Bev the SNAKE KILLER, 1998

Early Summer, 1998:
So, some of my friends requested I tell the story of why I am known as Bev the snake killer by my friends in Springfield, where we lived for 10 years.

When we 1st moved to the Springfield area, we found a house, 3 miles from the main road, that backed up to the woods, hiking trails out my back door, down the hill to the Sangamon River.  It was in between Springfield and Petersburg, IL (where my hubby worked).  The road to our house from the main road had corn fields on either side.  If there was a lot of snow, the blowing snow made the road just disappear and you're snowed in for days unless you have 4 wheel drive on your car.


There was about  a block stretch when you got way back in there, of about 10 houses, that all backed up to the woods and the river.  We lived in a duplex on that block.  It was like a Stephen King novel setting, way way back, very scary at night and during thunderstorms, giant trees falling all around you.  Out our back door was the woods, you could walk down the hill, down the trails along the river, hike, fish, bon fires on the little beach down there, 4 wheelin, etc.  Looked exactly like this pic below that I found on Google, without the tree swing (that would have been cool):

BUT there are also venomous snakes down there. 

  

SO one day, hubby was at work, our kids were like 5 and 6, they wanted to go in the yard with Max our dog (who was a giant Rottweiler and VERY protective of them). So they go through the mud room, into the back yard and I immediately hear Max barking, and the kids screaming.  As I was running towards the yard, they run past me screaming, "SNAKES"!!!


So I go out there, my neighbors on either side of us are looking out their windows by this time.  There are 2 GIANT red & yellow looking snakes (red & yellow = kill a fellow, as the saying goes), sunning themselves in my yard!  They must have made their way up from the river and they were sunning themselves.   I got a little closer to them and the big one started acting agressive and moving TOWARDS me.  My neighbors Missy & Tim were screaming out their window, "they're the poisonous ones,  get back!!!" 


But all I could think of was primal instinct.  Like a mother lioness, heat rising off of me, like, this is where my dog and children roam.  Seeing something, anything, being aggressive and deadly towards my children, made something  inside of me snap and I went TOWARDS them with a fury I've never felt.  I was thinking, you people sit back and watch.  I'm from Chicago.  I'm big, they're little.  They should have stayed away from my children.  I'll literally rip them apart. They should have stayed in the woods and the river where they belong.  Now they're gonna die.

I was looking for something to kill them with.  I expected them to head for the woods and river but they went for my home and retreated down a hole under my mud room!  OH, HELLLLL NO.  So I THOUGHT I had a great idea and got the gas can.  I POURED GAS DOWN THE HOLE UNDER MY HOUSE THEY HAD MADE and was looking for a light to light it.  Thank God I didn't find a light, my husband later told me that would have been BAD.  But as soon as the gas reached them, THEY CAME SHOOTING OUT, RIGHT AT ME!  I PICKED UP A STEEL SHOVEL (I had for scooping up the giant Rottweiler poop) AND HIT THE BIG ONE ON THE HEAD WITH THE SIDE OF THE SHOVEL SO HARD, I CHOPPED HIS HEAD RIGHT OFF!    But because we were up above the river and sandy shoreline, the ground was a dirt, clay and sand mixture and the shovel was now stuck in the ground from me using Superwoman strength to kill the first snake.  The second snake was coming TOWARDS me and her dead mate.  She didn't look happy.  I realized this is no garden snake showing this kind of aggression.   I finally got the shovel out of the ground and slammed it down on her midsection.  BABY SNAKES STARTED COMING OUT OF HER, LIKE 15-20 OF THEM!!!   I started smashing all I could with the shovel, cursing at them as I went along.   My neighbors were screaming, laughing and cheering out their windows, SNAKE KILLER, WHOO HOOO!!! 

While I was picking up the lifeless bodies of the 2 big snakes and throwing them into the woods some of the babies got away.  I'm sure they grew up to seek vengeance for their parents, I wouldn't know, we moved out after that.  

I've never been that way before or after in my life. In a killer rage. I was like a raging bull, steam coming off of me, my eyes wide and alert, like this is it, life or death. I thought, if I don't hit them hard enough, they'll just come after me and I was a long way from a hospital with anti-venom. 

