Single Life

   
It took twelve years of marriage, seven years of college at night, and two careers to insure a comfortable lifestyle for myself and my family. But a selfish wife, two lawyers and an obstinate court system took it all away.

After the separation I rented a one-bedroom apartment in Lindenwold, NJ. I wanted to get some of my furnishings from the house so I told the police of my plan. They were at our Medford house when I arrived with a rental truck. Arlene was not home. One of the boys answered the door and let me in. I took my electronics, dart board, a couple of lithographs, and the guest bedroom furniture before Arlene came home.

She locked all the doors to the house and ran to the neighbors, whom she had convinced that I was a wife beater, for help. The police were trying to help me get a mattress out through a window when I saw my neighbors unloading the truck and putting my things on their property. The police stopped that little caper but not before the tables and lamps had been taken off the truck. At that point the police suggested I should leave with what I had.

I took what I had to the apartment but it was going to take more than a divorce to put an end to my ambition. I bought a water-damaged mattress at a JCPenney clearance sale to complete the bed and a small dropleaf table with two chairs for the kitchen. My next stop was K-Mart. I bought the cheapest dishes, silverware, utensils, pots and pans that I could find. I bought towels, sheets, an iron, ironing board, toaster oven and coffee maker.

I was searching the newspaper for some second-hand furniture when an ad for a pool table caught my eye. Suddenly, I thought why did I need a living room? I could watch television from the bedroom, I spent more time at work than I did at home and with a "game room" I could entertain myself when I was at home. I bought the pool table and the seller delivered it, helped me assemble it and to get it properly leveled.

Next I set up my electronics, hung up my dart board, my big New Yorker print, my antique car artwork, and fashioned a makeshift bar. I bought a cheap roll-up shade for the sliding glass doors and papered the wall with an antique-car wallpaper. I replaced the ceiling light with a globe lamp to properly light the pool table.

Meanwhile, the boys had disappeared with their mother. I later found out that they had moved to Massena, NY but I did not know how to get in touch with them. Apparently, they were forbidden to contact me. Once when they disobeyed her and called me at work, Arlene punished them by making them pay for the long-distance phone call woth the little money they earned delivering newspapers in the frigid cold of Massena.

With no family and everything I treasured gone, I decided to look for some new friends. When Arlene and I met I was a dance champion at Brody's night club in Plattsburgh, NY. But during the twelve years of married life there had been no dancing. I wanted to dance again. There was a popular nightclub in Marlton that featured live bands and dancing. I decided to check it out and, one night while sipping a scotch at the bar, I spied a gal who was a terrific dancer.

She was a cute gal with a Dorthy Hammel hairdo that bounced with her dance moves. I asked her to dance. Her nane was Barbara and she lived in Pine Hill, just a few minutes drive from my apartment in Lindenwold. I don't remeber when or how but I asked her for a date. It was a great date and we danced the night away.

The night I picked Barbara up for our first date I learned she lived with her daughter who was a school teacher and had to get up early for work each morning. On our next date, I brought two roses; one for Barbara and one for her daughter whom we had awakened when we came home from our first date after midnight. They were impressed.

Since Barbara and I both loved dancing so much, we went to see the movie Saturday Night Fever. It inspired us to start disco dancinig. Barbara Matthews was a great dancer. She could spin, dip and do lifts. We develped some great moves and began to enjoy going to the Disco night clubs. Soon we became a very popular couple wherever we went to dance.

But our relationship soon became more than dancing. Barbara was from Vermont and an avid skier. She took me to Ski Mountain in Pine Jill where I learned to ski. After I learned, we went away for a weekend of skiing and for the first time in three years life felt normal and was fun again. That year we joined the South Jersey Ski Club and skied Vermont, New Hampshire, New York and New Jersey.

Although Barbara lived in Pine Hill, she had raised her son and daughter in Marlton and still had friends there. She introduced me to Sherry, who was divorced from Judge Hackermann and who's daughter was Miss New Jersey. I also met Dick and Betty Goodwin who owned the Marlton Golf and Country Club (Dick's father built Marlton) and Dick and Jennie Shultz who had been Barbara's neighbors in Marlton for many years.

Sherry was Barbara's "best friend" and began to join us when we went out dancing. Sherry was attractive, sophisticated and flirtatious and bounced from boyfriend to boyfriend. Lenora, a friend of Barbara's from Bromley, also began to join us when we went dancing. There were always suiters after Sherry and Lenora but my trio of ladies became affectionately known as Charlie's Angels among our night club friends.

The Goodwins and Schultzs were members of Barbara's Bridge Club. Eventually I began to join them as a sub but soon became a regular player. I was an excellent Pinnocle player so learning bridge came easy and her friends were patient and helpful. When it was my turn to host bridge, it was at Barbara's house. When the Goodwins hosted bridge, it was sometimes held at the Marlton Country Club.

During the week Barbara made dinner. We would set up her card table in the living room and watch the Eagles, the Phillies, the Flyers or play Backgammon. We always started dinner with our gin martinis and we liked to experiment with different garnishes from pickled tomatos to squid. After dinner I began staying overnight with Barbara and driving home to Lindenwold to get ready for work in the morning.

On Friday nights we headed for happy hour at Cenneli's. Cennelii's was a beautiful nightclub and gourmet Italian restaurant with a huge bar, roomy dance floor, and a seven-piece band. However, our favorite Italian restaurant was Momma Ventura's. Momma's dance floor was small and more intimate and Barbara and I became well know among the regulars as Fred and Ginger.

Although Barbara was 13 years older than me, her small stature and youthful features did not reveal her age. She was actually "carded twice" during the years we dated; once entering a night club where we were not known and again on a ski trip with the ski club when we entered the bar at the lodge after skiing.

One winter the ski club planned to ski Whiteface Mountain at Lake Placid, NY. Massena was not far from Lake Placid so I contacted the boys to see if they would like to meet me there for a weekend of skiing. They seemed excited and agreed to the ski trip. Because the club would arrive late on Friday night, I arranged for the boys to stay at a family-run hotel. The owners assured me that my 15 and 16-year-old sons would be accomodated and be safe.

