Violet and Carmen

Me at 120 Washington Avenue, Downingtown, PA August 8, 2010

 Since the death of Bill I've been revisiting significant episodes of my life. 

I've been reading a lot about near death experiences and how when your soul departs from your body your life is reviewed with a "Board of Elders". This is not judgement but rather a video review of  your life. How you treated others in your life both from your aspect and their aspect, how you made them feel. I haven't died but I have been having dreams, both at night and during the day of reviews of my life and those episodes.

One episode that has always stuck with me my whole life was the Mystery of Carmen and Violet. 

From 1943 to 1954 I lived with my family at 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown, Pennsylvania.

That little kid with the fat ass would be me running up the stairs to our apartment on the second floor. The two adults are my mom and my father. This photo take around 1946, the time of the "Carmen and Violet Mystery"

 We lived in a second floor two bedroom apartment that rented for $22.50 a month (I will always remember that rent because my Mother often had problems coming up with that amount monthly). 

120 Washington Avenue, Downingtown, Pa 
September 10, 2004

Other member of my Tipton family also lived in that apartment building, which is stills standing today. And interestingly it is still in the white trash section of Downingtown. Yes, our family was white trash, another word for POOR.  My father was an uneducated hillbilly from North Carolina who came with his eight brothers and mother and father in 1929 from the mountains of western North Carolina to southern Chester County to work as cheap farm labor at his uncle Don Byrd's fruit and vegetable farm in Unionville, Pennsylvania. My Mother was descended from a poor Quaker families who had immigrated to Pennsylvania in the late 1600's. Her mother died before she was two years old. Her father was a philanderer and physically and mentally abused her as the youngest of her family. She ran off and got married at sixteen years of age when she met my father on a double date (she switched dates with her girlfriend when she saw my father and his drop dead hillbilly looks for the first time.

My father at 21 years of age. He met my Mother when he was 18 years old. My Mother knew what she wanted and she went after it! Shortly before she died she told me "Your father was the only man I was ever with."

My father was originally her girlfriend's date but when my father drove up in his car with a rumble seat in the back my Mother told her friend Edie "You get in the back with Hank, I'm sitting up front with HIM!" 

I found this picture of my parents in his wallet after he died. He carried it all those years (60) that they were married.

Now that I have set the background to my story of the "Mystery of Carmen and Violet." 

Carmen and Violet lived in the neighboring apartment on the second floor where we lived. 

They had a little girl whose name I don't remember now but I do remember the names "Carmen and Violet." I also remember that evening December 11th, 1946 when something very serious happened. 

I had just turned five years old. I had just started first grade. I was awakened by a lot of muffled voices and shuffling around. I got up and went into the small hallway separating our apartments (it was very small, I guess that's why my parents were so friendly with Carmen and Violet, they were also about the same age). The police were there with flash lights. They entered Carmen and Violet's apartment in the dark with their flashlights dancing about the small room looking for Carmen and Violet's little girl. Their little girl was between a year and two years old. She was in the apartment by herself and was still groggy from being awakened. I asked my Mother what was going on. She told me to go back to bed. Of course I couldn't, I was born nosey. She eventually told me that Carmen and Violet had been in an accident and they had to take the little girl (I wish I could remember her name) away. I've forgotten a lot in my life but that is one episode that I never forget. The confused look on that little girl's face as the police carried her out of that darkened apartment. Later, much later I found out that Carmen and Violet, along with another couple were killed in a head on crash with an oncoming truck on Route 322 returning from West Chester after purchasing paint. My Mother told me the details of the story about Carmen and Violet about 2005 after I asked her during one of the trips I often took her to visit her relatives. She was now forthcoming with the information on Carmen and Violet.  I told her that I often remembered that night the police came into our cockroach infested apartment building and searched out for Carmen and Violet's little girl who no longer had parents. That was the first time in my life I know SOMETHING WAS WRONG even though no one would tell me what happened.