All the neighbors bought me drinks that night. My nickname went from Chicago to Snake Killer.  And to this day, when I call my country friends Denise or Missy & Tim, they answer the phone "What's up Snake Killer!"  When I'm feeling sad or defeated, Denise still tells me, "COME ON NOW, YOU'RE TOUGH AS NAILS, REMEMBER, YOU'RE NOT JUST A HOUSEWIFE, YOU'RE  MY BEST FRIEND.   YOU'RE THE SNAKE KILLER FROM CHICAGO FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

It was unusual to see so many kinds of poisonous snakes, but that year we had record flooding, I think it was 1997 or 1998.  Two rattlesnakes were also killed at different times that summer in those same woods by another neighbor, Mr.Morrison.  Later that same summer, I was walking through the woods with our dog Max and I heard a rattle, so did Max, he wanted to go towards it, he knew by this time snakes were mama's enemy.  It was coming from under some leaves nearby, right off the side of the trail we were on.  Man, I've never run UP that hill that fast in my life.  We always walked with BIG STICKS after that. It was more fun getting down there on the 4 wheelers, less stressful getting to the beach.

SO, If you're from the big city, like Chicago, and you're transported to the country, like unincorporated Sangamon County, just know that your killer instincts go with you.  

We believe the snakes I killed that day were Copperheads.  They looked exactly like this:

POISONOUS SNAKES OF THE AMERICAS

American copperhead 
Agkistrodon contortrix

Description: Chestnut color dominates overall, with darker crossbands of rich browns that become narrower on top and widen at the bottom. The top of the head is a coppery color.

Characteristics: Very common over much of its range, with a natural camouflage ability to blend in the environment. Copperheads are rather quiet and inoffensive in disposition but will defend themselves vigorously. Bites occur when the snakes are stepped on or when a victim is lying next to one.  A copperhead lying on a bed of dead leaves becomes invisible.  Its venom is hemotoxic.

Habitat: Found in wooded and rocky areas and mountainous regions.

Length: Average 60 centimeters, maximum 120 centimeters.

Distribution: Eastern Gulf States, Texas, Arkansas, Maryland, North Florida, Illinois, Oklahoma, Kansas, Ohio, New York, Alabama, Tennessee, and Massachusetts.

I knew why she was being so aggressive after I saw she was about to give birth.  She was doing the same thing as me, protecting her young.  But I did what I had to do that day.  And then we moved back to the city.  I feel way safer walking around Chicago than the wilderness.   I thought I wanted the country life but I realized I'm Chicago at heart. 

The time I tried to teach my husband, aka "Bad News Benyamin", a lesson.

IT WAS EARLY 1998 (a year that sucked):

We had recently moved 200 miles south of Chicago to the outskirts of Springfield, Illinois because Lorens was offered a good job.  So I spent my days at home with our 4 & 5 year old.  Our house was in the middle of nowhere, 3 miles from the main road, in a Stephen King novel type setting.  It was in the woods, on a hill overlooking the river.  Lorens worked long hours, I was always alone, overnight, and I barely slept.  The sounds of the woods at night freaked this Chicago girl out!  

One day, Lorens and I were driving along in the car. A commercial came on the car radio, "Mighty Man Competition at the State Fair Grounds, Cash Prizes...."  He was saying how he should enter.  How I had no idea what a bad ass he was.  And I was laughing and said to Lorens, "That's just what I wish for."  He said "What?"  I said, "For you to go GET YOUR ASS KICKED." (but in a safe way, in a ring with gloves on).   

He's like, "Yeah?  They better pack a lunch!"

From then on, every time I heard that commercial come on the radio or TV, I'd picture him in a boxing ring, and it made me smile.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I love him to death, I didn't want to see him hurt, maybe just knocked down a few steps.  I was thinking, I bet if he was in the boxing ring with real fighters that would teach him a lesson, he's 33, he just THINKS hes still a tough guy.

I had heard all the stories from him and his friends about when they were younger, he definitely could take care of himself and his friends if need be.  But we didn't start dating until he was 23 so I had never actually seen him fight, never wanted to, and only 1/2 believed the stories.

I was enjoying the Mighty Man commercials WAY too much.  Then I THOUGHT I had a great idea.  I'll get my point across to him through humor.  Me and my practical jokes.  But he totally deserved it.

SO I SIGNED HIM UP FOR THE 1998 MIGHTY MAN COMPETITION 

AT THE ILLINOIS STATE FAIRGROUNDS IN SPRINGFIELD, IL. 

(WITHOUT TELLING HIM ABOUT IT.)

I thought, BOY, AM I GOING TO CALL HIS BLUFF!

I laughed the rest of the afternoon while I did my housework just thinking about the scared look I would see on his face for once. 

I couldn't WAIT to tell him.  

I thought he'd look nervous.  

I thought he'd say he had plans that weekend, LOL.  

