Ethel and the Turkey Leg 

Since my friend Ethel died recently at the age of 85,  I’ve been thinking about what made her such a special soul.

Ethel and I met in the 1980s at Jane Addams,  the South Bronx vocational high school where she taught cosmetology and I ran the school library.   Like so many of us at Addams,  Ethel and I loved the school,  were dedicated to our students,  and forged a life-long friendship.   (See Mr October,  The Diary of a Young Girl,  Magazines for the Principal – for David,   Educator of the Year –  Remembering Milton,  The Parking Lot Seniority List,  A Favor for the Coach,  and Early Session Commute)

We both lived on Manhattan’s upper eastside,  and for years we carpooled to school together.  Every morning,  reverse commuting against the traffic that was heading down to Manhattan,  Ethel drove us the six miles up to the Bronx and to Addams.

Originally there were five of us in the carpool,  each usually holding a paper cup of tea or coffee that sloshed around whenever Ethel hit a pothole.

Over the years two of our colleagues moved out of Manhattan and a third opted to drive himself,  and then there were just Ethel and me in the car, and we began to think of ourselves as Thelma and Louise,

I remember one morning waiting for Ethel on the appointed corner when I saw her car approaching.  I stepped off the curb expecting her to slow down and stop as usual,  but as I watched,  she drive right past me and sped up Third Avenue.

Bewildered I trekked to the subway,  and later at school I went to Ethel’s classroom to ask what had happened.

“I played bridge last night”  she explained,  “and this morning as I was driving to school I was replaying every hand in my head.  Sorry I forgot to pick you up!”

Ethel,  as I said was a cosmetologist,  and because I wore little makeup she was always itching to get me into her chair and make me over.  I always demurred,  but on one very special occasion she had her way.

It was the morning of our son’s bar mitzvah and my husband and I had arranged to pick up Ethel on our way to the synagogue.  As she sat beside me in the back seat,  she opened her purse and took out comb and brush, lipstick, foundation,  mascara and rogue.

”No arguments this time,”  she said,  ”when you’re up on the bimah I want you to shine.”    And when Ethel got finished with me,  I think I did!

And it was Ethel’s turn to shine at the surprise retirement party we threw for her on City Island.  The planning,  the elaborate scheme to get her to the restaurant,  and the look on her face when we all yelled Surprise! were almost as much fun as the party!

And then there were the strays.

Ethel was a real animal lover who badly spoiled her own,  rather plump dog Bambi who she fed ice cream.   Once my husband was sitting on Ethel’s livingroom couch when the dog planted herself at his feet – it was then he dubbed her Bambi,  The Coffee Table.

And it seemed Ethel felt responsible for every stray dog in the city.   One morning when she picked me up,  she was driving with one hand on the wheel and clutching the biggest turkey leg I’d ever seen in the other.

I was used to Ethel binging leftovers from home and stopping the car to feed any dog who crossed our path –  and what a lucky mutt who hit the jackpot that day!

And so if dogs go to heaven,  I’m sure they won’t go hungry.   I know one slightly dizzy blonde who’s waiting up there with a turkey leg.

Rest in peace Ethel,  my dear unforgettable friend.

– Dana Susan Lehrman

I know how lucky we are to own the home that we do on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, seven miles off the coast of Cape Cod. (Holmes Coffin House.) It is well-situated in the Historic District of Edgartown. We walk to almost everything. But getting to the island can be challenging, particularly this season, as there were MANY ferry cancellations due to mechanical issues with the ships, or crew shortages. If one person called in sick, that entire ferry’s service had to be scraped for the entire day, and this was a busy summer. So no one who had reservations on those boats was guaranteed passage that day and had to scramble. During the peak of the season in July and August, this could be terribly inconvenient. What if you were trying to get to a doctor appointment, or flying out of the Boston airport later in the day? Tough luck.

As a home owner, I am allowed to make up to 10 reservations in January, when the reservations for the season open up, and I do make mine then, but plans change. (I normally am on the island from late May through the first of October; then I learned that my 50th Brandeis Reunion would be the last weekend of September, so I changed my reservation. A Rose Museum opening and lecture earlier in that week caused another change, and now I incurred a change fee. When something came up on that Monday, there were no ferries off. And it was like that for the entire month of July and August; we could not get a ferry off if we wanted to). On an Islander Facebook page, someone complained that he had a doctor appointment later that week, but the ferry website showed NO FERRIES available for weeks! This is unacceptable. Everyone griped about it all summer. The website frequently showed nothing available. Even if one calls the reservation line, the operator looks at the same information that we do. Evidently the trick is to go in person to the office – something that a person off-island cannot do. The people in the terminals have real-time data, but that doesn’t help those of us who are trying to get or change reservations from someplace other than the island.

And storms would cause ferries to be cancelled or diverted from Oak Bluffs to the more sheltered port of Vineyard Haven, but if you didn’t check, you might not know, leaving you high and dry.

Businesses said their revenues were down because people couldn’t get to the island. (Somehow, car traffic seemed almost as bad as usual during the height of the season, however.)

Because we live so close to the water and frequently dine on the harbor, we do get to see some spectacular yachts in port. After dinner, we’ll walk over to gawk.

Many of these are available for charter. Dan looks them up. The fees are beyond comprehension, but we do like to look at them. Years ago, when we owned small boats, we’d take them out for close inspection and to watch some of the races taking place in the inner harbor.

One foggy September morning, as I left the island to come home for chorus practice, I got a lovely shot of Vineyard Haven harbor before a surly dock hand told me I was too close to the edge of the ship. Being on the water has its own charm. I find it relaxing to see nature in all its beauty. I just want the Steamship Authority to run smoothly. It is clear that the fees for ferry tickets for passengers as well as vehicles will increase next season, as the SSA ran a huge deficit this season and the manager announced that he will step down next year. Costs go up, reliability and service decrease. And this is our lifeline to the mainland. What are we to do? I hear calls for the Steamship Authority to be taken over by the state and become a public utility. Then I look at how badly managed the T (our subway) is and think better of it. There must be someone who knows how to manage the place!

 

My mother was out on some errand, and Susan asked if she could have a cup of coffee.  That seemed important to her (we didn't understand the caffeine imperative yet), so my older sister and I, who had never actually made coffee, tried to rise to the occasion. 
Read More