It's a funny think this story has stuck in my head all these years, often coming back. A few years ago a "Remember Downingtown" group formed on Facebook. I joined it because I had memories to share. Someone else posted their memory about that accident that Carmen and Violet were in. A head on crash with the four of them in their car rounding a turn on Rt. 322 returning from the nearby town of West Chester after buying paint. Four people dead. Lives cut short. A little girl an orphan.

I've often wondered over the years what happened to that little girl. I think one of the reasons I've always remembered this story and that night was because of the exotic name "Carmen and Violet." I don't remember what they looked like but I do remember what their little girl looked like and that their apartment was small. Eventually my Uncle Dude Tipton and Aunt Jeanne Tipton moved in that little apartment with their four little girls. My Uncle Henry and his wife Margaret lived in the apartment above us. 

Why do I bring this story up now? This morning I searching for high school records on Ancestry.com and I came across a link for an Edward Thompson. The reason the "Thompson" link showed up on my Ancestry.com account was because my cousin Jane Tipton (daughter of the aforementioned Henry and Margaret Tipton) eventually married John Thompson, a relative of Edward Thompson. Does  your head hurt now? So what does Edward Thompson have to do with Carmen and Violet? Edward Thompson was the father of Violet. 

What came up on Ancestry.com? Carmen and Violet's death certificate. 

Carmen Marino's death certificate

Violet Thompson Marino's death certificate

I pay a lot for my annual membership of Ancestry.com. the past five years I've rarely used it what with my quarterly holidays with Pat and the last three years taking care of Bill. This year I was considering cutting back on my full membership for a cheaper price but now I have changed my mind. Ancestry.com has opened up so much to me that was previously lost to history. I love this kind of information. Looking at Carmen and Violet's death certificates I now know the date and time of their accident and deaths. 

I hope I haven't bored anyone to death with post on this serendipitous discover. I am fascinated with this kind of history especially from my past.

I am convinced when I die I will find out ALL THE ANSWERS. I am so looking forward not only to reuniting with Bill, which I know will happen but also meeting all my relatives again. I'm also looking forward to that review of my life and know what former lives I have lived. Do I sound crazy? I'm not I assure you. I never did subscribe to this man made religion (Organized Religion). Never made sense to me. But what does make sense to me is that our souls or spirit inhabits our physical bodies during this earthly learning experience. I don't fear death. Our real life is our spirit and when we die we really do go Home. Maybe I'll see Carmen and Violet. 

Video House Tour Of Our Pennsylvania Home October 2005

These days, after the passing of Bill I've been very reflective of our past years together.

This video that I'm posting today is a video copy of an 8mm film compilation that Bill and I made of our previous home in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. We had our home built on 6.875 acres of wooded land in 1980. This home was to be our dream home. We planned to spend the rest of our lives in this home but that dream was cut short by the ever increasing Pennsylvania school taxes we could no longer afford to pay. 

In this video you will see me refer to getting ready to spend two weeks in Rehoboth Beach Delaware. At that time I was scheduled to house and cat sit for two women who were going to spend a few months in the winter in Florida golfing. 

I don't remember seeing this video before. I just watched it which brought back a lot of fond memories of the wonderful house that we had in Pennsylvania. I will harbor a resentment against Pennsylvania for taxing us out of our wonderful Pennsylvania home the rest of my life. So many of my Delaware neighbors moved here from several high tax Eastern states like Pennsylvania, New Jersey (even worse than Pennsylvania), and New York. 

Watching this video reminds me of how much I miss my longtime friend Bob McCamley (we met when we were in Army together in 1960). Bob died in 2013 of Parkinson's Disease. 

It's interesting seeing both me and Bill when we were much healthier. I could walk like a normal person. Look at me going up the stairs. I could actually do it on my own. Now I struggle. Even walking on even surfaces I struggle. I like the exchanges between me and Bill, the little digs at me when he says "junk". I do tend to accumulate.

Watching this video I am also reminded of my ponds. Oh how I miss those ponds. They were self filtering and crystal clear. I have a pond here but I don't have an electrical pond filter here. My ponds here aren't so clear but the goldfish who inhabit them are happy and reproducing.  I refresh the pond water here with a hose from my well. Interesting I always used to say "we" when referring to anything around this house but since Bill is no longer with me, I have to get used to saying "my", which always causes me sadness.

