meaning of "like mother, like daughter."

The 1959 Chevrolet we bought from Arlene's cousin was old and the rocker panels had turned to rust. We could not afford to replace the car so I covered the panels with masking tape and spray painted them the color of the car to pass Pennsylvania's annual auto inspection.

I had a decent salary at American Electronic Labs but I traveled and Arlene was not happy. In addition, I was attending La Salle College for an engineering degree and homework demanded a lot of time. Money was tight as President Nixon had initiated a wage freeze ending government contracts and salary increases. I needed a raise but there no engineering jobs.

Then I frivolously replied to a classified ad for a management position with S&S Associates. There was no answer to my resume for months until one Sunday when I was busy painting the trim outside the house. The caller was impressed that I had written the cover letter and resume myself and asked if I could come to his office in King of Prussia right away for an interview. I was in work clothes but he insisted to "come as you are." I went to the interview, no shower but nicely dressed, and I was hired that day for a nice salary increase.

My position at S&S Associates would eventually give us enough money to buy a new 1972 Chevrolet Impala and to start the boy's college fund. I had a long drive to work but I was nearing my graduation from college. Shortly after my graduation the job at S&S was cut short with the accidental death of my boss, friend and mentor.

However, the experience would be the beginning of a new, well-paying and valuable career with the JCPenney Company. JCPenney sold our Moyer Road home and moved us to Centerville, Ohio where I opened a new JCPenney Product Service Center.

(Use this link to see 580 Moyer Road Today on Google Earth. The right-of-way now goes back to the Living Faith Fellowship Church).

 
During my time at S&S Associates I had been promoted to CEO of Service in Electronics. That background provided the experience JCPenney needed in product service management. Their service centers were free-standing operations that provided repair and maintenance for the home electronics, major appliances, lawnmowers, garden tractors and bicycles they sold. The manager was responsible for the entire operation including making a profit.

After six months of training JCPenney gave me the opportunity to open a new product service center in Dayton, Ohio. We found a brand new two-story colonial home in Centerville, Ohio. My new salary and the profit from the sale of our Franconia house allowed us to put 20% down on this house. With its living room, family room, 4 bedrooms, 2 baths, large front porch and two car garage, it was quite an upgrade from our little ranch house in Franconia.

We furnished the family room with our old living room furniture and bought new furniture, carpet and drapery for the living room and dining room. We decorated those rooms in an elegant Spanish decor. The new dining room featured a rich, dark pine table that sat eight guests. The set included two captain's chairs, an elegant buffet and a majestic hutch that displayed our two sets of Mikasa china and sparkling crystal stemware.

Centerville was a prestigious community. Our property was only about 1/2 acre but that was still enough to have a great vegetable garden. Our neighbors were lawyers, doctors and upper-level managers for Dayton corporations like NCR, IBM, GM, Frigidaire and Delco. The school system was very modern and progressive where students made "a contract" with the teacher and worked side-by-side to complete their studies while the teacher just provided guidance.

Bob and Joe both benefited from this educational system. Bob thrived because he learned quickly. Joe's reading ability improved by two grade levels. He set out to win a prize by reading the most books over the summer and he did it! They participated in baseball, soccer and they both delivered newspapers. They would often combine their deliveries stacking their papers in a wagon so I bought them a used JCPenney minibike. Now they used the minibike to tow the qagon.

In Centerville, the dads showed up for the little league and soccer games when they weren't out of town on business. The wives, calling themselves "management widows," gathered every morning for their coffee, gossip and Valium. I didn't travel so I was usually at the boys' ball games. Once I was late and Arlene told them it was because I loved my job more than them. More and more there were signs that trouble was brewing in Centerville. Perhaps I was "too busy" to notice.

In the fall of 1974, I bought a new Chevrolet Monza. It was silver with a red Landau roof. This compact V8 was great for driving back and forth to work and we had more room in the garage for two cars and my tractor. Arlene didn't like the idea that I bought a "sports car." We weren't the richest family in the neighborhood and we didn't have the biggest house but my sons each had their own bedroom and my family had more than I ever had growing up.

Arlene liked to cook and bake and she was very good at it. She had a modern kitchen, a well-stocked pantry, fancy appliances and our Chevy Impala. She had the freedom and means to enjoy whatever she wanted; tennis, luncheons, shopping, or pampering herself with hair, nails, or a spa. I earned enough that she could have hired a housekeeper. Instead, she buried herself in housework and complaining.

She began to take her frustrations out on the boys. When I traveled, I bought a local beer, drained it and brought the can home for the boys' beer-can collection. At one point, she destroyed their collection because she was tired of dusting around it. But Bob recently told me that it wasn't their mother who cleaned the house. She made them vacuum and dust when they got home from school.