Arlene was livid that they had to miss school on Friday while traveling to Lake Placid and that they would be alone until I arrived late Friday night. She made Bob and Joe bring ALL of their belongings with them to Lake Placid, insisting that they must return with me. The ski club's bus was full so I had to make sure the boys could return to Massena safely. She tried to create a disastor out of what was a great weekend of skiing, dinning and spending valuable time with my two great sons.

Arlene was nasty, not just to me but she was nasty to her sons and her brother. One evening while working late at my office, I received a phone call from a lady who identified herself as "Bob's parole officer!" I was in shock and her explanation went something like this. One night Bob was late for dinner after delivering his newspapers. He  argued with his mother and left the house to go to his Uncle Keith's house. When Arlene found out that Bob was at her brother's house, she called the police telling them her brother "kidnapped" Bob and she wanted him arrested.

It wasn't clear why Bob was on parole but I decided to drive to Massena to find out what was going on. Barbara came with me for support but I didn't tell anyone she was with me. Arlene insisted I meet the boys in town. It was the middle of winter so our meeting didn't go well. The boys seemed fine so I did not pursue the "parole officer" bit with Bob.

When I planned the trip, I also arranged to meet with Keith. His side of the story was that Bob had argued with his mother, that Bob had been with him and that Arlene had tried to have him arrested. When I asked Keith about the eight rooms of furniture, he said he was told that I had taken all the furnishings from the house.

According to Bob recently, the entire parole officer story was fabricated. What he remembered was that Arlene wanted Keith arrested after he slammed a beer bottle down on the server during an argument leaving an imprint of the bottle in its soft pine top. The incident had sparked big trouble between Arlene and her brother so we surmised the call may have been from Keith's wife who was trying to get me involved in the chaos and commotion Arlene was causing in Massena with her brother. Apparently Keith had lied to me about the furniture she had.

It should have been no surprise, but the ink was barely dry on the divorce papers when Bob called from the Massena Greyhound bus station, early one morning, to tell me that he and Joe were leaving for New York City and headed for New Jersey to live with me. They had only the money their grandfather gave them, no food, and no instructions on how to get to New Jersey. I told them to take the commuter bus from New York City to Mt. Laurel, New Jersey and I would meet them in at the bus station.

Barbara and I arranged to pick them up in Mt. Laurel and take them out to dinner. Their next stop was my tiny Lindenwold apartment. I had one bedroom, no living room no furniture and a small drop-leaf table in the kitchen. There was no place for three people to sleep in my apartment. It may not have been the best decision, but while we lived at Lindenwwold, the boys slept at the apartment and I continued to stay over-night with Barbara.

By now Bob and Joe should have figured out that their mother stole not only my life but their lives as well. She stole all of our money including their college funds. She stole my pension, the house and all of its furnishings. She stole everything we owned. My lifestyle over the past three years had grown from one of survival to what I had managed to rebuild and no one was taking it away again.

 
Barbara was a Real Estate agent and the sales manager at Bromley Estates in Pine Hill, NJ where she lived. She knew of a two-bedroom, two bath condominium that was for rent. So, after several months of my sons living in my tiny apartment in Lindenwold, we moved to Bromley Estates. I bought living room furniture and twin beds for the boys who shared one of the bedrooms. The condo had an eat-in kitchen so I set up the pool table in the dining room.

Bromley was good for the boys. There was an olympic-size swimming pool and two tennis courts. They had girlfriends and made many friends who lived at Bromley. I was not a fan of Bob's late-night Dungeons and Dragons games but the pool table was a big hit and many of their friends spent a lot of time at our house.

Pine Hill was mostly small houses that, in earlier days, had been summer homes for wealthy Philadelphians who were seeking a cooler location from the city during the summer. Today, Pine Hill is best known for its exclusive Pine Valley Golf Club. Pine Valley is often ranked the number one course in Golf Magazine's 100 Top Courses in the U.S. and the World. It is a private club and non-members can play only if accompanied by a member. The wait for a membership can seem endless.

Pine Hill was once known for Ski Mountain where I learned to ski. Ski Mountain was actually more of a "hill" than a mountain but it was a great place to learn or to practice. Today, Ski Mountain has become the Trump National Golf Course of Philadelphia. Pine Hill is next to Clemonton, NJ, once the location of Clementon Lake Amusement Park where the boys and their friends spent many summer days. Today, Clemonton Lake is a splash park.

For me, Pine Hill became a different story. Barbara liked making dinner for the four of us but the boys were not keen on our relationship and wanted it to end. Just before Thanksgiving in 1982 JCPenney announced to me that they were no longer going to sell major appliances, TVs and gas engine products and that they would be closing all product service centers and automotive service centers on April 1, 1983.

I was to announce the closures to my 60 employees in January and begin helping them write resumes and find new jobs. GE would take over appliance repairs, RCA would take over home electronic repairs and independent contractors would provide service for tractors and lawnmowers. I would be responsible for liquidating all the assets of the Camden product service center and then I was out of a job.

Christmas came and went and the January announcement was devastating. By April, though, my technical supervisors found jobs with RCA and GE. My technicians and staff found jobs with GE and American Appliances. And I had an offer in service management from Montgomery Ward in South Carolina. However, Bob was a senior in high school and wanted to graduate with his friends. I promised him we would not move.

However, my path from boss to employee was rocky and unsuccessful. I applied for service manager at a major fuel oil company but the owner felt I had to know how to fix boilers in order to manage his service business. I applied for service manager at an large office machine retailer but the owner said I was over-qualified. I applied for manager at an ITT Technical Institute but came in in second place because my background did not include any formal classroom teaching.

I had several failures at "sales' and finally took my friends' advise and went to Real Estate school. I completed training at Fox & Lazo school and I was given a position as an agent at Fox & Lazo Realty in Haddonfield, NJ. I soon discovered that with all of my friends in Real Estate I had no "center of influence" and earned just $8,000 my first year.

Since the boys were living with me, I quit paying child support. However, that's not how court orders work and I legally became "a deadbeat dad." I learned that I had to get the order "reversed" before I could quit paying the support. So, I went to court. I didn't hire a lawyer because Judge Ferrelli would know the case, the boys live with me so end the child support. However, that's not how our legal system works either.