When he got home from work, and we started arguing, I said, "Hey, remember how you said you're bad enough to kick ass in the Mighty Man Competition?  Well, guess what, I signed you up today! I guess now we're gonna see how tough you really are!"

I was waiting for him to look scared, instead, a smile came across his face.  I realized, he's TRULY happy, excited.  He couldn't wait to call the guy back!  

Lorens told him he didn't have a ring name.  The guy asked what our last name was, Lorens told him, and the guy said, "OK, then your ring name will be...",

LORENS BAD NEWS BENYAMIN

Lorens called my sisters husband Pat.  He asked Pat to be in his corner Friday night.  They were laughing, joking, so friggin excited, like little kids.  Pat came running right over, they went and got the mouth guard, etc. and stayed up drinking, talking about it, planning his technique,  like it was gonna be the damn Superbowl!

NO FAIR!!!  I couldn't stand it.  My plan had backfired.  

Lucyyyyyy, what have you done!!!!

The other fighters were 18-23.  Lorens was 33.  He was going to be the OLDEST GUY IN THE COMPETITION BY 10 YEARS.  I was still sure he'd be taught a lesson.

FRIDAY NIGHT:
We joked around before he left and I said, "OK, I'LL SEE THE REAL LORENS WHEN HE GETS HOME TONIGHT, I'VE MISSED HIM.  AND YOU?  YOU MR. TOUGH GUY, I HOPE YOU GET YOUR ASS KICKED."

I thought, I'll wait for him to come home, with his tail between his legs.  I'll bandage him up, put ice on his wounds, nurse him back to health, tell him I'm glad he learned his lesson, and I still love him, etc.

So late that night I  hear several cars pull into my driveway.  I hear laughing, cheering, etc.  And I thought, UT OHH.

I think, OK, damn it, I guess he won his fight but maybe he's got a black eye, fat lip, blood dripping, SOMETHING.  So I come downstairs and he opens a beer bottle using the counter, all cool like, and just looks at me, smiling.  I searched his face for a bump, bruise, blood, anything.  BUT THERE WAS NOTHING.

He was tired, relaxed.  The fight did help.  He was on cloud #9.  He gave me a big kiss and said he wished I would have seen him.  Getting in a fight DID mellow him,  he was calling me sweetie and babe again.  It must have released some endorphens or something.

He told me 1 MINUTE INTO THE SECOND ROUND, HE BROKE THE GUYS NOSE AND KNOCKED HIM OUT.   It was the ONLY knock out of the entire night.  He tells me he's fighting in the Finals tomorrow night.

I WANTED TO BE ANGRY.

BUT FOR SOME STRANGE REASON,
I WAS SUDDENLY VERY ATTRACTED TO HIM.

My plan had backfired, again.

DAMN IT LUCY!

SATURDAY NIGHT:
So I got a babysitter for Saturday night and went with him to the Finals. It was at the State Fair Grounds, it was huge, hundreds of people in the stands.

There was a mutual respect that night among the winning fighters walking around before their fights, talking to each other about last nights fights.  They all told Lorens:

 "Great fight last night man!",

"Hey, you're Bad News, right?",

 "Hey, this is the guy that had the knock out last night!"

Right then I stopped wanting him to get his ass kicked.

I was so proud he was MY husband.  I was trying to hold his hand, arm, shirt, pants, ANYTHING, looking at all the ring girls like, yeah, thats right, you BETTER keep walking, I'M with him, this is MY MAN.  I'M MRS. BAD NEWS, STAY BACK!

When it was Lorens' turn to fight and they said, "Introducing in this corner, LORENS, BAD NEWS, BENYAMINNNN" and the crowds in the stands started cheering.  I was like, "thats right, thats MY MAN!!!"

Lorens looked right at me and blew me a kiss and I felt like I was at a rock concert and he was the musician on stage you wanted to throw your clothes at.  AND HE WAS BLOWING A KISS TO ME!!!

So he fought.  It went all 3 rounds.  There were a lot of good punches from both and it was hard to call.  I thought Lorens had won, he delivered some brutal body shots.  Then they announced the other guy won in points.  The winner was suppose to go sit down and fight later.  But instead, the "winner" went up to the announcer after the fight and said he was hurt bad, he was having trouble breathing and he couldn't go on.  Even though Lorens lost the fight, Lorens had broken the guys ribs.

At the end of the night my husband, at 33, and at least 10 years older than everyone else, was given a Mighty Man Finalist trophy that sits in our china cabinet today.  We also have the fights on tape, but it was 1998, so they're on VHS.  When I figure out how to copy them, I'll post the fights.