Next came the marriage counselors. Their advice was that "I was trying to buy my family's love with material things" and I should quit my job and find one that would allow me to spend more time at home. But I liked my job. I liked being the boss. I liked the prestige. I liked having nice clothes, more than one car, an impressive home, evening cocktails and restaurant dinning.

She hated the Air Force. She hated my job at AEL. She hated my job at S&'S Associates and now she hated my job with JCPenney. With no disrespect to her dad, I could not be a husband who left for work with his lunch pail each morning and returned home promptly after the 4 o'clock whistle, ready to take a five-o'clock snooze and supper at six. Losing my job was out of the question but Arlene had another "trick" up her sleeve. She would get me fired.

I played tennis once a week with three guys from work. One day Caroline, who worked in my parts department, filled in for one of the guys who couldn't play. When I told Arlene that Caroline had played, she got so angry that she called my boss to complain about a female's involvement. I didn't find out about this stunt until my boss called to arrange a meeting over the imcident.

This was particularly embarrassing to me because I had been the first manager in product service to hire a woman into the parts department. I took some criticism because the position was usually filled by men since the parts department handled receiving the carry-in repairs that often were heavy TV's and lawn mowers. However, Mike was my parts manager and I hired a woman because they pay more attention to detail and controlling my inventory was an important to controlling my profits.

What made my embarresment even worse, I had hired a girl for our front office who was so attractive that she got attention wherever she went. Every service manager in the region had teased me about Carla. Carla was so attractive that she caught the attention of the guys from the business across the street. So much so that one morning they held out a banner that read "We Love You Carla!"

The sad part is, I almost did not hire Carla because she was so pretty. But it was her personality and persistence that won me over. Other managers soon learned that Carla was much more than a pretty face. She was the only call taker I ever hired who could make an angry, ranting customer calm down and laugh even when they were convinced that they "bought a lemon."

John Weatherford, manager of the Columbus Service & Parts Distribution Center, showed up for the meeting on my boss's behalf. He reminded me that a happy wife was critical to JCPenney keeping their managers.

It wasn't long after this that JCPenney offered me the opportunity to establish and operate their first computerized Product Service Center. It would mean relocating to New Jersey and I thought the change might be great for the family. Arlene rarely left the house even to go to the mail box at the road. Perhaps this would be a chance to renew our life and it would be a new adventure for the boys.

 
In 1978 JCPenney transfered me to Camden, NJ to manage what would become their first computerized Product Service Center. Over the past thirteen years I had established a lifestyle for my family that put us in the top 14% of all American households. I considered myself a sucessful father, husband, provider and business manager.

In our search for a house in New Jerssey, Arlene was not happy with anything available in the neighboring communities of Collingswood, Audubon, Cherry Hill, or Marlton. However, when we stumbled into Medford, NJ we found the perfect house on the edge of the Jersey Pine Barrens. The house was one of two models the builder was selling and the address was #4 Robin Hood Drive, Sherwood Forest, Medford, NJ.

Everything about this house was as beautiful as it was catchy. Surely Arlene would be happy here. It was a 2,600 square-foot, two-story, center-hall home. It had a two-car garage and was located on a lot of pine trees and railroad ties right across the street from one of Medford's many lakes. Although Medford was a long drive to work in heavy traffic, we bought the house.

The house had hardwood floors inn the kitchen, breakfast nook, and family room but the dining room had "pegged hardwood flooring." The family room had a brick wall with a mantle, a fireplace and log bin. The sliding glass doors opened out onto a 12'x16' screened-in patio. The master bedroom had a large walk-in closet and master bathroom. The laundry room doubled as a mud room and was big enough for a washer, dryer, freezer and an old kitchen table where the boys could study, draw, paint, and build models.

To keep up its model home appearance we decided to have the house professionally decorated. We selected artwork from prints that the decorator brought to the house so each piece perfectly accented every room. We hired a wall paperer and, since the living room carpet was green, we put grass cloth below the chair-rail and a soft foil print for above it. Hand-painted wall paper accented the wall behind the server in the dining room and a simple combination of soft yellow and white stripes and checks went in the breakfast nook.

However, with my new job and my new salary came new responsibilities. I was at home less because I had a one hour drive each way to work. Not the 10-minute drive I had in Centerville. In addition, the initial setup of the computer was demanding later hours. Arlene just became more and more hateful. And, I would soon find out that she had time to convince the neighbors I was evil and a "wife beater."

We had barely finished decorating the house when she announced one morning while I was dressing for work that she had gone to a lawyer, cashed my paycheck, and closed out our bank accounts. I always took just $20 for lunch and gas money from my $3,600 monthly paycheck. Driving to work I realized that I had no money. That day I went to see a lawyer but I wasn't quite ready to take his advice and cancel all my credit cards. That was a big mistake!

