Bev's Closing Day becomes so much more, December 15, 1992.

HAVE YOU EVER GOOGLED YOUR NAME?

Well I did today, and one of the things that came up was a post on Block Shopper about real estate sale, when we bought our townhouse back in 1992. It said:

Buyer: Beverly GBenyamin, Lorens Y Benyamin $57,500 on Dec. 15, 1992 ...

DECEMBER 15, 1992???

The first thing that crossed my mind when I read that date was, thats Jen's birthday! Then I remembered what I was reading, and started laughing, oh yeah, the closing earlier in that day.

I THOUGHT I SHOULD SHARE THE STORY OF WHEN I SCREAMED AT THE TITLE LADY SHE WAS MY LAST DUCK!

We wanted everything to be perfect, in order, ALL OUR DUCKS IN A ROW, before the birth of our first child.

While I was pregnant, my hubby (who had dropped out of high school to work full time), went back to school and got his GED. I took Assyrian language classes at the local college to the delight of my in-laws because I wanted to pass some of my husbands language down to our children (which didn't happen, but I tried). And we were buying our first house (actually a very small town house). 

I had been ordered to be on complete bed rest since October 15th when I went into pre term labor. I was so excited the day of closing that I would get to leave the house. I HAD BEEN IN BED FOR 2 STRAIGHT MONTHS. I felt sure the baby was fine, secure and wanted her mama to get out and get some fresh air. 

Around lunchtime I had some cramping while I was moving around getting ready but I didn't think it was any big deal.

The closing was at a bank in a conference room. I asked if they could please turn down the heat and do something about the awful smell in the room. The lady from the title company said "maybe you're just overdressed, or maybe its just your hormones, ha ha ha" as she laughed at me, TOUCHING LORENS' ARM. 

So what I HEARD her say was SHE WAS THE REASON FOR THE AWFUL SMELL AND SHE WANTED A SLAP.

About an hour into closing, while the real estate agents, lawyers and title lady were small talking away with Lorens, I realized, I'm definitely in labor, but I wasn't ready to say it out loud yet.

I remember thinking, I GUESS THE DOCTOR WASN'T OVER EXAGGERATING ABOUT THAT 'COMPLETE' BED REST THING AFTER ALL. Lucyyyy, now look at what you've done!!! 

But unfortunately for me, the title company runs the show at real estate closings, not me. Its not over until they say its over. AND THIS TITLE LADY/DUCK WOULD NOT STOP QUACKING! I couldn't take it anymore and I asked her how much longer is this going to go on before I can sign the damn papers? She said we could reschedule if I had somewhere more important I needed to be.

I said, "I'VE GOT ALL MY DUCKS IN A ROW THAT I NEED IN A ROW TO HAVE THIS BABY. YOU'RE THE LAST DUCK! I'm in labor and I am NOT leaving this room until I'm a homeowner. So you better start handing me papers to sign unless you know how to cut the cord!"

Lorens stood up and said "Ok, my wife is in labor, we're having a baby, we've got to go!" I said "OH, HELL NO! I'M NOT LEAVING UNTIL WE ARE HOMEOWNERS!"

Everyone was FINALLY quiet, doing their jobs. It only took about 30 minutes to get through all the paperwork after that. Title lady left the room to make sure there was no other paperwork being faxed over that we needed to sign.

I remember thinking, as another powerful contraction hit me, (and I was breathing, he he, hoo hoo), OK, the baby is coming, maybe I should just climb up here on this big table, I could lay down on title lady's coat. I loved the thought of my water breaking on her coat. I thought thats what she deserved for insulting me and touching Lorens' arm. 

THEN I SAW THEM ALL LOOKING ACROSS THE TABLE AT ME, MOUTHS 1/2 OPEN, BECAUSE IT WAS WRITTEN ALL OVER MY FACE. I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO GRAB HER COAT, CLIMB UP ONTO THE TABLE AND DELIVER THIS BABY, AND THEY KNEW IT. 

