8.
The Art of Transcending Differences
Growing up, I remember thinking that my dad was very strong. He went to work in the morning, sometimes before we got up, and came home around dinner, or sometimes very late when I was already in bed.
He was a grocery store manager for ACME stores in Maryland (if you’re old enough, you remember ACME being in the Wile E. Coyote and Roadrun- ner cartoons). I never exactly knew what he did when I was younger, but I do remember that ACME stores had decided to close down their Maryland locations, and that meant my dad and mom had a decision to make. Would they move to Pennsylvania or Delaware where he would get a pay increase, or stay in Maryland, lose his position, and have to look for work somewhere else?
Because my brother and I were still quite young, they both decided it was best not to move us from our home to another state. They wanted us to keep our current friends, school situation, and neighborhood house. We lived on a dead-end street where every neighbor knew each other and would be there to help each other.
I remember one winter when Maryland had a major snowstorm where over twenty-four inches of snow fell in one day. The next day, being locked into a dead-end street where snow plows dared not tread (we were always the last street to plow), the entire neighborhood came out with their snow shovels and cleared the road and cars. This is such a vivid memory for me and possibly one of the best examples of a community coming together for a common purpose. My father spearheaded the charge from our house, and my brother and I were drafted into the snow-shoveling army. It felt great! Yeah, I was tired beyond belief after that day, but the bonds made for our little dead-end-street community were sealed even more that day.
Once the decision was made to stay in Maryland, there were a whole new set of issues. My father was out of work for almost six months. Things were