How I Met Your Grandma

By Jim McCue

This is the unlikely story of how two young kids accidentally find each other and go on to produce a vibrant, dynamic family and a life that can only be called a true love story. But no one really knows the private lives of other people, so I have nothing to base this on except my observations.

I can't help but think our union is way above the norm. How many couples start out that early in life and get to spend an entire lifetime as lovers, best friends, and playmates? When I see so much suffering in life, I often wonder who has paid for mine. I think I am the luckiest man ever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889607236

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How I Met Your Grandma

Jim McCue

Copyright © 2023 Jim McCue

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88960-714-4 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-723-6 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

To my loving grandchildren. This was how I met your grandma.

Introduction

Comparing Neighborhoods

Epilogue

About the Author

To my loving grandchildren. This was how I met your grandma.

Introduction

This writing came to be due to the persistent urging of my grandchildren, my daughter Susan's kids in particular! I use the term grandchildren because that's what they are. However, they are no longer children. They are all accomplished professionals pursuing their various careers and dreams. Some have married, and I now have three great-grandchildren and counting!

The following events and places are true and accurate. The dialogue is accurate to the best of my ability to recall. Obviously, not all are verbatim. A few of the names are real; the rest close but slightly altered. I freely use my real name throughout the story. Most of the people in this account have since passed. Myself and a few others are still walking this earth.

This is a story of just how much two people can love each other. Please enjoy!

Comparing Neighborhoods

To better understand the dynamics of this account, I will give you an overview of the geographical and social status of the immediate area and people.

On the extreme western edge of Cleveland, Ohio, a street named Rocky River Drive ran north and south about three miles. Starting not quite in Downtown Cleveland, Lorain Street started and ran west through the west side of Cleveland and far out into the western suburbs and beyond. At the time, late forties or early fifties, it was the longest street with the same name at both ends in the world. It still might be.

Lorain Street crossed Rocky River Drive at ninety degrees, and the intersecting area was a thriving retail center called Kamm's Corners. Lorain Street had steel tracks embedded in the pavement for the trolley—or streetcars, as we called them—that were still in heavy use at the time. So we will now think of Lorain Street as the tracks.

Which side of the tracks you lived on had social and economic significance. On the north, or sunny, side of the tracks was the neighborhood of West Park. This idyllic, large-front-lawn community was home to the parish of Our Lady of Angels Catholic Church, known by all as OLA.

OLA consisted of a large, modern, redbrick school that housed grades one through eight; a magnificent, large, tan, sandstone church; and a huge, real-life, honest-to-God, actual Franciscan monastery! The monks or friars—I don't know the difference—went around in hooded brown robes with a hemp rope tied at the waist and strap sandals. They didn't go out much during the winter months.

The lawns were green and manicured, and the houses were kept in top-notch conditions. The fathers drove their late-model or new cars to their law offices, pharmacies, factories, or shops. The wives drove the dog to the vet and the kids to and from school and themselves to bridge games and to the grocery store. At the time, if you had two cars in the family, you were somebody!

On the south or the other side of the tracks was St. Patrick's, which consisted of a huge two-story brick school that housed grades one through eight, a fairly large white, now dirty-gray, limestone church, a priest house, and a cemetery. The church was gothic and straight out of an Irish travel brochure. The parish was made up of first- and second-generation immigrants.

The moms cooked, cleaned, did laundry, walked to the grocery store, shoved the kids out the door for school, gossiped on the phone, and listened to soap operas on the radio. Their dogs usually did not need a vet. The dads rode the bus or the streetcar with their steel lunch boxes and thermos to the steel mill, the factory, or the construction site. Their single car was locked safely in the garage and was only allowed out on weekends for family functions.

The houses were smaller, functional, clean, and relatively well-kept. The lawns were half grass, half weeds. From late June through September, the grass went brown, and the weeds stayed green.

Love at First Sight

OLA held well-chaperoned teen dances with a DJ every Friday night in the church basement during the school year. These dances were popular and well attended. However, boys from St. Pat's showing up at an OLA dance was the equivalent of a country being invaded by a foreign power. I was a foot soldier in the army of St. Patrick! The homeboys looked at us with disgust and annoyance in their eyes. The girls looked at us with curiosity. We had established a beachhead!

As it turned out, the OLA guys, for the most part, were a pretty decent bunch. We joined ranks and ogled the girls together. Somewhat to our disappointment, the beautiful, mysterious women of OLA turned out to be pretty much the same as the St. Pat girls! There were a couple of stunners, and the rest, pleasantly average. In order to attend these dances, you had to be at least in the eighth grade and not out of the twelfth grade—strictly high school. I was a freshman at the time.

The DJ alternated between rock and roll and slow dance, such as Chubby Checker's Blueberry Hill and the Righteous Brothers' Unchained Melody. As the evening started out, it was mostly girls dancing with girls to the rock and maybe two or three couples on the otherwise empty floor for the slow dance. I was content to stand on the sidelines, drinking my Coke or Pepsi and just enjoying watching the action.

After a while, some of the boys found courage and started adding to the mix. My vision fell on two girls at the center of the floor, bopping to The Hucklebuck. For four or five seconds, I got a good look at one of them. I thought my heart skipped about three or four beats. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

The next slow dance, she was out on the floor with some guy who was about an inch or two shorter than her. I asked the first girl who walked by to dance. I maneuvered us until we were next to them to get a better look. As they turned, she looked at me over her partner's shoulder, and our eyes met. She had the most beautiful smile. She was not smiling at me; she was just smiling.

After the dance ended, I escorted my partner off the dance floor and spotted an OLA guy I had talked to previously. I asked him if he knew who she was.

Yeah, that's Rose Marie Marshan. For an eighth-grader, she is really hot.

Being from St. Pat's, I had to remain cool.

Yeah, she is kind of okay! Know anything more about her?

"Yeah. You see her around a lot—school dances like tonight, basketball games, usually in the crowd, watching the scratch football games we play in the field behind the school. I understand she's the oldest of four girls. No brothers.

Her old man is a big-shot builder. Builds big, fancy houses all over the west side—Cleveland, Westlake, Bay. He's the president of John Marshan and Sons, builders. My dad talked to him a couple of times at church council meetings. Says he's an unbelievable stuffed shirt! Totally full of himself.

A few days later, I had an inspiration. I got a bunch of St. Pat's rough-and-tumble guys together, and we challenged the wimps of OLA to a scratch football game. We offered to