Judge Ferrelli, who I expected to see on the bench, had gone on vacation to Italy and Judge Gaddos took the case. I explained that my sons now lived with me and I wanted the child support order reversed. He banged his gavel and told me about the responsibilities of bringing "babies into this world." Once again, I tried to explain that my sons were in high school, not babies, and they lived with me. He refused to listen and held me in contempt of court!

I had a friend who said he golfed with Judge Gaddos. He and his lawyer golfed every weekend with Gaddos so I should hire his lawyer. I hired the lawyer and paid his $500 retainer. We appeared before Gaddos on the scheduled court date and Gaddos and my "lawyer" proceeded to put on an academy-award-winning courtroom performance.

When Judge Gaddos declared that I must continue to pay child support because "I looked prosperous," I asked my lawyer what I got for my $500. He said the child support would go into an escrow account and "You're leaving the courthouse with me instead of the sheriff!". To this day I have no idea what happened to all of that "escrow money" but, hopefully it went to Joe when he went back to live with his mother so he could afford community college.

I continued to see Barbara although the changes in my life had put a strain on our relationship. I started a torrid love affair with a Real Estate client named Margie. After I found her a nice row house in Fairview near Camden, she moved from a highrise condo near the waterfront and I began seeing her whenever I was not working or on Real Estate business. She was a very sexy redhead and I was so hooked on her that I even tolerated her snotty two-year-old son.

With Real Estate barely meeting my expenses, I switched to selling mortgages. I thought I could get all of my Real Estate friends to use Crestmont Federal Savings & Loan for their clients' mortgages. However, Crestmont was not popular among them and I soon found out Crestmont simply turned down too many of the agents' clients for me to be successful.

Meanwhile, my former employees were after me to become the service manager at American Appliances. I had avoided this opportunity because American Appliances had a very bad reputation in customer service. However, the desire to once again have a decent, steady income won me over. When Bob graduated high school, I gave him a job shuttling merchandise between the American Appliance stores and product service.

Joe graduated the year after Bob and, after ignoring the boys for two years, their mother showed up at Joe's graduation like nothing had ever happened. Bob moved in with his girlfriend and her parents. Joe moved back with his mother for the community college tuition benefits. Hopefully, he benefitted from all that child support I was paying into escrow.

The $1,700 I got from the divorce I gave to the boys. Bob bought a vintage car and Joe bought a red motorcycle. The balance paid for their auto insurance.

At some point I bought a Commodore 64 computer with a hard drive and a printer and began learning to program in DOS. I wrote a program for mortgage sales, one for motels and hotels and one for a law firm. Now the nest was empty and I was contemplating a career in computer programming. I was 42 years old and, although I had gained my sons, I had lost a career that I loved.

 
My prosperous days had come to a quick and unexpected end and here I was starting over at age 42. With little chance of getting back into management I was encouraged by my friends to get a Real estate license. I went to school, got my license and found a job at the Haddonfield office of Fox & Lazo Realty on Tanner St in downtown Haddonfield.

In January of 1984 I was on floor duty at the Fox & Lazo office when a lady walked in lookung to buy a Haddonfield home. Joyce Grey and her husband both grew up in Haddonfield and their parents still lived in town. She was recently divorced and wanted to buy in Haddonfield so the grandparents could take care of her 8 and 10-year-old daughters while she worked.

Haddonfield is a pricey area and we spent a couple of weeks looking at properties in and around town but there was nothing available in her price range. I did find a lovely two-bedroom apartment for rent that was located above a local restaurant. It was right on Tanner St. and almost within walking distance of where she worked. She loved the apartment and signed the lease.

After Joyce was settled into her apartment, she began to visit me at the office and would bring me lunch or baked goods. Joyce was petite and attractive so I got a lot of attention from my associates over her attention. To reciprocate her kindness, I began taking her out to lunch. When her daughters were not in school, we took them to lunch with us.

Soon Joyce and I began to date on a regular basis. We enjoyed dining out and dancing together. Her daughters liked me a lot and we began to feel like a family when we were together. One evening, Joyce invited me to dinner at her apartment and after dinner her daughters asked if I could stay the night.

I was slightly embarrassed because the girls knew it was a "two-bedroom" apartment. But to my surprise, and glee, Joyce answered that it would be nice. That night was the beginning of a wonderful, happy relationship. Joyce began to celebrate every Friday the 13th as an "anniversary" because the day she found the apartment on Tanner Street I had taken her to T.G.I. Fridays for happy hour. It was Friday the 13th.

Joyce's parents liked me and we celebrated the holidays at their house. After about two years of dating, we began talking about marriage but not going so far as to make a formal announcement. Then, when a great twin house showed up for sale on Ellis Street in Haddonfield, we bought the house. This was the first time since my divorce that I ever considered actually living with someone.

Joyce and her ex-husband had an unusually amicable divorce. They split everything down the middle and divorced without avoided going broke hiring lawyerds. He arrived at our house every other Saturday from his home in Poughkeepsie, NY to spend the weekend with his daughters and we always sat having coffee while Joyce helped the girls pack for their weekend.

Occasionally, Joyce and I drove the girls to Poughkeepsie for the weekend instead of him driving to Haddonfield. It was a chance for her to visit old friends and sometimes we even doubled dated with her ex-husband and his girlfriend. And, he never failed to give Joyce a check on every visit.

Real Estate had not been financially successful and I had switched to selling mortgages. Still, to supplement my meager income, I was writing PC software. I managed to sell a program to Fox & Lazo Mortgage Company and one to the law firm where Joyce worked. I was actively searching for a job as a programmer but before I succeeded tragedy and heartbreak reared their ugly heads.

It was the Ides of March 1988 and Joyce was working overtime. I was watching the girls although they needed very little supervision. Joyce was working overtime more and more when I learned that the "overtime" was actually a wealthy local businessman who was courting Joyce. When I found out about the affair, I discovered from neighbors that her affair was the "talk of the town."

