Salute to a Doll

I didn't have any toy nor a doll, which I dreamed to have. My early childhood was during WWII, a time of survival only.
But I remember a special event in my life, related to a beautiful doll.
It was my first day of school, 1940 or 1942. My mother had prepared a school bag out of her old navy-colored coat. My father had given me a copybook, pencil and eraser. With all the excitement of a school bag and a blue uniform, I held my mother's hand and left home cheerfully.
As we approached the school, I started to tremble. Something was choking me,a feeling of separation from my mother.
At the door of KG, the teacher embraced me, held my hand, and said, "I'm Miss Shoushan, and you are very beautiful, a very nice girl. Come in."
My mother let go my hand and started to walk away, with tears in her eyes. I cried, too, and tried to run after her.
But Miss Shoushan took me in her arms, kissed me, and handed me a beautiful doll. She had big blue eyes, curly brown hair, and was dressed in pink.
I wiped my tears.
I didn't look for my mother any more. She had gone.
"She may sit by you in the class," said the teacher.
And that was it.
The doll sitting by me had opened the door to my love of education.
Now, many years later, I feel grateful to a teacher, who, most probably without the required credentials of nowadays, knew the simplest way to guide her students toward a love of education.
I say today, "Salute to a doll."
written by Jeanette Kassouny

An educator and writer of Armenian descent, Jeanette Kassouny is a dedicated member of "Tea and Tales" a writing class taught by Fjaere Mooney and offered by the Programs for Older Adults, North Hollywood Community Adult School, at Valley Village Senior Apartments.

My Private Window to Knowledge

To Whom It May Concern:

Education is my private window to knowledge. Knowledge is the pathway that has broadened my horizons, and touched the four corners of the earth.

In my many accumulated birthdays, I have learned two very important lessons. The first: how much I don't know. The second: there is much power in listening, and, in order to achieve that power, we not only have to listen: we must learn to hear with minds and hearts.

Education has become an essential part of my golden years. it has stimulated my mind, body and spirit. It has challenged my imagination, by stirring my poetic ability to plant seeds for thought, not only for myself,but, hopefully, for others as well.

Education has become conducive to my curiosity in my search and journey into Capricorn. It has kept me alive and alert, wondering what awaits me around the corner, over the hill, and at the top of the mountain, It excites me in the race and chase toward the unknown at the end of the rainbow.

Education has stirred every emotion, to the point of my raining tears in the bittersweet world of poetry and pain, success and failure, joy and sadness, laughter and depression, happiness at its very best, war at its worst, to the moment of truce.

I have learned from my many journeys, experiences and adventures, and, very best of all, from a cross-section of cultures and peoples. I have been blessed with the ability to make life a little less difficult for others, with the stroke of a pen.

But, most of all, education, to me, means that I am able, through my writing to share with others the deliverance from out of the darkened shadows of ignorance.

-Joe Jelikovsky

Joe Jelikovsky is a poet, visionary, and member of the LAUSD Programs for Older Adults, "Tea and Tales" writer's group, Valley Village, CA. He'd love to read your comments.

The Birth of Anne Dudnick Cohen

B I R T H

by: Anne Dudnick Cohen

Anne Dudnick Cohen, a girl, was born on February 19, 1920, in a bed placed in the dining room of her parent's home in South Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In truth she was not wanted, coming too soon after the birth of her sister and her parents did not need another mouth to feed. Times were bad and the effects of the first World War were still being felt, as well as the aftermath of the flu that had run rampant throughout the United States. Nevertheless, this baby decided she was entering this world and nothing would stop her. There must have been a doctor that came to the house, but the birth proved to be an easy one. Her parents, Hyman and Blanche Dudnick were married August 5th, 1916, and after this baby was born, she was very much wanted and loved by everyone in her family.

The year 1920 proved to be an interesting year: Warren G. Harding, a Republican, was president. For the women of American, however, it was a most successful year because the Suffragist Movement finally paid off, after many years of marches and spending months in jail, women got the right to vote. Refrigerators were not as yet invented, and everyone had an ice box with a basin underneath that collected the water as the ice melted. Washing machines also had not been invented, and housewives washed clothes in a round metal tub placed in the kitchen and scrubbed away on a washboard, and then boiled the bedsheets in a metal tub on the kitchen stove, and finally finished by hanging all of the washed items outside on clothes lines with wooden pegs. Wagons were pulled by horses, carrying ice, bread, fruit and vegetables. These were the days before Supermarkets were formed, and housewives had to go to the various stores for the individual items they needed to make the meals they put on the table for their families.

In some ways, it was a happier time in spite of the financial problems that affected everyone. Housewives made friends with the storekeepers, most people sat out in front of their homes after dinner and conversed with their neighbors. Children all played together on the pavements or out in the street. I remember going to the public library on Saturday mornings and listening to the stories the Librarians would read to us. The movie houses were close by and a great form of entertainment, people listened to music on their victrolas while playing their records, or spent a little time listening to other people's conversations on their two-party telephones. I can remember someone ringing our house bell and telling us that we have a telephone call at the corner drug store. It was customary to give the kid a nickel for his trouble, run to the drug store, enter a booth, sit down, close the door and have a telephone conversation.

The technological development that has occurred by the end of the 20^th Century and continuing into the 21^st Century is absolutely astonishing! However, the human need for love, friendship, companionship, stimulating conversation, education and entertainment is just as strong as today as it ever was!!

Anne Dudnick Cohen is a published writer, former member of The Royal Belllingham Literary Group, and now a proud member of Tea and Tales Writing Group. She loves writing poetry, telling stories and cracking people up. She is 89 years young. She is currently working on a dramatic monologue which will be performed Monday, March 22, 2010. More details to come on that!

