Cheryl's mom grew up in Newport, Rhode Island.
You've heard of Newport... the Vanderbilts, the Astors, Doris Duke (of... gulp... Duke University fame, not to be confused with Daisy Duke) and the Bouviers (of Jackie O. fame) have all, at one time or another, owned homes in Newport. Perhaps Daisy Duke did too, but I cannot be sure of that. I can be sure that the Vanderbilts and Astors competed with one another to see who could build the most ostentatious "summer cottage." And by "summer cottage" I really mean mansion. Ah, the Gilded Age.
 |
| The Breakers |
For those of you that are familiar with Maryland, Newport is a lot like Annapolis... only on steroids. Newport is an island surrounded by the beautiful shores of the Atlantic Ocean and Narragansett Bay.
 |
| Bowen's Wharf |
Everyone should try to get to Newport, and if you do, hit the Black Pearl and have some clam chowder, tour the "summer cottages," fly kites at Brenton Point, have a drink and watch the sunset at Ocean Cliff, spend a day or two at one of the numerous beaches, walk the cliff walk and take a boat tour.
 |
| The Cliff Walk |
You may think Newport is just for the rich and famous. Not so. Some other Newport natives include Mrs. Norman, Mrs. Question Mark, the Balls, the Misorskis and the Speros. I am guessing that none of you have ever heard of these folks.
Well, "Mrs. Norman" was the name that my then-eight-year-old mother-in-law gave herself, as she and her friend, "Mrs. Question Mark" (I guess they couldn't come up with a definite name for her) strolled down through the wealthy neighborhood looking for dropped gems. Irene Ball was my mother-in-law's best friend (the aforementioned Mrs. Question Mark), the Misorskis were my mother-in-law's neighbors, and the Speros were my mother-in-law's.
Unfortunately, these were the poor people of Newport.
Think about this, if things had been a little bit different, I could have married a Vanderbilit. "Mark Vanderbilt" has a nice ring to it... and yes, I would have changed my name for obvious reason$.
The first time that I visited Newport was almost twenty-five years ago. Cheryl and I were engaged, and I was going up to meet my mother-in-law's family. Several of Cheryl's aunts and uncles were still living in Newport.
Both Cheryl and I come from large families with Italian heritage. My dad's family all spoke Italian. In fact, whenever the matriarch of our family, my Aunt Mary, called our house, she started out in broken English and would sprint to the finish line in full-out Italian... only my dad could understand her.
The Speros were an Italian family that never spoke a word of Italian... with the exception of the word for refrigerator, which they referred to as the Ice-a Boxxa! Their thinking was that if you live in America... you speak English.
The matriarch of the Speros was Cheryl's Aunt Marie, but everyone knew her as Aunt Toots. She counted her beach days, wrote to Cheryl's mom weekly, and never met a Pepperidge Farm cake she didn't want to pull out of the freezer and serve her visitors. She ultimately came to own the Spero family home... complete with "THE DOOR."
THE DOOR was a kitchen door that had a photo of anyone who was anyone in the family. On that first visit, the pressure was on me to "make THE DOOR." If Aunt Toots liked me, my mug was going up on THE DOOR. If not, the wedding was off!
Some said it could have been my one-way ticket out of my wedding, but at the time, I kind of dug Cheryl.
I met every one of Cheryl's local aunts and uncles on that first visit.
Like I said, Aunt Toots was the matriarch. Through the years, every Sunday, one by one, the rest of the family would pop in after church for fresh toasted rolls and coffee.
Uncle Mike served in WWII and, like his father, was a barber. Eventually, he had the coolest barber chair I'd ever seen, right in the middle of his house. Though tender-hearted to Cheryl, he was kind of opinionated, and was not afraid to give his opinion... even to his niece's "long-haired" fiance.
Uncle Vito (for those of you who are not Italian, all Italian families have an Uncle Vito) was a retired police officer who had great stories of his time on the force. One of my biggest regrets is seeing a post card with John Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy on their wedding day (in Newport) with a young police officer at their side. I am sure that it was Uncle Vito. Unfortunately, I did not buy that postcard. Uncle Vito was always a hit with Cheryl's brother and sisters, as he always had a cookout when they visited, complete with grilled hot dogs, colored marshmallows, and little pop-em firecrackers and confetti poppers.
Uncle Chuck, who may be the most interesting man alive, took us sailing every time we visited, and at 94 years old, he still goes out with his son-in-law.
There was Aunt Philomena, but everyone called her Aunt Dolly, or "Auntie Giggles"... for her pleasant disposition... and abundance of Oreo cookies... Have a cookie... don't tell your mother!
Rounding out the Spero clan was Uncle Anthony, gentle and kind. Cheryl recalls that when she was little, Uncle Anthony would smile, rocking in Aunt Toots' rocking chair near the kitchen window, smoking a pipe. Cheryl still loves the smell of pipe tobacco... and we have that rocking chair.
Aunt Teddy, fun and adventurous, had moved out west years before... and Aunt Helen who was always good to go the beach with Cheryl's family, also hosted a summer pool party cookout or two. Sadly, she passed away when Cheryl was a teenager.
This past week, Cheryl took our boys up to Newport for a visit.
 |
| Cheryl's blowout. Slight setback, but everybody safe and sound. |
Grace and I stayed home, as we had to work. Unfortunately, Cheryl had a blowout on the way up, and although everyone was okay, I decided to fly up by week's end and help with the drive home.
Of course, it doesn't hurt that I love Newport.
 |
| Gooseberry Beach |
Today, I sat on the beach and thought about our times in Newport... and about Cheryl's family.
As it turns out, the Vanderbilts had nothing on the Speros... except, of course, a ton of cash!
With the exception of my mother-in-law's stories, I always loved sitting and listening to the tales these folks would tell of growing up in Newport. Each had a different story to tell of life in Newport.
Just kidding about my mother-in-law's stories... I enjoy her stories, too. I just want to make sure she is paying attention to me.
In fact, my personal favorite Newport story involving my mother-in-law is that she loves Brenton Point. She loves it so much that she always has said that when she dies, she wishes she could have her ashes sprinkled there. Every time I go there with her, I offer to push her off the rocks and into the water thus saving everyone an extra trip up (just kidding Grammy!).
 |
| We all love Brenton Point! |
By the way, you know why my mother-in-law has to pay attention to me? Because Aunt Toots loved me. Was there ever any doubt? My picture went up on that door before I ever left Newport on that first visit.
I am in the family and there is nothing she can do about it!!!
And you know what? I don't think, either one of us would have it any other way!
Editor's note... Five years ago I wrote about a time when Mark and I took the kids to Newport. See here.
No comments:
Post a Comment