Then the title lady came back in the room and said, "THAT WAS THE LAST PAPER YOU NEEDED TO SIGN, WE'RE DONE, CONGRATULATIONS, YOU'RE HOMEOWNERS!" The lawyers & realtor's looked more relieved than me.

We celebrated for about 10 seconds, they wished us luck and then I remember thinking, OK, thats nice, but these contractions are less than 10 minutes apart and it was getting harder to talk during them and I felt the need to lay down. We needed to get to the hospital NOW.

As Lorens drove through what was now, of course, rush hour traffic, I complained non-stop. "I haven't left the damn house in 2 months. This was going to be our fun day. We were SUPPOSE to have a special celebration dinner after closing! You promised me! I was going to get to choose the restaurant for once! Now I'm going to be eating hospital food tonight! And I don't have my special "I'm in labor, time to go to the hospital bag" with me! Just my luck, or lack thereof."

When we finally got to the hospital we found out I was indeed, in active labor and the baby was coming. Just a few hours later, at 7:12pm, on the very same day we closed on our very first home, our very first child, Jennifer, was born. She was 1 week early, but perfect.

Born to parents that were both H.S. Graduates, Both could speak (a little) of the husbands family language and both were HOMEOWNERS with all their DUCKS IN A ROW.

Bev the teenager, 1980's

I have a lot of great memories from the Albany Park neighborhood in Chicago where I was born and raised.

BEV THE H.S. SOPHOMORE, 1981

JENSEN PARK, CHICAGO, IL

Jensen under construction


Jensen Park back in the early 1980's)

JENSEN PARK:
The summer after 7th grade, we moved into a different school zone, near Haugan Elementary School and Jensen Park.  I ran, everyday, all the way back to my old school, Patrick Henry, for 8th grade and graduated there.  So I didn't make any friends in the Haugan/Jensen area until the summer after 8th grade when I lost touch with my Patrick Henry friends.  I would run everywhere.  A few blocks from my house was Jensen Park.  I ran in a square down the streets that surrounded the park, the field house, the basketball courts, the baseball fields and the tennis courts, probably about 1 mile each time around.

One day the Park Manager, Jerry Pistone, came outside and timed me as I ran past.  Then my next time around he stopped the timer and stopped me.  He asked if I wanted to run track for the Chicago Park District, representing Jensen Park.  So I did.  I won for our neighborhood, I won at the division meet and made it all the way to the Chicago Park District city finals.  I placed 11th out of about 200 girls in my age group.  Jerry got all of us to join other activities as well.  He would get you to try every sport till you found one you liked.

We had a basketball court, we played 16" softball in the baseball field, tennis in the tennis courts. The field house is where we played sports in the winter like ping pong and floor hockey.  To the left of the field house were the swings, slides, teeter tauter, etc.  To the right of the field house was the sprinkler, baseball field and tennis court.  In the winter Jerry would freeze up the baseball field and we could even ice skate.   We would go to other parks around the city to compete.  I loved it.  That's how I met most of the kids that hung around Jensen Park, including my future husband and how I became an athlete.

We all thank Jerry Pistone for being a genuine good guy that kept all of us teenagers out of trouble.  He got us all into sports and wouldn't allow gangs to take over our park, rare in Chicago.  He probably saved lives.  We had a 30 year reunion last year, Jerry came.  He STILL runs Jensen Park to this day, 30 years later!  What a great role model & asset to the Chicago Park District.  Wish there were more Jerry Pistone's in the world.

(2010, Haugan/Jensen 30 year reunion.  

I'm in the blue shirt on the very left, 

Jerry Pistone, our park Manager,  is 3rd from left)

And unfortunately, sometimes reunions happen because one of us has died.  
We've lost Rene, Fuki & Heno, just to name a few.  May they R.I.P.

Below is the pic from after a memorial service in April, 2010, for our friend Heno.

