One of my mother’s oldest and dearest friends died this week. Georgia Shearer had been fighting cancer and finally succumbed in her sleep.
When I was growing up we shared a cabin in the country with two other families; the Shearers and the Kornachers. The clubhouse was a small room with an L shaped room wrapping around two sides. The small room had a wood burning stove and bunk beds. My dad worked for
The adults stayed in the surrounding room. I never understood how they managed it. We sometimes spent winters there. The windows were screens with steel covers you raised with a rope. Our running water was stored in an old iron milk barrel with a tap welded at the bottom. We had to fill it at a nearby artesian well.
We were like one big extended family. If we weren’t at the clubhouse, we were hanging together at one of our homes in the Debaliviere neighborhood.
Bill played piano and his baby grand filled their front room. I've heard he was pretty good.
I remember Georgia wrapping a Christmas gift for Nick Jacovac when I was four. “Would you put my name on it too?” I asked. “Of course not!” she said. I felt like an ass. I’ll have to post a story about the Jacovacs one of these days. They are an interesting part of
Georgia and Bill got divorced after my parents did. Bill moved in with my dad for a while. He dragged a full sized upright piano into their small apartment. It was great. Then Bill died from throat cancer.
Under our Christmas tree a year later was a gift to me from Bill. It was spooky. It was an electronics hobby kit.
In my early twenties I thought it was important to stay in touch with people from my past. I visited
Years later after teaching a group of first time skydivers I noticed a woman’s who looked very familiar. “Are you Suzy Kornacher?” I asked. She said she had a different last name now and asked where I knew her from. I told her my name and we both stood there dumbfounded as our pasts rushed in. She invited me to a party at her house and insisted I bring my kids and my mother.
The party was great. A lot of my students were there. Even better her parents, Bob and Flo, and Georgia were there too. Everyone was much older of course. My mother was practically a shut in at the time and it was an opportunity to reestablish contact. They all began to talk on the phone and send emails.
My mother was just collecting photos to send to
This is one of those subjects that as I write, I realize there's more to tell than I can say here. I’ll have to do it in pieces I guess.
Rest in peace
Pics of Georgia holding me in front of a laundromat across the street from the Wabash train station on Delmar- left to right----- Bill, Bob and my dad under a Lautrec at the clubhouse-Mrs. Trendle and my mom- Flo and Georgia - Christmas at the clubhouse (I'm wearing binoculars)