Agnes' Promise

I was told that from the time of conception my birth was not a happy occasion.  My mother, poor soul that she was, had a hard time accepting another child at this time.  She had already buried her first-born, a set of twin boys.  Now there was Dorothy, age five and Arthur age three, and who knows what other domestic problems she may have had, that another child would be more than she could handle.  Being an Irish, Catholic abortion was out of the question, and praying didn’t make it go away.  So the beauty of this hot, breezy day of July 17, 1928 was obscured by the birth pains coming so fast and furious that there was no time to get to a hospital.  It appeared that I was as determined to be born, as she was reluctant to have me.

In her defense, I must say, that she had already had a hard life, losing her mother to cancer when she was eleven, years old.  Her father, Jeremiah Sullivan, an Irish immigrant from County Limerick married Hanorah Norton and had five daughters.  Elizabeth (Lizzy) they called her, my mother was their first born.  Her siblings, were Mary (Mamie), Margaret (Peg), Hanorah (Nonie) and Catherine.  After his wife died from a long illness of cancer, he had Catherine, age five boarded out while Lizzy, age eleven was in full charge of the rest of the brood. 

Now, Lizzy just loved to read and read everything that she could get her hands on.  One day when she was supposed to be tending the fire, but had her head in a book instead, the fire got out of hand and the house burned down.  Thank God no one was injured.  It seemed that bad luck came in bunches, because it was about this same time that my mother’s father found out that his Catherine, the youngest was being abused by the people he was paying to look after her.  That was when Catherine went to live with his sister, Maggie Travis and her family.

Several months later, Catherine developed sore eyes and a cough both being treated with medicine.  One day, because of her independence, instead of waiting for Aunt Maggie to dispense the medicine, she took it herself.  Being only five years old, she mixed up the medicines and drank the eye medicine, boric acid, which was poison.  By the time Aunt Maggie discovered this, she was convulsing.  Aunt Maggie, with Catherine in arms, ran up the street to Dr. Blanchard’s, but it was too late, Catherine died in her arms.  This was when Jeremiah changed jobs, or rather shifts, working the over night shift in order to be home days with his girls.

Lizzy’s (my mother) education did not exceed grammar school, but her love of reading showed her interest in learning.  She had a talent for speaking languages, speaking fluently in French, Portuguese and the very difficult Hebrew.  This evidently was a God given talent, a natural ear for languages.  I wonder how far she could have gone with the proper education, but love and lady luck took her down a different road.

 As for my Father, there is so much that remains a mystery.  His name was Merton, but he preferred to be called Bert. When and how my parents met I do not know, but he must have swept her off her feet because she had many children whom she could not care for, and I’m sure she endured much abuse.  My last name, and my siblings was spelled Buzzell, he spelled his with two SS’s.  Mother’s reasoning was that it was a French name and could be spelled either way.  He also claimed to be part Sioux Indian.

I was told that my father was very clever with his hands, could do most anything, especially electrical work, plumbing and furniture making.  At the time I was born my parents shared a duplex house in Somerset, Mass. with Grandfather, Jerry.  My father being so clever, crossed our electricity to register on Grandfather’s meter.  Upon discovering this, Grandfather sent us packing.  Off to Coney Island, New York we went.  Here is where he got a job as superintendent of a large apartment house.

Shortly after I was born my Aunt Nonie, my mother’s youngest sister married George Sylvia.  Unlike my mother, she was very stylish with her black hair, blue eyes, mascara