Our park manager Jerry gave me a ride to Heno's birthday party in Jan., 1988.
After that party, Heno's good friend Lorens and I started dating.
Heno was a guest at our wedding the next year.
Heno will always have a special place in our hearts.
I'm in the bottom row, second from left.

But nighttime at Jensen when the field house was closed and Jerry went home, it was a different atmosphere.  We were city girls and guys standing our ground with each other, sometimes with gang members.  We had to protect our park, get them to leave our park, protect each other.

We were a family and Jensen Park was our home.  We weren't bad kids, maybe drinking beer in the field and running from the police if they chased us, thats about it.

ROOSEVELT HIGH SCHOOL, CHICAGO, IL

High School Sports:
Then we started high school.  There were tons of sports to join.  I loved everything I had been doing at Jensen all summer.   When I started high school,  I wanted to be all "Rah Rah" and go to the Friday night skating parties, pep rallies, the plays,  the dances, the football games.  I even tried out for Cheer-leading (fail).

Scene from the film Grease 

But I found my favorite sport when I made the high school swim team. We made it all the way to the Chicago city finals one year!  Swimming remains my favorite activity (though these days I look more like a flotation device, a round, flotation device).  

  (Roosevelt High School, Chicago, IL, swimming pool)

Me and my friend Tina (our swim team captain back then) remember being in the best shape of our lives and being on an award winning team together.  We remember 30 years ago, when "Coach" had us swim 500 LAPS during practice, in our huge school pool, to prepare for upcoming swim meets.  These days, I could swim about 10 laps, Tina could probably swim about 50 laps. 

Major High School Homecoming Drama
Then I was nominated for Homecoming Queen!  My best friends from Jensen just laughed, they definitely weren't into the "H.S. Rah, Rah" pep rallies. They hated that I liked all of it, like these high school dances and teams.  Some of them informed me it would be uncool for me to attend.  Further, it was my best friend from Jensen's 16th birthday, on the same weekend as the dance.  She said if I went to the Homecoming dance, we wouldn't be friends anymore.  So I was actually considering not going.

(Scene from the film Grease)

Then the results were read over the school intercom,

"Sophomore homecoming Queen, 1981
Bev Richardson!"

I was in shock.  It's not like I was some beauty queen.  I considered myself a jock.   I felt so honored that my high school friends voted for me, that was the special part.  But my best friend from the park told me, once again, that if I went to the Homecoming dance, and didn't hang out with her for her 16th birthday, our friendship would be over.

But I didn't care anymore.

I was the queen and now I was going to the friggin dance.  

My best guy friend, Juan, said he'd be at the game and the dance to support me and dance with me later, so its not like I'd be there alone.  The day of homecoming, it was the big game.  I got to ride in the float, I was even wearing a pretty dress.

My family came to support me, and the football team, my high school friends cheered me on.  It was awesome.   But then as I'm passing by in the float, waving into the stands,  there's Juan, being led away in handcuffs by the police.  He had brought some liquor into the game.  My mom was there with some of her good friends, and she gave me the look that I was definitely guilty by association.

Great.

My boyfriend went to a different high school and wasn't planning on coming.  But now I decided to call him, I needed him to step up to the plate.  I didn't care that he wasn't friends with kids from my school. I told him, now I'm going to be all alone, he better come or I would never forgive him.   So he came to pick me up, late for the dance, literally falling down drunk.

Great.

We go into the dance, he goes immediately to study hall,
put his head down on a desk and passed out.

Great.  

Now it was time for the first dance, they were calling for me to come out onto the dance floor.   

My boyfriend is passed out drunk in study hall. 

My guy best friend Juan is in jail.  

My girl best friends are all mad at me and refused to come.

So I'm all alone, and I'm the friggin Queen.

Great.

I went to look for my boyfriend in study hall.  The school cop had woken him up and it looked like he was about to be arrested too.  Great.  So I left his drunk ass passed out in study hall.