This video is long. You're not required to watch it of course. But I do want to post all my videos that I had made from our many 8mm films. I have them all in my You Tube account now under "Private" but since I don't plan to be around much longer in this world, I figure I better make them "Public" so there is a history for anyone who is interested in my time on this planet. 

I'm cleaning up things folks for my eventual Final Exit. Maybe some distant relative in the future will be interested. I hop so . If not, well I tried. One thing I do know now is than none of my relatives now are interested. Not even one of my twenty-four nieces and nephews. Which is sad but it is what it is. 

Downingtown High School Class of 1959 35th Class Reunion

November 26th, 1994 I drug my huge VHS, shoulder balanced tape recorder to my 35th class reunion and recorded this hour and a half (approximate) tape. 

Now here is a test for my longtime blog followers, are you willing to sit through an hour and a half of a video watching people you don't know? Unfortunately, you don't see much of me because I'm the one video taping the festivities.  You do see me long distance for the Chicken Dance and the skit with the monster masks sitting on the balloons (yes, we really did do something that silly).  I'm the one in the silver sequined top hat.
  

(from left to right) Patty Daller Beaton, Ron Beaton (decd), Jane More Hersehy (decd), Bob Hershey
(back row left to right) Jean Timmerman Swisher, me (Ron Tipton in top hat), Pat West Ensor
November 26, 1994

Which by the way I'm trying to get one for our 60th class reunion which will be held next year at St. Anthony's Italian Social Club in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. the site of our original graduation party in June of 1959.  Back in those pre digital times all I took was a roll of black and white film of which I am in none of the pictures.  I didn't think to ask anyone to take pictures of me back then, I was Humble Ron back then. It was all I could do in my shyness to take pictures of my fellow classmates. 

Me with my custom made class reunion tie - very cool!

Watching this video of my 35th class reunion brings back many fond memories because at least a third of my former classmates in this video have passed on.  But, I'm still here and ready and raring to take another video of my 60th class reunion next June.  Pat will be with me and I'll ask him to take video with me in them. Now to get that fabulous sequined top hat, which I'm having trouble finding even on Amazon.com.  All they have are the cheap Made in China hats.  

Me, the video photographer November 26, 1994

Enjoy the video folks!

Twas The Night Before........

Ny first Christmas with Bill - 1964
Pennsauken, New Jersey

Or something like that.  Only a few more days to go before Santa dumps his load (or something like that). It's one of those days folks. 

Original photo - oh whatever happened to that sweater - they don't make them like that anymore

It doesn't feel much like Christmas this year.  No, I'm not a "Bah Humbug" kind of guy, it's just that each year Christmas seems to come to early and then, before you know it, Christmas is gone and the Mummers are marching down Broad Street Philadelphia in the cold winds of the new year.  

Female impersonator Philadelphia Mummers Parade - 1965
Back when female impersonation was dangerous

Me, yes in "bank drag" (overcoat and horn rimmed glasses) at the Philadelphia Mummers Parade 1965

Then comes the Big Gray Chill, the bitter cold monochrome months of January, February and March.  The "just get through it" months of mid winter.  The "I hope it doesn't snow two feet" months.    

When I was a kind, which was a LONG time ago, Christmas couldn't come fast enough.  Such was the glittery promise of the magic of getting free things.  Invariably I was always disappointed with my "take" but I still remember my favorite Christmas.  That was the Christmas of 1954 when I was twelve years old, I received my first camera. Oh sure, I know what some of my faithful blog followers are thinking "So that's when it ALL STARTED with Ron and HIS CAMERA."  Yep, that is when it started.  Even then, at the tender age of a dozen years I started clicking away.  My year each younger brothers John and Isaac were the involuntary subjects of many of my first photo assaults.  