Toy Story

Joe Jelikowsky

TOY STORY

I was eight years old, when we lived off Temple and
Edgeware Road. My father had just died from a heart
attack. He was 42 years of age. As my brother and sister
were both married, it was just my mother and myself at
home.

My mother was a very strong and demanding
woman. As a special treat, every Saturday afternoon,
my mother would take me to a movie at the R.K.O or
Warner Brothers. After the treat, we’d go to Newberry,
or Kreiss’ Five and Ten Cent Store, where I would get a
bacon and tomato sandwich. Then, my mother would give
me ten cents and I would go crazy looking at all the toys.

This particular afternoon, as my mother went to
pay the lunch bill, I saw a red fire engine on top of the
register, and my eyes opened up like grapefruits. I asked
her if I could have the fire engine.

She asked the clerk how much it was. The clerk said
it was six dollars. My mother said it was way too much.
She went on to ask if I wanted something else that was
much cheaper.

I said, “If I can’t have that, I want nothing.”

She said, in a very strong tonality, “Then you get
nothing.”

The moral to this story is, we should be more
concerned with what comes out of our mouths than what
goes in, or, “Think very carefully before you speak.”


Written by Joe Jelikowsky

Joe Jelikowsky is a poet and life story writer from Los Angeles, Ca. He is a valued member of “Tea and Tales” a life-story and personal recollections class through North Hollywood Community Adult School, LAUSD, Programs for Older Adults.

Francesca Riviere

"My Birth"

I was born on January 8, 1945, a few months before Harry S. Truman dropped the bombs on Japan. My father was a captain in the Army, stationed in China, at the time: Francis John Sims.
My mother, Virginia Marie Sims, had received a medical discharge from the WAVES, after she became pregnant with me, and was at the movies with my grandfather watching a Western, when she went into labor. (I have always disliked Westerns, guns, and shooting noises.)
I was born in Glendale, California, a third-generation California native.
My parents had met at Hollywood High School. When my father came home from the War, I was about one year old.
Although he had a degree in Geology, my father could not find a decent job at that time, and worked pumping gas for Standard Oil.
Things deteriorated quickly between my parents. They divorced. My mother signed up as a policewoman with the LAPD.
My own official greeting to the world occurred at church one Sunday, when I was one year old. As the priest bellowed his sermon, "And the Lord cried out..." I said, "Hi!" breaking up the congregation and the priest. From my lips to God's ears?
To this day, I still get myself into trouble, blurting things out.

-- Francesca Riviere, writer, is a proud member of "Tea and Tales," a Family Recollections and Personal History class, offered by the Programs for Older Adults, LAUSD, North Hollywood Community Adult School.

Sam is Concerned.

To Whom It May Concern:

I am an 88 year old, first generation, American-born senior adult, and an honorably discharged World War II veteran.
My reason for writing this letter is to protest against the reduction or elimination of these important and viable Old Adult education classes.
The classes I am currently experiencing have changed my life.
When my wife passed away a few years ago, I virtually became a hermit, and felt that life was no longer worth living. My ultimate contact and introduction to Older Adult Education, via an exceptionally talented and worthy teacher named Fiera Mooney, brought me out of, and ended my depression. It restored my mind. I became a living, productive person again for my family, friends and community.
I can relate many incidents and times that I have had contact with children: when I inform them that I attend older adult classes, they listen intently. I tell them how important good education really is to their futures.
I sincerely believe that any curtailing of Older Adult Education would only result in the dismal failure of public education, setting an example that could have a profound effect on our children as well as on senior adults. Do we. as a society, really value life-long learning?
Unfortunately, when we experience an economic crisis in our country, it seems that the cuts are always made, starting from the bottom. I think it's time we should make cuts from the top.
Maybe we should think about pay cuts for state and federal legislators and ask administrators, as well, to help out financially, in such times as these.
Respectfully yours,
Samuel Krause
Older Adult Student
North Hollywood
Community Adult School
at Valley Village Senior Apts

Our First ElderBlog! Read and Enjoy

Sam Krause is a proud member of the LAUSD Family History and Personal Recollections Class, we affectionately call, "Tea and Tales." Now 88 years old, Sam remembers what he has been told about his own birth! We welcome your comments! Cheers, Fiera

MY BIRTH
By Samuel Krause
I was born June 16, 1921, in Philadelphia, number four of a family of five, three daughters and two sons, the family of Ben and Ann Krause. I wasn’t very aware when it happened, because I was more concerned with getting out from the confinement at the time, more than anything else.
That being the case, I can’t tell you factually how and what actually happened. I can tell you what I have been told since then. Apparently, my mother had not made any transportation plan to get to the hospital for my arrival, so my birth did not happen as normally expected. When it suddenly happened, and transportation was finally secured to the hospital, lo and behold, my mom and I were taken from the taxi into the emergency room by the Methodist Hospital medical staff.
From that point, my life progressed somewhat normally, and I grew up to be the typical “I do it so” kid. I was kind of my mother’s favorite one of the bunch and somewhat spoiled a little. I didn’t mind that, because I got away with as much as I could, and that wasn’t easy to do in the group of five.
One of the most memorable things I was told and remember while growing up was that Warren Harding was President when I was born. I also vividly remember the Philadelphia 1926/1927 Sesquicentennial, with the huge Liberty Bell that was erected over Broad Street. Cars could drive under or around it, in going to and from the main exhibition grounds. One other major event I remember was the colossal and famous Dempsey/Tunney fight that is now inscribed in history.
Years beyond my birth, after serving in the Army during WWII,
I moved my family to California, where I’m now growing very old and useless to society and the ladies.