I ran out of the dance, all the way home in my queen sash and beautiful dress.When I got home, I threw my dress in the hamper, changed into jeans and a Led Zeppelin T-Shirt and ran to Jensen to find my friends.  I figured screw it, I'll make my own good time.  The dance wasn't even 1/2 over, and here's the queen, at the park, 5 blocks away, on the park bench drinking a beer.

But it wasn't my fault.   

Its just how everything always goes in Bev's/Lucy Ricardo's life.

My friendship with my best friend from Jensen didn't end because I went to the dance.  I think she liked it that I wouldn't back down from her because Homecoming was important to me.  And I respected her decision to not go to a dance, she hated that shit.  And I ended up hanging out with all of them that night after all, but because I chose to, not because someone made me.

Michelle from Jensen remained my best friend and was the maid of honor at my wedding to Lorens, one of the Jensen Park Boys, 8 years later in 1989.  We lost touch after Lorens & I had kids and we moved out of the Chicago area.

My friend Tina, the swim team captain, was the senior prom queen, so we both have a few "it actually kinda sucked to be queen" memories.   Our kids are all friends and now we're experiencing high school drama again, through our children.

My sister Dawn & Me, my high school graduation,

Dawn was 21, I was 17.
June, 1983

My mom, Michelle, me and Lorens' Uncle George.
 My surprise 23rd birthday party Lorens threw me at his parents home.
(I know, nice spiral perm Bev, what can I say, it was the 80's)
November, 1988

...good thing I put my hair up for the wedding in 1989

Juan had dinner at our house a few weeks ago.  He encouraged me to tell the story.  Even though he got arrested at the homecoming game and missed the dance, I forgave him.  Juan and I also lost touch for many years but reconnected at a mutual friends funeral a few years ago after Lorens & I moved back to the Chicago area.  It felt like no time had passed (except we're all older & fatter).

30+ years later,
Juan, me & Lorens, 2010

Bev the Secret Adventurer, age 11

Ahhhhh, Chicago in the 1970's.

I  have been using Chicago public transportation since the summer of 1973 when I was 7 years old.  My mom would put me on the Kimball Avenue bus on the weekend to go up to the Library at Kimball & Foster.  It was the 70's, so it was pretty safe.  I learned to sit by the driver. I learned I didn't have to be home alone, bored & lonely.  I learned that Chicago was a big city with many things to see and do.  I learned I would rather be on an adventure of my own making alone, than home alone.  

Chicago Park District, Horner Park

One summer, when I was 11 years old, my mom, who worked several jobs, said she got a full time summer job and I would need to be in Chicago Park District Day Camp during the weekdays.  She put me on the CTA bus to go to day camp.  There was not much to do there.  The kids there weren't from my school and I didn't make any friends. I was more like a target.  I was cornered in the bathroom, I was sad, lonely, fighting and getting depressed. 

...and I learned, the CTA SHALL SET YOU FREE!!!!!

ONE MORNING, I was on the bus, on my way to camp.  My stomach was churning.  I knew I would be in another fight today if they cornered me in the bathroom again, or dying of boredom sitting alone somewhere.  In my mind, I pretended I was going off on an adventure somewhere instead, somewhere in Downtown Chicago like many of these bus riders.

Then I noticed that there were all these people getting on the bus, dressed in Cubs shirts and hats.  They were on their way to Wrigley Field.  I listened to them talk, happily, about how they were going early for the game because they hadn't bought tickets yet but knew there were a lot available at the gate.  Then I thought to myself, why not?  My mom had given me extra money because we were suppose to go on a field trip that day at "camp".

Their happiness was contagious. I wanted their life.
So I made it happen for myself.

I didn't get off the bus at my stop that day.  I stayed on until Clark Street and got off with all of them and walked over to Wrigley Field.  I used some of the money my mom had given me for our field trip at camp to buy a ticket to the Cubs game instead.  I had enough to get in and buy a program so I could follow along, keep stats.  That kept me busy for hours.  I had enough left over for a hot dog and I drank from the water fountain. And the Cubs won that day.  I was hooked.