I was devestated and wondered how I could be so blind. Joyce saw my heartbreak and tried to explain that she had to think of her future and that of her daughters and I struggled financially. Perhaps I understood. Her new suitor was married but he owned a bakery/luncheonette in town, one of those big Haddonfield Victorian houses and his own airplane. I drove a 1979 Chrysler LeBaron with 140,000 miles on it.

Never in my entire life had I been so despondent. I had to move out of the house. Joyce paid me back for my half of the house but I missed the girls a lot. They had become like daughters to me. I began to write a daily journal to handle my frustration. The only thing that kept me from hitting rock bottom was a job offer as a computer programmer.

 
After my breakup with Joyce in April of 1988, I moved to a 2nd floor furnished apartment in Blackwood, NJ close to my new job at Business Operating Systems & Software (BOSS).

The apartment was really quite nice for a two-room efficiency. The bedroom was nicely decorated with a cherry poster bed and matching dresser. The living room had a small sofa and overstuffed chair, end tables and lamps. I decorated it nicely with the furnishings I brought from Haddonfield.

The kitchen and living room were one large area but the sink and stove were behind folding doors, closet style. This was a nice feature for an efficiency. In the kitchen area a small table sat next to a window that looked out over a lovely back yard with some large trees. Squirrels would sometimes sit on the sill outside the window.

Joyce and I settled amicably and she paid me back all the money I had invested into buying the house. I missed her and the kids terribly but my new job helped to eleiminate the sorrow. The new job as a computer programmer was a dream come true. I commiserated with a co-worker Sandy Marmon. Sandy and I both started working at BOSS on the same day. She was recently divorced, with Judge Gaddos ruling on her case, and we were assigned to the same project at BOSS. Working together we became very close friends.

Four years after BOSS, Sandy and I found ourselves programming at new jobs in downtown Philadelphia. Sandy worked for Cigna and had been transferred to their offices in Liberty Place at 16th and Chestnut Street and I was working at Lightship Corp at 16th and Locust Street. We remained friends often going to lunch together over the next 15 years.

Sandy was 12 years my junior so we never became romantically involved but we "dated." We went out to dinner, the movies or to shoot pool. Sometimes I came to her house on Saturdays, helped her with her two young sons and with mowing her big yard. Her daughter also lived at home but she was older and self sufficient.

In June I met Marcia at a nightclub. Marcia was 13 years my junior but we did begin a romantic relationship after dating for awhile. Marcia lived near Marlton and had a double-wide mobile home. She had two tiny dogs who were getting very old. After we had to put her little fur babies down, she adopted a beautiful greyhound from a greyhound rescue center. It was a magnificent dog and the only "big" dog I would ever consider owning.

Marcia was Jewish and I experienced my first Passover Dinner with her and her family. Dating Marcia was the first time in my life I did my Christmas shopping early. When we went shopping for Hanukkah gifts, I also did my Christmas shopping. Marcia and I dated for four years until I moved to Jericho Manor June 29, 1992.

 
My jobs in Real Estate and mortgage sales were just a memory. I had a 9 to 5 paying job at Business Operating Systems and Software (BOSS) in Blackwood, NJ as a computer programmer and no longer had to survive doing side jobs.

It was an entry level position with entry level pay but I enjoyed programming and developing new software. However, after more than three years I was still at a low salary, earning only 1/3 the salary of the boss's son, by comparison.

In those three years I had established four new clients, taken over two clients from employees who left the company, and created inventory and GL software that became part of the proprietary software that BOSS sold. BOSS had denied giving me a raise but when they hired a new employee and gave him my newest client, I found better pay and left the company.

My new job was with Larmon Photo in Abington, PA. supporting Computyme software that provided inventory control, receivables, payroll, point-of-sale, and much more to the photo industry. Larmon ran both PICK and PRIME operating systems. These two systems were very much alike but the PRIME system was used exclusively for the Abington Township Police Department who used Larmon's computers.

Abington, PA was a one-hour commute from Blackwood, NJ. After 14 months of commuting, I moved to Pennsylvania. I had noticed an intriguing apartment complex of brick buildings in a wooded area that was practically within walking distance of Larmon Photo. It was known as Jericho Manor and, although the apartments were old, Jericho was a beautiful place. I rented an apartment and moved to Jericho on June 29, 1992.

Since my apartment in Blackwood was furnished, I had to buy new furniture for Jericho. I bought a new living room sofa and two chairs. The bedroom set I bought was cherry, similar to what I had in Blackwood. There was no closet in the bedroom so I bought an armoire that I assembled and I bought a used chest of drawers. I also bought a used dinning room set from a Jericho neighbor and recushioned the chairs.

Marcia helped me choose Jericho Manor but then became very obstinate for some unknown reason. More than once, when I called for a date, she told me that now that I lived in Pennsylvania I should find someone to date in Pennsylvania. I didn't understand what had happened to our relationship. Reflecting, we had been together for four years but subject of marriage had never been mentioned.

With no one to date I found a friendly little bar in the neighboring town of Jenkintown and began going there to shoot pool. I made many friends there and at Christmas I celebrated the holiday by buying gifts for the regulars.

In the spring I heard of a night club in Blue Bell, PA known as the Blue Bell Inn. They had "singles night" every Tuesday with music and dancing. I found the Blue Bell Inn and the first Tuesday night I was there I struck up a conversation with a lady sitting next to me. I asked her to dance. She said she didn't dance but her friend Betty was a good dancer and she introduced me to Betty.

Betty and I hit it off immediately. She was a good dancer and we began dating and on a regular basis. Almost every Friday and Saturday night we went out to dinner. Everyone at the Blue Bell knew us because we often ended up there to dance after dinner on Friday and Saturday nights.

Betty had a lovely home in Layfayette Hills and a beautiful cat named Muffy. Her daughter, grand daughter and son-in-law lived just minutes away so we saw them quite often. I always stayed overnight with Betty on Friday and Saturday but she would send me home by seven o'clock on Sunday night.

After seven years with Betty I wanted more than just a weekend relationship. From Sunday night until the next Friday night we were strangers. I wanted a phone call, a night watching TV together, or going to a movie; even an occasional Tuesday night at the Blue Bell. But she declined.