My brothers Isaac, John and our pets Bobby (the cat) and Sam (the dog) - Christmas - 1954

My camera was one of those inexpensive Kodak Brownie cameras. I took a lot of pictures for a Fifties teenager but, looking back from my vantage point now, not near as many as I wish I had taken.  Perhaps the main reason I didn't take more pictures was that it was just too darn expensive.  To take an eight picture role, I had to buy the film and then get it developed. I forget exactly what the film cost but I know getting it processed was usually a couple of dollars and took at least a week of anxious anticipation waiting (to see "if they came out") until I got the developed pictures back from the Sam Charles News Agency where I took them for developing.  

The Charles News Agency (on the left) Downingtown, PA - 1970 (the earliest I could get a picture - I bicycled this street (Lancaster Avenue, Route 30) from 1954 to 1959 - where I grew up

The only known picture of my on my newspaper bicycle - one of my brothers took this picture - don't blame me - 1954

I was a newspaper boy back in those days and earn about $5.00 a week, which after what I spent on candy and comic books; didn't leave a whole lot left for buying and developing film.  But I did manage to take quite a few pictures for a Fifties teenager, more than almost all of my friends and classmates I daresay.  

"Bobby" - 1954 - my first and only cat pet - a willing photo subject

Fifties Memories

Me (center, white sleeved shirt) with my friends (from left to right) Billy Smith (baseball cap), PeeWee Smith, me, Dayton "Chubby" Shores, and my brother Ike Tipton, Jr. (with baseball glove)

Growing up in a small Pennsylvania town in the Fifties was wonderful!

Our family moved to Downingtown, Pennsylvania when I was five years old (1947).  Prior to that time we lived in the country.  

I found out only a few years ago why our family moved to "town" as living in Downingtown was called.  My Mother told me my father had lost his driver's license.  He didn't have a car and had to walk to work so he needed a place close to where he worked.

He found it at a three story apartment building at 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown, Pennsylvania.  The apartment building was owned by the man, David Ginsburg, who employed my father at Waste Motor Haulage Trucking Company in Downingtown, where my father worked as a truck driver then as a welder.  The rent was $22.00 a month.  

Living in town as a "townie" was perhaps the best experience that I could have had as a kid growing up.  It is interesting how a random event like my father temporarily losing his driver's license changed the whole course of my life.  

Living on Washington Avenue I was able to walk to school.  I was also able to make many neighborhood friends which changed my whole development as a young man growing up.  If I had my life to do over again I would not change a thing.  

Sure, we were poor.  In fact we were REALLY poor, but it didn't matter. At the first rays of daylight (in the summertime) we were out of the apartment building meeting up with our friends.  We were out all day until dark, and then sometimes we were even out then playing Hide 'n Seek.  I can still hear my Mom calling "You boys better get in here or I'm telling your father!" Translated, "Telling your father!" meant an encounter with his belt.  

Ah yes, fond memories of a wonderful, innocent time.  At least we didn't have to fear a nut case mowing us down with an assault rifle.  

Me (the tall on in the middle of course) with my two brothers (Isaac on the left and John on the right) - 1951
We were treated to Dixie Cups after we weeded our assigned rows of corn

Weekly Roundup

Another busy week folks!

Sunday I traveled to Lionville, Pennsylvania for my 53rd high school class reunion which was held at the Chicago Bar and Grill.  I'm one of those class members who likes to go to the class reunions.  Actually, I only like to go to my high school class reunion because I know everybody.   I don't go to my college class reunion because I wouldn't know a soul there.  I went to night school at Peirce College in Philadelphia on the G.I. Bill for three nights a week for four years.  My fellow class members were just a blur to me.  But my former high school class members, we're all friends and keep in touch over the years.

The Downingtown High School Class of 1959 - 53 years later Sept. 23, 2012

This year I asked my friend and fellow blogger Mark of "Our Simple Lives" to take photos for me.  I asked him at the last minute almost.  Fortunately Mark obliged and took some great photos which I am now sharing with my classmates and will post on future blogs.

Jean Timmerman and Ron Tipton - I always sat behind Jean in class back in those alphabetical class seating days.  

Notice that we're color coordinated.  No, we didn't call each other the night before the reunion to check.