Its not easy being a smoker, 33 years old and fighting hard 2 nights in a row.  But he did it.  Do you know why?  Because hes Lorens, Bad News, Benyamin, thats why, forever in my book.

Signed, Mrs. Bad News Benyamin.

Bev's BEST April Fools Day, 1993

A few weeks earlier, in March, 1993:
Well, it was time.  Time to go back to work.  I hadn't worked in 4 1/2 months. I had went into pre-term labor on October 15th, 1992 and was ordered to be on complete bed rest.  Jennifer was born healthy, 2 months later on December 15th, 1992 (read my story "Bev's closing day becomes so much more, 12/15/92" http://bev-benyamin.blogspot.com/2011/04/it-was-just-suppose-to-be-closing-day.html).  Then I took my 8 weeks maternity leave and 2 weeks vacation.  She was 10 weeks old when I went back to work in March, 1993.  

My boss, thinking after 4 1/2 months off of work, I should be well rested and ready to conquer the world, was not pleased with 'BEV THE RAG DOLL' that had returned from maternity leave.  I didn't care.  Jennifer had Colic and spent much of the first 3 months of life crying at all hours for no apparent reason.  I would try everything to soothe her in the middle of the night.  I would feed her, change her, sing to her, rock her in my arms near running water, give her gas drops and if that didn't work I would take her for walks in the stroller down my block at 3am hoping the motion would  be enough to soothe her back to sleep.  


And so at work, I was ready for a nap ALL THE TIME.  I didn't see how other working moms did this and I was feeling overwhelmed.

APRIL 1, 1993 - APRIL FOOLS DAY:
About a week after I came back from maternity leave, I was at work, thinking maybe I would have the energy to cook a nice dinner tonight and come up with a good April Fools joke on Lorens.  This was almost like a holiday for us.  We spend every day laughing, joking, playing jokes on each other.  Today is the day set aside for that and we both normally love it.  But not this year, I was exhausted and as the morning went on I didn't give the date another thought.  

I was in the bathroom when the flu symptoms started.  I was so dizzy I thought I might pass out, I had hot and cold chills, was throwing up and wanted to go home sick.  I was thinking, maybe thats why I've been so drained the last few weeks, I have the flu or an infection.

So I went to the Immediate Care Center on my lunch break.  They examined me, took a urine sample and told me the doctor would be right in.  


The doctor came in and said, "Well, its not the flu, YOU'RE PREGNANT!"  


I said, "Oh, no, that's not possible. I've already HAD the baby, shes at the babysitters.  The pregnancy hormone must still be in my system".  That was the only possible explanation to me at that moment.


I WAS THINKING, WHAT A STUPID, DUMB ASS DOCTOR THIS IS, HE SHOULD KNOW THESE THINGS AND NOT GO SCARING WOMAN THAT ALREADY HAD THEIR BABIES.


He started laughing at me and gently touched my arm, all concerned, patting my arm like I was a crazy person and said, "NOOOOO, THIS IS A WHOLE NEW BABY MRS. BENYAMIN".    Turns out he wasn't the dumb ass, I was.

And as it sunk in, I started backing away from him until I was against the wall.  The room started spinning and I thought I was gonna pass out again.  He said, "Please, sit down, can I call someone? Is this bad news?"  I said "No, I'm just in shock." 

The doctors all said I only had a 10% chance of EVER getting pregnant.  We tried for over 3 YEARS and went through countless fertility tests and treatments.  I finally got pregnant with Jen because I was put on the fertility drug Clomid.  Jennifer was a miracle, we all call her our miracle baby.  I thought I might not ever get pregnant again.  Now here I was, 11 WEEKS LATER, against the back wall of the exam room, PREGNANT...AGAIN!  


THE DOCTOR WAS STILL TALKING TO ME, SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT SETTING UP AN ULTRASOUND, BUT HIS VOICE WAS MUFFLED, LIKE THE ADULTS IN THE CHARLIE BROWN CARTOONS (WA WA WA WA).  


I was remembering the Strawberry Margarita pitchers Lorens made for us when Jen was about 8 weeks old, on a schedule and not suffering from Colic that night.  She went to sleep by 9pm and Lorens said now it was "OUR time".  He said the Margaritas were suppose to be that strong.  He said I never looked better.  Lorens, DAMN HIM!  This was all his fault, him and that damn Don Julio Tequila!  It made me happy, carefree, AND PREGNANT AGAIN!!! 

I called Lorens at work......