Meanwhile, the photo industry was changing as digital appeared on the scen. I was low man on the totem pole and when I began to hear the word "layoff," I decided I shold try to find a more secure job. My opportunity came with Lightship Corporation in center city Philadelphia.

Lightship was running PRIME software and in the business of buying past due receivables at pennies on a dollar and then collecting the total debt. I had a bright office on the 16th floor of an office building on Chestnut Street in downtown Philadelphia. But I did not find the security I was looking for. Lightship was struggling and about to go out of business.

Just in time an ad appeared in the newspaper. The Philadelphia Housing Authority was looking for a PICK programmer. By now I had five years of experience in PICK and PRIME and could write software that would do anything I wanted it to do; payroll, general ledger, inventory, receivables or payables. I applied at the Housing Authority and got the job.

It was with Betty, though, that I got my precious cat Brandy. It was October 1994 and someone found a tiny kitten by the roadside. I adopted the adorable little kitten and named her Brandy. She loved sitting in the window sill and watching the birds in the tree.

Working for the city of Philadelphia, though, I had to agree to live in the city. I managed to avoid moving for almost two years before they gave me a mandate to move or lose my job. I chose to move to Chestnut Hill. It was witthin the city but had the prestiege of Abington.

 
After going to work for the Housing Authority I had to live in the city of Philadelphia. I chose Chestnut Hill, an upscale area north of the city of Philadelphia but within the city limits. Chestnut Hill was known for its unique boutiques, inviting restaurants, historic homes, and the Woodmere Art Museum.

In June 1995 found a roomy, comfortable, one bedroom, first-floor apartment in Chestnut Hill Village in Chestnut Hill. The apartment had a view of a grassy courtyard from the living room and dinning room windows. The living room was very large so I bought a nice entertainment center and set up a efficient but compact office, where I would spend many hours writing programs.

The apartment had a handy walk-in storage closet in the hallway and a small dressing table and mirror outside the bathroom. The bedroom was large enough for all my furniture. I decorated the dining room with my table and chairs from Jericho Manor, bookcases, artwork, and memorabilia. I even installed a "candle-burning" pewter chandelier. The kitchen had a "pass-through" to the dinning room and was big enough for my drop-leaf table.

In Abington I had had a 10-minute drive to the train station but Chestnut Hill had two SEPTA stations and one was just a short walk from the apartment. For a while my son Joe came to live with me at CHV. He had changed jobs and was working for the EPA in Philadelphia. Joe had a long drive from Brigantine, NJ where he was living just outside of Atlantic City and needed something closer to work until he could find a place of his own. They were great days for me. We took the train into Philadelphia each day and it was a lot of fun having Joe as a roommate. Too soon, for me though, Joe found a nice apartment and moved away.

Chestnut Hill borders Wissahicken Valley Park and, if you know the route, you could drive through Wissahicken Park to Fairmount Park and right into the city of Philadelphia. The scenes in Wissahicken Valley Park and along Wissahickon Creek are popular subjects for artists and photographers. Another popular subject in the park is the historic Valley Green Inn. The inn was built in 1850 by Edward Rinker and was originally called Edward Rinker’s Temperance Tavern. The Valley Green Inn is located on the gravelly, serpentine path known as Valley Green Road that skirts the gurgling creek. The histroic inn is the last remaining example of the many roadhouses and taverns that served and watered the carriage trade along the Wissahickon in the 19th Century.

While at Chestnut Hill Village, I bought another new Mitsubishi Gallant but someone stole all 4 wheels. Except for that, life was great at CHV. Brandy and I lived there for five years before I decided to buy a house in Philadelphia and moved to Fairmount.

 
Now that I had steady employment and a good salary, I wanted to have my own home. A friend suggested I invest in a triplex in the desirable Art Museum Area of Philadelphia.

Officially the area is known as Fairmount, an old established neighborhood named for the hill upon which the majestic Art Museum stands. Most of the homes are row houses that were built in the late 1800's and early 1900's. The area is known for its nearby museums, chic restaurants and sidewalk cafes. It borders Fairmount Park where the Schuylkill River winds its way past the Art Museum and Fairmount Waterworks and Boathouse Row.

With a corner building, all of the apartments had windows on three sides making them bright and cheery. All of the apartments had eat-in kitchens with dishwashers and garbage disposals. And every apartment had overhead fans in the bedrooms and living rooms. The building had hot water oil heat so the heat was included but the tenants were responsible for their own gas and electricity.

Window air conditioners were originally the responsibility of the tenants but moving them and installing them appeared to be a hazard. I had visions of someone dropping an A/C from a second or third floor window. So, I installed two 6,000 BTU units in every apartment. The A/Cs could be covered in the winter and I didn't have tenants dragging them up and down from the basement between seasons. Best of all I advertised "air conditioned" and got a little higher rent.

I took the first-floor apartment for myself because it was the smallest apartment, it didn't have steps and it had a covered cement patio in the back with an exit onto 27th Street. However, the first-floor required the most work. It had 10-foot ceilings and the living room ceiling was stained so first I repainted all the ceilings using popcorn paint. The windows and frames were in bad shape so I resurfaced the frames and repaired the windows. It was a lot of work but I ended up with a beautiful living room.

The original bathroom was horrible, but my son Robert retiled the bathroom, replaced the floor, tub, sink, toilet, and the fixtures. The remodeled bathroom was beautiful. The first-floor bedroom was small because the entrance foyer and stairs took up a lot of the space in the front of the building. There was a built-in closet in the bedroom hallway but I managed to get all my furniture, an armoire, chest of drawers, dresser, and a desk, into the room along with the bed. A few years later I installed two mirrored closets along the south wall and installed storage cabinets above them. I moved the desk into the living room and eliminated the armoire.

The best feature of the first-floor apartment was its huge eat-in kitchen. I hung a magnificent leaded glass chandelier and used my dining room table from Jericho Manor. Later I painted the kitchen in two shades of green and bought a glass and wrought iron table set. All of the apartments had beautiful glass-front wood cabinets in the kitchen but the first-floor had lots of work space with a row of attractive cabinets along the wall opposite the sink and stove.

