My Parents

This is my mom in her early 20s. She was born in 1930, the youngest of 6 children. My grandmother's friend once told me that my mom was so small, "she could fit right into the palm of my hand." Mom's older sister was born deaf (in 1928) and it turns out, Mom was born hearing impaired. She remembers hearing music and dancing in front of the radio. After a bout with an illness that caused a high fever, Mom couldn't hear anymore.

The youngest brother Gil (born in 1926) was their playmate and acted as the family interpreter. I think they used home signs with their brother. When they were older, my aunt and mother were sent to Lexington School for the Deaf in New York City.

At that time, the prevailing philosophy at Lexington was oral education only--no signing! The teachers and administrators told my grandparents if they used sign language it would inhibit their girls from learning to speak. My mom and aunt learned that there was something "wrong" with sign language--they learned but they had to keep their knowledge private. They'd sign in the bathroom or in other secret places. They developed negative feelings toward it thanks to these hearing idiots in charge of education for the deaf.

Communication was extremely frustrating for them both. At best, a skilled lipreader will pick up only 70% of the message. There are too many words and phrases that look alike on the lips. Mom grew sick of saying "ball ball ball" for hours and hours on end. She felt like she wasn't learning anything and so she dropped out of school when she was 16.

She's basically self taught. She developed a love for reading and so her skills developed that way.

My grandparents and the four brothers never learned to sign fluently. My Uncle John, my godfather, (born in 1922) tried to learn in the early 1980s but by then it was too difficult to pick up.




My dad had a totally different experience. He was born to my Irish immigrant grandparents in 1929, in either Harlem or the Bronx. We always thought he was #5 in a family of 6 but it turns out that there was another child who died. I'm not sure if this child was older or younger than my father.

Coincidentally (or not), the birth order in my father's family was 2 girls followed by 4 boys. In Mom's it was the other way around.

My father was very close to my Uncle Thomas. They were the closest in age and so Tommy acted as the family interpreter. The difference here is that the whole family used home signs to communicate with Dad. There was no shame amongst them and no one to tell them that my dad would never learn to speak.

We don't know why my dad is deaf. He thought it was because he had botched surgery as a child and that the surgeon cut into his neck and damaged a nerve. That's not right but what is the whole story? Not even the hearing members of the family seem to know.

My dad went to the state school for the deaf in upstate New York. They used sign language there and so he developed language early on. He learned to play the French horn! He participated in the school's marching band.

Dad's growing up years were rough. He won't talk about it. I know that his family was poor and that there are a lot of drinkers. Was his upbringing violent? Were there gangsters in his neighborhood? I can only guess. To this day he doesn't talk about it.



My parents met at a group date. They'd brought other dates to go out and when the evening was over, my dad escorted my mom to the train station. They hit it off and he asked her out. My mom thought my dad was so very handsome (and he was).

There were just a couple of stumbling blocks. Although my mom's family weren't especially well off my grandmother had a "pedigree" as long as your arm. It was sort of intimidating. The other bigger issue was of religion. My dad's family was Catholic and my mom's Presbyterian. Luckily my dad wasn't so attached to Catholicism and willingly gave it up to marry my mom.

Eventually any problems sorted themselves out and my parents got married in May 1951.