My sister, born one year before me—a childhood companion, teenage adventurer and lifelong center of our big family.
The Second Child
My sister Sharlotte was the second of my parents’ children and was born one year before me. Because all six of us grew up as a close family, it can be difficult now to separate many of those earliest years into distinct memories.
Sharlotte was born in Tallahassee, Florida. Dad was apparently still in college then and finishing his degree at Florida State University. My first clear memories of her are probably from our years in Fort Lauderdale, where the ocean was so close that going to the beach was simply part of how we grew up. We swam, played in the surf and spent entire days along the shore.
It seemed to me that I spent more time playing outside with the three younger girls—Mary, Liz and Jody—while Peg and Sharlotte were more interested in reading, books and school. They were good students. Perhaps the simpler explanation is that they were more mature than I was, while I remained the little kid who always wanted to be outdoors.
Peg, Sharlotte and Tim during our early childhood years.
Teenage Years in Massachusetts
I will never forget the move from Fort Lauderdale to Massachusetts. I was a freshman in high school and Sharlotte was a sophomore. Her boyfriend Bob came north to visit, and for a while the three of us were like buddies.
We hitchhiked all over the place. I went to my first music concert in Boston with Sharlotte and Bob, during the old Boston Common Summer Thing series. I remember the name as something like Mary Carpenter, although after so many years I am no longer certain of the performer. What I do remember is how exciting it felt to be fourteen years old and heading into Boston with them.
We also hitchhiked to Leominster State Forest. Those outings belonged to a different era, when young people hitchhiking along local roads was far more common than it would be today.
One night Sharlotte and Bob were driving my parents’ station wagon to a movie. Bob looked up to see what was playing at the theater and drove into the vehicle ahead. The station wagon was badly damaged, and that accident unexpectedly set up one of the strangest adventures of my youth.
Sharlotte, Dad and Peg during our Florida beach years.
Hitchhiking Toward Niagara Falls
A few weeks after the accident, our family was supposed to travel to the Niagara Falls area for a wedding. With the station wagon being repaired, there was no way to fit eight family members, Bob and probably a dog into Dad’s other car. Bob volunteered that he and I would hitchhike to Canada. I was fourteen and said yes without giving the idea much thought.
Mom dropped us near the entrance to the Massachusetts Turnpike. We carried a sign that said “Niagara Falls,” but there were perhaps a dozen or more other hitchhikers gathered near the toll area, so we had plenty of competition. After about an hour and a half without a ride, we gave up and started walking back toward town.
Then an old van full of hippies stopped and carried us all the way to Springfield. We thought that was incredibly cool. Bob was only sixteen or seventeen, but he already seemed much older and more worldly to me. Around that period I first experimented with marijuana and beer with him. The beer was so inexpensive that, before he returned to Florida, he used my ten dollars to buy eight six-packs—four Budweiser and four Schlitz. That supply lasted us for months because one or two beers seemed like plenty.
Unable to hitch a ride beyond Springfield, Bob and I eventually continued by bus. Before that, however, we made one remarkably foolish decision. Standing above a roadway with an old discarded tire, we tried to roll it into the open back of a passing trash-compactor truck. We released it too soon. The tire struck the roof of the cab with a tremendous crash. The driver stopped, and Bob and I ran across the cloverleaf carrying our backpacks, dashed into a bowling alley and hid in restroom stalls with our feet on the toilet seats. We were lucky that nobody was hurt and that the men did not find us.
At the Buffalo bus station, while waiting for the final bus toward Niagara Falls, we were approached by men who apparently assumed we were collecting parking fees. After watching one person prepare to pay, we briefly decided that perhaps we could make money that way. The first motorists we approached immediately told us to get lost, and we abandoned that idea.
Canada was full of fun, photographs and family memories. On the return trip we tried to bring fireworks back across the border. Customs confiscated the fireworks in our backpacks and made us place them in a large box already overflowing with other people’s contraband. We had hidden additional fireworks beneath bus seats, however, and those remained there when we returned. Other fireworks left in the restroom disappeared. It was reckless teenage behavior, but it became one of those unforgettable stories Bob and I shared because of Sharlotte.