Jean - 1959 graduation photo

Ron - 1959 graduation photo

I really enjoyed seeing all of my OLD classmates and am looking forward to next year's reunion.

Monday morning I had an early dental appointment (7:30 am).  I got my teeth (and partial dentures) cleaned and came out clean without any new cavities.  There's no room left for cavities in my mouth!

Wednesday I had the big stress test.  THAT took about three hours.  I don't want to go through another one of those anytime soon.  They don't call it a STRESS TEST for nothing.  My electrocardiogram indicates an extra "blip", that is why I've been undergoing a series of heart test the past few weeks.  While I was on the treadmill the doctor said the "blip" disappeared.  However I am still getting those little whiffs of highs (lightheadedness) all day long. I think that has something to do with the "blips."  We'll see, my appointment with my cardiologist is next week and he will go over the findings with me. Funs time folks!.  Maybe this old body is slowing down.  Do you think?

I'm working Mondays and Tuesdays at the hotel.  My new days work out fine.  I feel like I have a longer week by having the rest of the week off.  Previously I worked Wednesdays and Thursdays.  I felt like I had a shortened week.  These days work better for me too because all my appointments and other activities seem to occur later in the week.  The only downside to my new days is that I don't make as many reservations because the beginning of the week is usually considered the slow time in the hotel business.

Bill and I had a little issue with the car.  He can't help himself, he's an inveterate backseat driver.  We now have a New Rule.  Whenever we go someplace together, he will drive.  We were hoping to buy our friend's car but that doesn't look like that's going to happen in our lifetime.  This is the friend who has dementia and his partner can't make a decision.  The hubcaps on his car already has spider webs.  I guess then mold appears on the car they'll be ready to sell.  It's just as well.  We don't have room to store another car anyway.

Downingtown High School - many fond memories

Last Visit to the Old House in PA

Our former home at 161 Crawford Road, Downingtown, PA today

Bill and I just returned from a day long trip to our former home in the woods outside of Downingtown, PA.

We are exhausted.  The drive up and back is a total of five hours.  That's a lot of hours on the road on a hot, humid and brutal day like today for two old buzzards like me and Bill.  With the exception of perhaps one or two days, this whole summer has been a succession of brutally hot and humid days of 90 degrees plus temperatures.  Today was no exception.

Today's visit to our formerly beautifully landscaped home on 6.875 of wooded acres in East Brandywine Township was bittersweet.  This was our last visit before the house and property will be auctioned off for non payment of back real estate taxes in excess of $17.000.  The owner also owes over $600,000 in mortgage payments plus penalties, interest and legal costs. There is also a per diem cost.  The meter is ticking.

Apparently the former owner just walked away from the property that he bought from us on November 17, 2006 for $500,000.  He lived in Florida and saw our home advertised on the Internet.  We later found out that his wife had threatened to leave him unless he moved her and their two young daughters out of the brutal heat and humidity of Florida.

There is another whole story about how I almost went off the financial cliff with selling my house that I won't go into great detail here except to say that I originally put my house up for sale January 9th, 2006 at a price of $695,000.  Yes, I got greedy.  My real estate agent advised me to put it on the market for $650,00 and be happy if I got a settlement of $625,000.  But, I fell into the "I know better than the real estate agent" trap and insisted that I could get a better price.

On January 14th I had an offer of $640,000 which I turned down.  I actually laughed at the offer.  What I didn't know was at that time I was right on the edge of the housing bubble.  Eleven months later, after seven failed settlements, I was finally able to sell my house for $500,000.  Except for maybe a terminal illness, this was the worst experience I've ever had in my life.  I was at the cliff's edge and I saw the abyss.  It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life.

Where I almost went down the financial tubes was I had built another house in Delaware (the one I'm in now) and was carrying a mortgage on that house at the same time I was trying to sell my other house.  The market found out (probably because of my big mouth) and they smelled blood in the water.  After a lot of scrambling and sleepless nights, I was finally able to sell my house to this man who was trying to keep his marriage together and me trying to keep Bill from committing suicide.  Me?  I was going crazy.

