"NOTES OF A NOMADIC SON"
My dreams in the summer of '69 ended because of an abrupt relocation and my parents' deception.
“NOTES OF A NOMADIC SON”
It was the season for Woodstock, Vietnam and the Amazing Mets. The summer of 1969 was also a time of great dreams for a 16-year-old entering his senior year of high school in Harrison, New York. But those aspirations ended because of an abrupt relocation and my parents’ deception.
Our family moved suddenly in late August 1969 from metro New York to Dayton. And my senior year expectations were stowed like so much furniture on that moving van bound for southwest Ohio. This was a foreign land where people spoke in a strange dialect: “Hey, buddy, you sure talk funny.” … “I talk funny? Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me? Fugghettaboutit.”
I had left my longtime New York hometown with just a few days notice. Friends and football teammates said I had “disappeared” almost without a trace. “What happened to you?” They would later ask. It would take years to answer.
Dad, who started working that spring in Ohio, had said we would move in December. That way I could play my final season of varsity football and spend some of my senior year in Harrison. But there were four of us Masse´ kids still in school. That was the tipping point. Much later I learned my parents had always planned to move by end of August not December. But they would wait through the summer before dropping the facade and revealing their true intentions of shock and awe.
I got a call from my father on a Thursday night: “If you want to play football, you have to be in Ohio by early next week.” … “What are you talking about? You said we’d be here until December.” … “Sorry, plans change.”
I could have rebelled and refused to go. I could have insisted I stay in New York and live with one of my close friends until I graduated in June 1970. But none of that seemed possible in the eye of the hurricane. Besides, my sibling script was as the obedient, unselfish second son.
But there were consequences for my compliance—burying my anger and regret for too long, blaming my parents and me well into my thirties. By then I had lived through many more challenging situations and discovered my resilience and perseverance.
Some 20 years after that move from New York, I solved the mystery behind Mom and Dad’s deception. But, more importantly, I forgave my aging parents. They apologized, explaining how they had tried to do their best for the family, driven by financial woes and their own midlife crises.
I also forgave myself, championing a tough-minded teenage New Yorker who made a difficult move, made new friends and made the starting football team at that new Ohio high school in the fall of ’69.
© 2022 www.markmasse.com
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Beautifully done, poignant and provocative. But as you've proved, once a Husky, always a Husky! And of course, I've always wondered just how great a Husky footballer Peter Paul would have been had the family stayed in Harrison!
Gordon: Thanks very much. Appreciate the feedback and support. One of life's toughest questions is: What might have been? "Pete" followed me as starting center at Oakwood HS in Dayton in his sophomore year. As a senior, he earned all-state honors and was recruited by big-name schools, including Tennessee. He was a scholarship athlete at Colgate, where he started at outside linebacker on the same squad as Mark Murphy (CEO of Green Bay Packers). Unfortunately, Pete dropped out of Colgate after his freshman year. Another long, difficult story. But to end on a positive note, you're right on! Once a Husky, Always a Husky!