These memories are told as I remember them more than fifty years later. Some names and small details may be imperfect, but the sense of adventure—and the astonishing freedom young teenagers sometimes had in that era—remains vivid.
The Family Gatherings
Sharlotte was always a good friend and one of the people who kept our large family connected. She regularly rented houses through what we would now call VRBO on Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket and welcomed everyone to join her. We would stay for a week, a long weekend or however much time we could manage.
One especially memorable gathering was in a large old farmhouse on either Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard. Marty and I were there, along with Jenny, Alan and Jody, Sharlotte and Bob, and other members of the family. The exact island has blurred with time, but the feeling of the gathering has not.
Later, when Bernie and I rented cottages at White Village with the kids, we organized similar family weeks. Everyone reserved separate cabins, but we spent the days together at the beach and around the cottages. Those vacations created years of shared memories among siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews.
Sharlotte married Bob, and they had two children, Thea and Charlie. I remember Thea’s naming ceremony and the many people gathered for it. They celebrated Passover every year, hosted Christmas gatherings at times and visited Mom and Dad regularly. Sharlotte and Bob were always a central and welcoming part of our family life.
Today the family is spread across the country—from California and Phoenix to Massachusetts and Florida, with many places in between. We all have families and obligations of our own, so gathering everyone is much harder. That makes the years when we lived closer together—and all the trips Sharlotte helped create—even more precious.
Peg, Liz, Mary, Jody, Tim and Sharlotte—the six siblings together.
There is nothing quite like growing up in a big family, with so many people involved and so many memories shared.
Sharlotte, Bob and the Next Generation
Sharlotte and Bob built a family of their own with Thea and Charlie, while still remaining closely connected to the rest of us. Their home became another gathering place for birthdays, holidays, Passover celebrations and ordinary afternoons when several generations ended up around the same table.
As the years passed, Sharlotte continued doing what she had always done so well: bringing people together. The Cape and island vacations, family weddings, beach days and visits with children and grandchildren became part of the same long family story that began when Peg and Sharlotte were little girls in Florida.
The photographs from these later years show the same welcoming spirit—Sharlotte at the beach with Jenny and Thea, Sharlotte and Bob at home, birthday gatherings, and a large family wedding where many branches of the family came together in one place.
Jenny, Sharlotte and Thea sharing a summer day at the beach.
Sharlotte, Bob and the Next Generation
Sharlotte and Bob built a family of their own with Thea and Charlie, while still remaining closely connected to the rest of us. Their home became another gathering place for birthdays, holidays, Passover celebrations and ordinary afternoons when several generations ended up around the same table.
As the years passed, Sharlotte continued doing what she had always done so well: bringing people together. The Cape and island vacations, family weddings, beach days and visits with children and grandchildren became part of the same long family story that began when Peg and Sharlotte were little girls in Florida.
The photographs from these later years show the same welcoming spirit—Sharlotte at the beach with Jenny and Thea, Sharlotte and Bob at home, birthday gatherings, and a large family wedding where many branches of the family came together in one place.
Jenny, Sharlotte and Thea sharing a summer day at the beach.
Sharlotte Through the Years
These photographs follow Sharlotte from early childhood through family gatherings, marriage, children and later beach trips. Every image opens at full size.
Dad, Mom, Peg and baby Sharlotte at Dad’s graduation.Peg and Sharlotte with Grandpa during a train trip.Sharlotte, Tim and Peg near the riverboats.Bob, Sharlotte and Thea together at home.Jenny, Sharlotte and Thea in the shallow water at the beach.A birthday gathering with Sharlotte, Jenny, Jody and Thea.Bob, Jenny, Jody and Thea around the rocking horse.A large family gathering at a wedding.Sharlotte holding Thea at the beach.Sharlotte and Thea smiling together at the beach.Peg, Liz, Mary, Jody, Tim and Sharlotte together.Dad holding Peg, Sharlotte seated on the steps and Mom holding baby Tim.