Me, "Hi honey, I'm back from the doctor"
Lorens, "Is it the flu"?
Me, "Ha ha, I wish",  He said I'm pregnant"
Lorens, "HA HA , APRIL FOOLS!, OK, YOU GOT ME, THATS A GOOD ONE."
Me, "What the hell are you talking about? Oh yeah, its April Fools day, I forgot.  And anyway, I don't care what day it is, LORENS, I'M PREGNANT!".
Lorens, "Bev, you're NOT gonna get me.  I admit it, you've come up with a few good ones over the years, and this IS a good one, but there's no way I buy this crock, nice try."
Me, "I'm so angry at you right now that if you laugh at me one more time I'm going to hang up on you."
Lorens, (hysterically laughing now), "Oh, now that's a good one, now you're going to be mad at me, right? So I'll think you're serious, right?  HA HA HA, you're funny, now knock it off.  I've got to work late, you're full of shit, don't talk to me about it again until tomorrow, we'll see about all this tomorrow, HA HA HA".

SO I HUNG UP ON HIM.  

When I got home from work that night I called my parents and sister and told them.  I needed someone to talk to about this.  I was freaking out.  I was a month pregnant with an 11 week  old baby upstairs.  He walked in from work, heard me on the phone, assumed it was all part of the joke and chimed in,  "Ha Ha, BOY BEV, YOU'RE GOING ALL OUT WITH THIS ONE!  EVEN BRINGING YOUR FAMILY INTO IT, HA HA HA".  I was so angry I decided not to try and convince him anymore and I went to bed.

In the morning he turns over and said, with that STUPID smirk still on his face, "So, are you STILL pregnant?"

Me, "Yes I am.  And I'm going to be pregnant for another 8 months.   Welcome to year 2 of me being pregnant buddy.  And do you know those maternity clothes of mine and giant underwear you wanted me to burn?  I'll be wearing those all of 1993.  You're going to have to get a second job because we won't be able to afford daycare for 2 infants and I'm not speaking to you!"  Then I started crying and went into the shower, leaving him in bed with his mouth hanging open.

Lorens opened the shower curtain a few minutes later.  He was as white as a ghost, mouth still open.  He just stood there, staring at me, until I screamed "What?  What do you want?"  He said, "YOU'RE STILL PREGNANT?  TODAY?  BUT, BUT, TODAY IS APRIL 2ND",  looking all confused, like me yesterday in the doctors office.  


He was waiting for the "HA HA, APRIL FOOLS" announcement that wasn't going to come. 

NOW I BEGAN TO LAUGH!!!!

He sat down on the side of the tub, looking confused.  Poor Lorens, he wasn't there yet.  He kept mumbling, "But its April 2nd now".  I already had 24 hours to deal with this.  He was in shock.  Good.  He deserved it.  Thank you Karma!!!  Ha ha.  

And that was the best April Fools day prank I ever got to pull, and it wasn't even a prank!!! In my opinion, it was the year I didn't have the strength for a prank, and so it was God's way of playing April Fools with us!  It was both of our favorite April Fools Day ever.

And if on April 1st, you happen to see that my Facebook account says my birthday is on April 1st, thanks for the birthday wishes, but my birthday is actually November 7th....GOTCHA.   HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY.

UPDATE:

Michael was born on December 5, 1993, 11 months after our daughter Jennifer.  We got pulled over by the police for speeding on our way to the hospital but he let us go when he saw Lorens was telling the truth and I really was in labor.  It took almost 30 hours of labor in the hospital and Mike and I both struggled, but survived, barely.  I was ordered to be on complete bed rest for 2 weeks after he was born (with a newborn and an 11 month old, so that didn't happen).  Michael had to be rushed to Children's Memorial Hospital for what they thought was a life threatening problem, but survived.  

So we know how lucky we are to have a healthy girl and boy, even though they came so close together.  Michael was at Jen's 1st birthday party.  Our "Irish" twins.  Less than a year apart but not really twins so there were no twin clubs or networks for support.  We needed 2 cribs, a double stroller, 2 hi chairs, they both needed to be carried, both in diapers, etc, etc.  I even got a stress fracture in my forearm from holding a baby 24/7 and had a hard cast on for almost 2 months.  It was hard work, but they had us, each other, they were best friends, truly like having twins. 

Christmas, 1993.  I was still ill.

Jen was 1, Mike was almost 3 weeks old.

March, 1994.  Feeling much better.

Jen was 15 months old, Mike was 3 months old.

The time went by so quickly.  Jennifer leaves for college in a few months, Michael is a senior in high school.  He's 6'3" and wears a size 18 shoe I have to have special ordered.  I'm lucky I survived his birth to see it all, and I try to appreciate my children everyday.

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