The 2nd floor apartment was one bedroom but it had a large den that could be used a second bedroom. The living room was in the back and featured a cozy little deck. The 3rd floor apartment was the nicest and largest apartment. The entrance was actually on the second floor so the steps to the apartment were actually in the apartment. There were two separate bedrooms and the living room featured a great view of the city from a large window at the back of the building.

Unique to my corner building was the bright basement. Since 27th St. ran downhill from the front of the building to the back the basement had three big windows and an outside entrance along 27th. This added a lot of value to the property because was not dark and damp like the basements of other row houses. There was actually a full bathroom in the basement and storage closets for each tenant. Originally there was a coin-operated washer and dryer but maintenance costs and replacement of commercial units was twice the cost of residential appliances. So, I replaced them with standard Maytag appliances and raised the rent to include "free" laundry facilities.

There was a down side to having a corner building though; shoveling snow. There was not only the front walk to shovel but also the sidewalk running the length of the building along 27th Street. I had the best tenants ever. In the 18 years I owned the building, August 1998 until August 2015, I had just two tenants occupy the third floor, three tenants occupy the second floor and one tenant who moved into the first-floor when I moved out.

I bought my second triplex (black doors in photo) because it was just one door down on Brown Street and was selling for a good price. The house between my two properties remained a single-family home where two brothers lived with their elderly mother. I owned this building for 7 1/2 years from January 2002 to June 2009.

You cannot tell from the street view, but these rowhouses are designed with a narrow alley between them. There are windows on one side of every room and the windows do not look across into the adjacent building's windows. However, the basements in the middle buildings have only two tiny windows in the front at ground level. The nice basement added a lot of value to my corner building.

The apartments were nice but the building itself needed a lot of work. I put a new roof on the building and replaced all the windows except the front window on the first-floor. I also had to resurface the bricks on the chimney.

The apartments in this building were larger but they did not have all the amenities of my other building. They had garbage disposals but the stoves were apartment size and they did not have dishwashers. However, the second and third floor apartments in this building had beautiful hardwood floors.

Like my other building, this one had hot water oil heat so the heat was included but the gas and electricity were the tenants' responsibility. Since the corner building had laundry facilities, I let the tenants in this building use the laundry. It was a good selling point when renting the apartments. Each tenant had a key to the basement entrance outside on 27th street for the laundry so they did not need access through our building.

The first-floor kitchen was larger than mine. It had a nice and the bedroom had a normal size closet. However, to get the extra room the first-floor bathroom was located behind the kitchen located off the "mud room" that lead outside to the back yard. I once thought about moving into this larger apartment, and Brandy would have loved its grass back yard with its brick patio, but I would have missed the cement patio and the easy access to 27th street. On the other hand, I would have liked the big refrigerator and it would have saved some inconvenient maintenance on my part. I discovered that tenants are not interested in cutting grass.

The second and third floor apartments both had two bedrooms with nice closets. second-floor kitchen was also an eat-in kitchen. The third-floor kitchen was an eat-in kitchen but with an apartment size refrigerator. The third-floor stairway was too narrow to fit a full-size refrigerator. The narrow stairway also limited what furniture the tenant could get up the stairs. However, this apartment had two very large bedroom; one in the front and one at the back of the apartment.

The basement in this building was useless. It was too damp for suitable storage and replacing water heaters was an expensive nightmare since the water had to be pumped out of the old heater before it could be removed.

 
It was June 2002 when I played my first game of golf and the lady that I was dating was responsible for it. After getting hooked on the game, she and I golfed nearly every weekend weather permitting. She was a retired school teacher and worked part-time for a textbook company and traveled extensively during the school year. I missed golf in the cold winters of Philadelphia so I began to accompany her on her trips to places with warm climates and places we could golf. One of those trips was to Mesa, Arizona.

After golfing in Arizona, I decided it was where I wanted to retire. With 325 days of sunshine each year I could spend my days playing golf, my Friday nights dining out and dancing and my Sundays throwing something on the grill. When her son decided to move his family to Arizona, it clinched the idea that we would move there also.

We liked Mesa and the price of homes in Mesa was much less than the more prestigious communities like Scottsdale. Mesa was ideal for its cultured and homey downtown area and its close proximity to Old Town Scottsdale and the Phoenix airport. Housing prices were escalating rapidly in Arizona and on one of her business trips to Mesa, Arizona we decided to look for a house we could buy and rent until we were ready to move.

On our trip to Mesa in May of 2005, Anita and I found a charming house in Red Mountain Ranch Country Club in the northeast panhandle of Mesa. It had three bedrooms, two baths, and a nice back yard with a swimming pool. It was in a gated area of Red Mountain Ranch. Red Mountain was a golf community with a challenging Pete Dye golf course. The house was not on the course but it was across the street from the houses that were on the 15th fairway of the course. We decided to buy the house and, although it took until November, we found a nice family who leased the house for a year.

Anita's son was a construction engineer and he wanted to build a custom home. He and his wife purchased a property in Fountain Hills, a beautiful growing community but far outside of the city of Phoenix. When the lease ended on our Mesa house in November 2006, Bill and Hana wanted to rent the house while their house was being built. Everything seemed to be working out in a way that would benefit everyone. In December Anita and I flew to Phoenix to celebrate Christmas with her kids at our house. I rented a Cadillac, Hana's mother was visiting from Czechoslovakia and we celebrated our good fortune even spending a December evening sitting out around the swimming pool.

Bill and Hanna were golfers. Bill was actually the guy who took me golfing for the first time and we had all golfed together as a family many times. We could only join the RMR Country Club in January so we thought it might be a good time to join the Country Club. In addition to golf, the club had lighted tennis courts, a community swimming pool, and a well-equipped fitness center. So, while we were still in Mesa celebrating the Christmas holiday, I paid the $8,110 RMRCC golf membership fee. The monthly fee for golf would be $425. However, by the time we got back to Philadelphia, Bill, Hanna and Anita all decided they weren't interested in golf, tennis or the fitness center. And just like that I was stuck with the $8k membership fee and $5,000 for golf that no one would be playing.