I was only 11.

I told day camp guy the next day, I was a very sick kid, and I would probably only be able to come 3 days a week.  It was day camp, not school, they didn't care, they never called my mom to check my story.

I was 11, they probably should have checked my story.

I started staying on the Montrose Avenue bus about 2 days a week, heading East towards the lake front, seeing where it would take me, learning how to get around Chicago.  It amazes me now thinking about my bravery, or stupidity.

I was 11.  

And I was determined to do whatever it took

 to have a fun, exciting adventure.

Once at a Cubs game, a man came up to me and asked why was I sitting alone, where were my parents?  I was that young, that I stood out.  I told him, oh, they're way up there, I wanted better seats, but he scared me and I moved.  I learned not to stay in my own seat too long, people were noticing me.

Some days, if there was no home game, I would walk around Graceland Cemetery looking for my Uncle Jerry's headstone.  He was my dads identical twin brother whom my brother was named after.  The New Year's Eve before I was born he had to much to drink and fell asleep on the couch with a lit cigarette.  He died in the fire and my father never got over it.

I never got to meet my Uncle Jerry.

But that didn't stop me from visiting his grave when I was 11.

That place is huge with beautiful scenery, ponds, benches.  

I would get lost in there for hours.

If it was very hot, I would stay on the bus as far East as it would go,
trying to get as close to the breeze by Lake Michigan as possible.
I would walk South along the Lake front and beaches.

Once, I was walking South from Montrose Avenue and I found the Lincoln Park Zoo!  I was so excited!  It was/is one of my favorite places in the world that I got to go to with my parents when I was little and maybe on field trips with school once a year.

And I found it, all by myself, and I was only 11.  

That became my favorite place to go if there was no Cubs game or if I didn't have any money for a Cubs game.  Some days my mom only had enough money for bus fare there and back.  On those days she gave me a lunch to take to "camp".

Those days were perfect for the zoo.  Its free to get in.  But it was a lot more walking.  I discovered the outdoor swan/duck pond/sanctuary they use to have by the Polar Bears.  I remember you use to have to go through a revolving metal gate to get in there off of Fullerton and many people didn't notice it and walked right by.

It was so quiet and peaceful in there.  I would go into there first.  I would sit on the benches in there, unnoticed, watching the ducks and swans for an hour or more, eating the lunch my mom had packed for me for "camp", resting my feet before I would go visit all the animals.

It was a long walk and I was only 11.

I felt like the animals all got to know me that summer.  Many animals would walk right up to the fence when I would walk by.  I had very light, golden blonde hair, so maybe it was that, but at the time I felt like I had a connection with many of them.  I would say "UP!" to the bears like my dad did when he took us here and the one bear would stand up for me!

I was 11, and the bears were doing tricks for me at the zoo!

The giraffes also would come right to the fence line every time they saw me walk up and I would try to hand them some grass to chew.

Many of the staff recognized me and would wave to me.  I'm sure they just thought I lived near by.  It was pretty early in the morning, before bus loads of kids on field trips arrived.  I would ask a million questions about the animals.  A few times, I went into the Children's Zoo building and asked if I could please volunteer.  I remember the nice lady telling me I had to be 13 to volunteer and I would need my parents permission.  I was too young and my mom would kill me if she knew I had been going there.

The next summer, I was 12, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to Day Camp again.  I said sure!!!  I'm not sure if it was Horner Park Day Camp again.  But I remember that I did the same thing, some days, when the urge hit me, I would just stay on the bus and go on an adventure of my own making.

I told my mom what I had been up to those 2 summers when I was an adult, or my sister told on me, I'm not sure which but she was in shock, she had no idea.

Glad I survived it all to share this story.  

Did I mention, I was only 11?  LOL