To keep peace, I slept in the guest bedroom but she had a more dasterdly plan up her sleeve. I was no longer welcome to eat any of the food she prepared or to use our washer or dryer. One day she baked some cookies and left them sitting on the kitchen table. That evening I took a cookie from the dish. She jumped on my back, scratching my face as she tried to take the cookie away. I broke free and ran to the bedroom. She burst into the room, threw herself on the floor next to the nightstand, grabbed the phone and called the police.

When the police arrived, she claimed the scratches came from "defending herself against me." The police suggested I leave the house. I went to a "drive-up motel" where I wouldn't be seen and got a room where I could clean up and put some ice on my now bloody scratches. Luckily, I had a small first aid kit in the car and used Band-Aids to cover the wounds.

It wasn't long after that incident that she pulled another evil trick. The regional manager, who was my boss, the national service manager from New York headquarters and John Weatherford, the parts distribution manager, scheduled a visit to see my Service Center with its new computer. They were quite impressed and that evening we went to dinner and discussed the future of computers in product service.

When I got home, the lights were out in the guest bedroom and I was walking on something cushiony. From the hall light, I realized that all of my clothes, suits and shirts, had been scattered around the bedroom floor. The lightbulbs had been removed from the bedroom lamps.

I was furious and stormed across the hall into the master bedroom. I took a lamp from the night stand and headed across the hall. Arlene grabbed the cord that was dragging behind me and wrapped it around the knob on the upstairs railing. It broke the knob and jerked the lamp out of my hand. She picked up the lamp and hit me in the head with it. I ran past her into the master bedroom and locked the door. She literally kicked the door open, shattering the door jam.

Once again, she threw herself on the bedroom floor next to the nightstand, grabbed the phone and called the police. By the time they arrived the kids were awake and standing in the hall. She sent them back to bed and told the police I had "kicked the door down when I came home one night in a drunken stooper." It was an Oscar-winning performance but I think the police knew she was lying.

I explained that I had never come home drunk and they could tell that I was not drunk on this night. Once again, they suggested that I leave the house but they did let me take a few belongings with me. I had no money, though, so I spent the night at my office. Thankfully, the JCPenney managers were leaving the next morning for the airport and wouldn't be around to see me unshaven and wearing the same suit.

I had arranged for JCPenney to send my pay checks to the office but didn't tell them about the problem at home. My lawyer had suggested I should try to take some valuables from the house. This time I had taken his advice and managed to sneak three valuable prints out of the house and hide them at work. But Arlene was about to avenge that ill-advised move.

The next time I went home all of my clothing was in plastic trash bags and laying on the front lawn. The house was locked and all the locks had been changed. Arlene had forbidden the boys to answer the door. With no money I had been living off my American Express and gas credit cards but soon I had no credit. I began living at work, shaving in the men's room and sleeping on the sofa in the lady's room.

It took nearly my entire next month's paycheck to pay my bills and rent a one-bedroom apartment in Lindenwold, NJ. I had managed to get a bed frame, my electronics and a few possesions from the house but, after furnishing my tiny apartment with such necessities as a mattress, pots and dishes, a coffee maker, and etc., I learned to live a very frugal lifestyle. The only thing I had to show for all my success was my Chevy Monza.

It was during this time that Arlene pulled another evil trick. She informed me that the boys would be away at Boy Scout Camp for the weekend and I couldn't have my regular visit with them. I fell for her story because they were in the Boy Scouts but the next weekend when I went to pick them up, the house appeared vacant and the deadbolts were locked. After getting a locksmith to open the house, it was so empty it echoed.

Somehow, Arlene had disappeared with the boys, eight rooms of furniture, all the furnishings, window treatments and linens, the artwork, china, pots and pans, and small appliances. Even my tractor, its accessories and all of my tools were gone from the garage. Right down to my Air Force and college records, everything was gone. However, my books and my set of Americana encyclopedias that she made me keep in the attic were still in the attic.

The old Mt. Holly, NJ courthouse had high ceilings and halls that echoed every sound. I spent many hours sitting alone in those hallways as Judge Ferrelli allowed Arlene's lawyer to reschedule the divorce hearings 13 times. On one of those days I clearly overheard the advice of a lawyer to her client. I was about to learn a shocking new lesson about divorce lawyers.

As the woman sat sobbing, her lawyer told her to pick a fight with her husband, call the police, and tell them he is abusive. She advised her client that the police would make him leave the house and that would be her chance to change all the locks. The woman said she couldn't do that to him but the lawyer insisted it was all necessary to "get the judge on her side."

Arlene hated my jobs and complained about how hard the seven years I spent going to college at night were on her, but suddenly she sure loved my money. After informing the court that "she had a right to live in the manner to which she was accustomed" Joe would be 30 years old before I finished paying alimony.