After moving into the house, Bill wanted us to replace the builder-grade appliances that came with the house. We agreed since they would eventually be our appliances. We bought a new Maytag washer and dryer and replaced the refrigerator, dishwasher, microwave and garbage disposal with new top-of-the-line appliances. Then, in less than 6 months, Bill and Hana MOVED OUT! They scrapped the idea of building their home in Fountain Hills and bought a house in the neighboring community of Las Sendas. Red Mountain was on the west side of Power Road and Las Sendas was on the east side. Once again Anita and I flew to Arizona. This time to see the $1 million Las Sendas house and for Anita to visit her granddaughter.

At this point I was beginning to believe that my best option might be to MOVE TO ARIZONA. I owned six rental properties in Philadelphia and my experience with renters told me that renting a house with expensive new appliances would not be a good idea. Also, tenants don't clean swimming pools or do yard work. Plus, it had taken six months to find our first tenant and during that time it cost me $19,872 for mortgage, association dues, utilities and maintenance. During the year the house was rented to the Acosta family those expenses totaled $24,562. That was offset by their $16,800 in rent and they paid gas and electric, but I still lost $7,762. During the five months Bill and Hanna rented the house the expenses were $21,605, including $635 I paid Bill for cleaning the house and the $425 monthly golf fee. That was offset by $7,000 in rent for a loss of $14,605. Adding those losses together brought my total out-of-pocket expenses to $42,239.

When Anita and I bought the house, my money was tied up in my Philadelphia properties so we agreed that she would cash in a stock investment for the $65,000 down-payment. I would pay the $7,300 in closing costs, the mortgage, the association dues, water and the upkeep until I matched her down-payment. At the time, it seemed to be a very workable plan. However, now my expense jumped by $8,110 for the golf membership, $6,800 for new furnishings and upgrades, and $7,486 for the travel expenses of our trips to Phoenix, all of which I had paid for. In the 23 months we owned the house, my out-of-pocket expenses totaled $64,634, just $366 less than her $65,000 down payment.

Now that Anita's family and granddaughter were in Arizona, she decided to sell her house in Doylestown, PA and we would both move. Her house sold within weeks and our move was planned. However, there was a new problem. After seeing her son's house Anita wanted to turn our $367,000 house into his million-dollar home. She wanted to replace all the ceramic tile with travertine tile. Since we were replacing all the tile, we should replace the carpet in the bedroom hallway with travertine tile also. If we're replacing tile let's install a mosaic medallion in the foyer. And while we are at it, let's also add a stone facáde to the fireplace.

By June 2007 it was time for us to move to Arizona. The tile work was finished and new carpet was installed in the living room and the bedroom. The moving truck was loaded and heading west. Anita, her dog Schnapps and I loaded up her red Jeep and head for Mesa, Arizona. Upon arrival I helped with all the unpacking and then flew back to Philadelphia. I had to rent my apartment and arrange for someone to manage the six rental units.

While I was in Philadelphia, Anita decorated the bedroom with her bedroom set but she bought new furniture for the living room and, what she called an office & sewing room. We decided not to use the dining area as a dining room but to make it part of the living room and to turn the breakfast area into the formal dining room. Anita bought a new dining room set, table, chairs and hutch. I laid the $1,350 oriental carpet I bought in New Hope and hung the $6,300 hand-painted, hand-forged Nicolae Vishu chandelier that I bought in Scottsdale.

In the family room we added the stone facád to the fireplace and replaced the sliding glass doors with French doors and a transom. The side panels and doors had venetian blinds between the glass panels. The back yard got a face lift as well. My glass-top kitchen set from Philly became our patio table, Anita's outdoor sets decorated the yard and the pool planter came alive with colorful flowers.

The house was beautiful but Anita wanted a new kitchen. The old all-white kitchen had to go. After months of searching, we found the most beautiful, one-of-a-kind, very expensive Brazilian Verde granite you can imagine. One solid slab of the Brazilian granite was used to create the kitchen island. The island got a new sink, drop-down lighting and new bar stools. The second slab of granite was used to make the counter tops The backsplash was tiled, the kitchen was painted and, finally, Anita had her new kitchen. It was beautiful.

Unfortunately, I would never get to enjoy any of this. Perhaps I had assumed too much. I continued to pay all the expenses but once we moved in together, I expected that we could each pay for our personal needs, cars, clothes, and medical care but we would share all of the household expenses. Anita had already made it clear she would not pay for the Club and I felt I had paid enough when I added in the cost of our travels and entertainment. Her remark was, "Did I track every piece of gum she chewed?" She insisted that I fudged the accounts and didn't deduct, as she put it, "all the rent I got." She insisted I was cheating her but refused to look at the spreadsheets and to discuss it.

However, in the nine years I owned my properties in Philadelphia, I kept meticulous accounting records. My Philadelphia accountant, Bill Holtzman, would attest to the accuracy and detail of my spreadsheets. I addition, I had given her the federal tax deduction on the mortgage payments because I didn't need the deduction with my properties. I spent about $2,300 a year on golf and now I was paying over $5,000 a year. She was not only refusing to contribute to the mortgage, utilities and maintenance, but she decided that buying food, household supplies and maintenance were not her responsibility either.

See the Before and After Photos of the Mesa house

 
What happened after Anita and I moved in together I never expected. She hated my cat. We shared nothing. She had her food. I had mine. What I cooked she wouldn't eat. What she cooked I was not welcome to eat. What I cleaned she criticized once yelling and screaming because I had not "dusted the lampshades" when I invited my golf buddy and his wife for dinner.

For 30 years I did my own cooking, shopping, cleaning and laundry. I dusted when I saw dust, my bathroom and my home were always clean. My bed was always made, my clothes were expensive, organized in closets and dirty clothes were always in the hamper.

In Philadelphia Anita and I had a fairly happy relationship, albeit a "weekend" relationship. I drove to her house on Saturday and returned home on Sunday night or Monday morning. I was a big fan of the PGA tournaments on Sunday television and Anita encouraged me to learn to play golf. I loved the game and during the summer months we played golf almost every weekend, usually my treat. However, there were early signs that our relationship might not work. My friends did not like Anita. I loved to dance and we were often complimented on our dancing. I was always a good dancer and was used to getting complimented on my dancing but it wasn't long before she refused to dance claiming "I was showing off." Even on the cruise we took to the Baltic Sea countries and Russia with her friends, she would not dance.