On September 19th our house will be auctioned off at the Chester County Courthouse in West Chester, Pennsylvania.  We will not be there.  This chapter of our life is closed.

Bill took a few more videos today.  I took a few pictures.

Me surveying the neglect of our former home from one of the terraces that Bill built - he laid every brick by hand over a 20 year period

The video and the pictures don't show the true neglect that has befallen our once showpiece property.

Whoever gets this property will be getting a real bargain.

One thing is for sure, the birds and other wildlife don't seem to mind that there isn't anyone living there anymore.

My only regret are the loss of all my goldfish that thrived in my three ponds.  Most of those goldfish were born in this ponds and that was the only life they knew.  They are long gone.  The ponds are still there, dark and dank.  The only living organisms in those ponds now are mosquito larvae and toads.

The Dual Ponds with water fountain - May 1980

Happy goldfish waiting for me to feed them

Dual Ponds  - many generations of goldfish were born in these ponds

I hope whoever buys the property will restore it to it's former glory and enjoy it as much as we did the twenty five years that we lived there.  That property used to sing.  I hope it does again.

Sad Trip

The "Welcome to Pennsylvania" sign at the Delaware-Pennsylvania border outside Newark, Delaware

Hey Ron =

 

Hope you and Bill are well.  It's been a hot time around here has your area has escaped this warm summer? 

 

Forgive me for not keeping in touch....seems Mike and I are always on the go and travel more now than ever (we are fortunate to be able to do so).

 

While reading the fine print in the Daily Local News this morning, I came across a notice of "Upset Sales" being held Sept. 13, 2010.  These properties are for sale through the Chester County Tax Claim Bureau to satisfy unpaid taxes - could be municipal, county, or school district taxes.  Anyhow, I noticed that 161 Crawford is listed (the owner's name is shown as David Goldschmidt) and the amount owed is $17,405.92. 

 

I called the Tax Claim Bureau to ask how this works and was told that the $17,000 listed is theoretically the starting price of the auction for the home but the bidding could go much higher.  Sad to see your beautiful place in such a state.

 

Mike and I occasionally go up the driveway to look around - hopefully, the inside of the home is not damaged.  Those of us who live in the woods know that mold and mildew are a constant problem and you must stay on top of it.  I didn't see any damage from recent storms other than a lot of branches down on the ground.  We actually lost several trees.

 

Remind me of your mailing address and I will cut out this page of the paper and mail it to you.

 

Regards,

Becky

This is an e-mail I received yesterday from my former neighbor and friend Becky C.  It is in reference to our former home in Pennsylvania.  Early this morning Bill and I made a return trip to our former home.

Bill and I built our former home in 1980 from 6.875 acres of wooded land we purchased in East Brandywine township in 1976.  We sold our home in November of 2006.  We had over twenty five wonderful years in our wooded paradise.  Bill put unmeasurable sweat equity into our former home.  We raised three beautiful Pomeranian dogs at our home on 161 Crawford Road, Downingtown, Pennsylvania.

Last year another former neighbor of our told us that our former home was up for sale.  We were very surprised because the young couple from Florida who had purchased our home seemed so happy on the day of settlement.  I remember the young man and his beautiful blonde wife (I kidded him about how did he ever manage to get such a beautiful wife) telling me that his two young dark haired daughters would now have plenty of space to play.

Now to hear this news, that our former beautiful home is now going to be auctioned off for payment of back taxes.  What makes it especially sad is that Bill never wanted to move to Delaware.  I was forced to sell our home and move to Delaware because I could no longer afford to pay the ever escalating high school property taxes of Pennsylvania.  How ironic that our former home is now going to be auctioned off because of failure to pay those very taxes.

The trip today was very sad.  Our formerly beautifully manicured property is now overgrown with weeds.  The roof gutters are crammed with debris.  The three fish ponds that I had so lovingly cared for are now dark with dead leaves and the only occupants are frogs.  Long gone are the many goldfish who who were born, lived and died in those ponds for years.  

Bill at the entrance that he built to our former Pennsylvania home this morning

The leaf strewn entrance to our former garage - many a trip was made up this incline

Bill built this terrace, one brick at a time. It took him over 20 years to complete

The front of the house - the ivy and green mold is taking over

Me on the steps of the sunroom that Bill built, one brick at a time

The "grand staircase" of steps that Bill built - one brick at a time

One of the  three hundred dollar lamps that Bill put on top of his masterpiece

Gone are the days are the sounds of the happy "yap! yap!" of our Poms now replaced with the occasional breeze through the tall pine trees and the birds who now have taken back possession of their woodland home.  

The auction is scheduled to take place Monday, September 13th.  We will be there. If we had the money, we would buy it back.  But we don't.  One thing is for sure, whoever does buy our former home will be getting a bargain.  We spent many a happy day there.     Our dogs are still buried there, near one of the ponds.  Their ghosts still romp in the grass.

Me playing with Horace 1982 a year after moving into our new home

Horace looking at his new home 1982

Me posing for a 1985 Christmas card picture with "the kids" at the entrance

Me with Horace and his daughter "Babydoll" in happier times 

Note:  I'm keeping the "happy" music on this posting because this is the way I want to remember our former home.  Our dogs lived a long, good life on that property as did Bill and I.  We will miss it terribly.  

Family Reunion

Me pulling out of my garage to put the final touches on the family reunion arrangements

After much planning and coordinating zero hour of the Tipton Family Reunion is finally here.




I left my home in Delaware and arrived late this morning at my brother Isaac’s home outside of Downingtown, PA.

Me leaving home at 8 am this morning

We took an early lunch at Pizzeria Uno in Lionville. Deep dish pepperoni pizza for Ike and an eggplant, sun dried tomatoes and feta cheese pizza for me. Isaac rated his pizza a 6 but I rated mine an 8.

Brother Isaac's deep dish pepperoni pizza (6)

Brother Ronald's eggplant, sun dried tomato and feta cheese pizza (8)

Then it was off to the East Brandywine Community Park to clean up the pavilion to get it ready for the first Tipton family reunion since 1997. I can’t believe that thirteen years have passed since the last reunion, which was held at the same location.

The Alison Pavilion where our reunion will be held

Ike and I had to rearrange the heavy picnic tables, not an easy task for a 68 and 67 year old men. If he have another reunion in 13 years I don’t think we’ll be rearranging the tables again. We will have to call on some of the younger generation of Tiptons to help with that task That is if we’re still around.



A few days ago I was looking at a DVD I had made of the VCR tape that I had taken of the last reunion and I was surprised at how many of my relatives have passed on since that October 4, 1997 date. This fact is a reminder to me to have more frequent reunions in the future. I can’t let 13 years pass between reunions again.



After rearranging the tables we had to clean the floor of the pavilion. It was gritty with gravel and dirt. Ike had a good idea to use a leaf blower. That is what he is doing in the picture posted on this blog.

Brother Isaac using the leaf blower to clear out the dirt on the floor of the pavilion

I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to display the Tipton Family Reunion banner that cousin John Tipton made for the last reunion. However, my fears were soon put to rest because Isaac and I found that we could tie the banner to the bulletin board at the entrance to the pavilion.



All that remained was to find tablecloth clamps for the vinyl tablecloths. The pavilion is very windy and the multicolored table cloths I purchased at Walmart would quicky blow away in the green grassy knolls surrounding the pavilion. Off we went to Lowe’s for tablecloth clamps. Of such minutia we were now charged with. After about two hours we found some tablecloth weights at a Christmas store. The darn things cost more than the tablecloths. Oh well.



Now it was back to home base and rack my brain for anything I may have forgotten.



Thank goodness the weather forecast tomorrow at 71 degrees and low humidity is almost perfect. I’m not bragging (would I do that) but I did guarantee perfect weather.



Now to get a good night’s sleep so I can be all fresh and sparkly for tomorrow’s reunion. Lots of stress here but it’s worth it. You only get one family. I am very thankful that we will able to see each other tomorrow and renew old friendships and meet new cousins.

The way I feel now