It was July of 2007 before I finalized my business in Philadelphia and headed back to live in Arizona. I was driving my car across country and bringing my cat, Brandy. My good friend Kevin's wife, Sharon, wanted to join me on the trip. I had known Sharon for over seven years and she I often golfed together. She was "dying" to see the west and Kevin didn't like to travel. Sharon had cats and offered to help out with Brandy, to help with the driving and to provide some company on the five-day trip. The day we left, Brandy and I met Sharon and Kevin at the King of Prussia Mall. We loaded my green Cadillac with her luggage and the three of us headed west. It was a great trip taking 5 days and Brandy was purr-fect. To our surprise, she waited until we stopped for the night to use her litter box. Each night Sharon and I would have dinner together and in the morning meet for breakfast. The first night in the motel with Brandy, I stuffed pillows everywhere I thought she could hide before I went out for dinner. However, when I got back to the room, she was curled up on the bed and that’s where she slept each night.

Sharon and I stopped to see a few of the sights along the way like the Gateway Arch in St. Louis and had a very enjoyable trip. But a major scene was about to erupt the evening Sharon and I arrived in Mesa. When Anita found out Sharon was "vegan" she had a meltdown. Apparently, she had made dinner with meat and was livid that I hadn't told her. But Anita knew Sharon. We had played golf together several times and I actually didn't remember Sharon was vegan because she never made it an issue of it. But Anita felt "insulted!" I was embarrassed.

What appalled Sharon the most during her stay, was that Anita hated my cat. My poor cat had lived a very peaceful life with never a threat but now she had a dog that would chase her like a squirrel. The dog had the run of the house and Brandy was banished to the office where a child gate kept the dog out. Brandy hid in the office closet cautiously coming out only to eat and use her litter box. Sharon only stayed in Mesa a few days before flying home but it was long enough for her and I to play a round of golf and for her to witness my retirement dream turning into a nightmare. And that first round of golf at Red Mountain Ranch, it literally cost me $10,235.

My life became one of eating alone and sleeping in the guest bedroom. My health was deteriorating. I would put the dog in its kennel after she went to bed at night and sneak my fourteen-year-old cat out for some exercise. That exploded when Anita discovered "Brandy's footprints" one morning in a ray of sunlight that was shining across the dining room table. The constant barrage of insults and harassment lead to heated arguments. I took long rides on my bike each morning to get away from the trauma and relax. Often taking a long break in the RMR community park where people were enjoying life.

On Thanksgiving morning of 2007, I awoke to her screaming "What's this $hit in my oven?" Checking into her problem I discovered some dust had settled in the oven from digging up the ceramic tile when it was replaced with the travertine tile. Apparently, the oven had not been used since we moved in. This behavior continued to escalate. I often took an afternoon nap and occasionally had a beer with lunch. She told her friends that "I drank and fell asleep in a drunken stoper." When I complained she told me to "Get some balls. It was a joke!" More often she claimed I "dreamed stuff" and that I was "passive aggressive." She used these arguments so often that I was beginning to doubt my own sanity. I began to carry a small voice-activated tape recorder in my pocket to find out whether I was losing my mind or if she was manipulating my life. I had evidence. I was not losing my mind.

By October 2007 I began to plan some way that I could move out without losing everything. I secretly rented a storage unit and, while she was away on her business trips, began collecting my things that were stored in the attic and whatever else I could take without being discovered. I was careful to avoid the neighbors whom I felt she may have won over with untruths about me. I had that experience with neighbors once and hadn't forgotten. Somehow, we made it through the holidays but in March 2008 I rented a condominium on Recker Road in Mesa. While Anita was away on business, I emptied the storage unit, took my cat, my clothing and all of my personal belongings and moved into my condominium. When she came home late Sunday afternoon, I broke the news that I had moved out and I was only there to say goodbye.

That might sound cruel but as she stood in the kitchen savoring the ice cream sundae that she bought for herself I didn't feel guilty at all. This relationship was literally destroying my mental and physical health and my cat's health. Now my cat would be free, I would be free and the condo I rented was close enough to Red Mountain Ranch that I could keep my golf membership and my friends. I do regret not renting a truck and trying to get help moving. Moving out in secret there was a lot of expensive items I had to leave behind; the oriental carpet, a $6,300 chandelier, an antique marble-top Bombay chest, my kitchen table and chairs, a marble and glass coffee table, my living room end tables, artwork, a $1,000 Jenn-Air grill and there wasn't room at the condo for my bicycle. At the time, however, I felt what I had to sacrifice was not worth my mental and physical health.

When I moved, I had to buy small kitchen appliances like a coffee maker and toaster oven and I slept on an air mattress until the bedroom set was delivered. I had to buy build-it-yourself dining room furniture at Target and office furniture at Office Max but the rooms came out looking splendid. Next came new living room furniture, tables, lamps, sofa and lounge chair. Eventually I was able to get my wrought iron bed back for my guest bedroom after loaning it to Anita's son and daughter-in-law to fill up the fourth bedroom in their million-dollar home at Las Sendas in Mesa.

I left my friends and my life Philadelphia to enjoy my retirement playing golf, dining out and dancing and I was determined that I was not giving any of it up. I had tried online dating once in Philly and I ended up with Anita but I decided to give it a try once again. At the age of 68 I was not about to go bar hopping and I was way out of practice in dancing and romancing a stranger.

I created a profile on a dating website looking for a lady who enjoyed golf and dancing. Joan's profile fit perfectly and I was interested. Since this was not my first experience with online dating, I hoped to avoid the whimsical chit-chat that goes on and on for months so I asked her for a date. Her answer was "yes" but she added "I do not do coffee and I do not do fast-food!" I invited her to meet at Morton's Steak House. We had cocktails and continued by having dinner. After dinner we had drinks at Tommy Bahamas.