I know I have told this story countless times…perhaps you didn’t get the chance to hear it though. Your birth was such an exciting event in our family. Your Dad was at work at the Palm Beach Company when I called him to tell him, “I think it is time to go.” That is the sentence that some expectant Moms use when they have had all they can handle with the timing of contractions and the worry and the overall not knowing feature of labor. I’m convinced that is why it is called “labor”. The actual work that took place was negligible as when your Dad arrived by bus, I might add (in those days young families had but one car. )How novel! Anyway, he walked from the bus stop to our apartment which was called Anderson Square Apartments, if you ever wanted to go to your first home, it is located on Beechmont Avenue in Cincinnati, Ohio. He came inside and started whistling and walking ever so slowly. Later on I figured out that was his way of coping. Anyway, we loaded up the car and took off for the hospital, which was called Bethesda Hospital, just a few miles from downtown Cincinnati where your Dad had just come from. When we arrived at the hospital, I tried to tell the admitting person that I thought you were about to be born very soon. She smiled and said okay, now fill out these papers and we will get the wheelchair and ride upstairs to labor and delivery. I got into the chair and into the elevator. When the door opened I was very anxious to get to the delivery room. That didn’t happen. They took me to the labor room, hooked me up to some type of monitor and when the nurse left the room, you entered the world. That is called precipitous birth. Quite remarkable of you! So you can see you were very happy to greet the world with enthusiasm. Now this news traveled very quickly. Your Grandparents Erich and Erika came to see you in the nursery. They stayed but a few moments and proceeded to call long distance to several relatives in Germany, as you were the first male child born in the Maelzer family. Your Grandmother, Mary, Mamma as you called her later, was there with us for your birth. She stayed in the family waiting area. All in all the day was a momentous event. We named you Erich Charles, the names of your Grandfathers. I felt so very proud to have accomplished this birth of such a beautiful little boy. By the time we took you home, you were becoming quite accustomed to girls watching every move you made as your two older sisters, Jackie and Susan took upon themselves the role of “little moms”. From then on, I think it was your goal to outsmart them and keep them hopping around looking for you. What fun we all had. Your Dad and I bought our first house on Autumn Leaf Lane to accommodate a large family. We had maple trees out front and you spent time with me collecting colorful leaves and putting them in buckets. I rode you around in a child seat on the back of my touring bike. We went everywhere together. We had some adventures in that house. One day you ate the potting soil in a plant in the living room. I knew you ate some of it because you had dirt on your little lips. The dirt ingestion would have been okay to do, as your great grandmother always said “a child must eat a peck of dirt before his life is over.” Well this dirt that you ate had beads of plant food in it. You probably guess what happened next. Call the doctor, take the syrup of Ipicac, vomit, go the the emergency room etc. etc. Nothing adverse happened. After a few hours we came back home. All in a normal day’s activities. Now we knew what it meant to have a boy in the house!
When you were four years old we moved to Baltimore, Maryland. You found a good friend named Josh who lived across the street. We lived on Jacinth Way. It was a street that was the home of several different nationalities. Josh was Polish American. He loved to include you in his outback adventures. You two would go into the woods, (you were around four years old then) and build camps and try to start fires. We only found this out much later. You rode your Big Wheel up and down the sidewalks and raced with anyone that would compete. I’m pretty sure you were always the fastest one! Your Grandparents, Mamma and Pappa would drive up to see you each month. Then we would go on sight seeing trips to see the Chesapeake Bay, Fort McHenry, the museums in Washington, D.C. and sometimes even travel to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania to visit historical places. You spent a lot of time on your Pappa’s lap listening to stories and your Mamma thought you hung the moon, so to speak. You began Kindergarten there a little earlier than most boys. You went to a Catholic School called St. Joseph School in Bellaire. Sister Georgeanne told me to bring you in and she would place you in kindergarten when you were still four years old. Your birthday was soon to arrive in two months. Back then it seemed a reasonable thing to do. (The truth is, I was worn out!) So your education began at a very early age. You did very well there. Your second grade teacher’s name was Mrs.Cup. Your were her star pupil. You were given the prestigious award of “Super Kid”, envied by all and wore the T-shirt with that name on it whenever your sisters aggravated you.
While we lived in Baltimore, a great snow storm came. We had 24 inches of snow packed tightly on the roads and roof tops. We were grateful that your grandparents were with us at the time as we had to walk everywhere to get supplies and they helped us to get around. The snow was deeper than your height, so you were carried very often through it. We had such fun digging out the cars and watching a lot of television. I noticed then that you were very interested in watching storms come and go. That particular snow storm that I mentioned had lightening and thunder occurring at the same time as the snow was falling at an inch an hour. You seemed particularly interested in that. I also remember in the spring months, you played baseball on the team of St. Joseph’s. Your Dad coached. You were quite the hitter. We had to move away when you were at your peak performance at the age of nine years of age. I think that was your last baseball game. What a shame. I began to notice you were becoming very athletic. Little did I know that golf would be your strongest game.
Timeline couldn’t be complete without mention of your detour to Bowdon, Georgia. I recall that when we were traveling to that destination, you said to your Mamma, “looks like a tornado hit this place!” Everyone in the car laughed so hard. We were traveling through Rome, Georgia at that time. It could have been culture shock as they call it. Thinking back upon our arrival in that small town, I remember how often you frequented the Super-D “department store.” It was the only store in the small town, other than the Hardie’s and the corner barber shop. Now there was a Pigly Wiggly also. The most notable thing about our new address was that we could walk everywhere and just about be everywhere all at the same time. You were on foot for the greatest part of our 17 month stay there. Whenever I couldn’t find you, I would get my bike out and ride down to the grave yard at the end of the street and there you were, tearing through the sidewalks on your 5-speed bike, in and out of the winding ways. It never occurred to me that this might be just a little disrespectful. It was so fun to do! We also watched the sky turn green and yes, a tornado did blow through there. You wanted to watch the whole event. Thus proving my earlier statement that you were so enchanted by the weather. And what other house did we ever live in that had a snack shop right next door (for the employees of Bowdon Clothing Co. ?) And what other residence had ghosts in the basement with the dirt floor and spider webs hanging all over just smacking you in the face whenever you had the courage to unlock the door and bump down the wooden staircase to that dark place? A very remarkable thing took place there. Cats multiplied and meowed whenever it was midnight. Was I dreaming? Your Dad and you and Mike built a gigantic, yes I said gigantic tree house in the small backyard. It was fully equipped for sleeping and snacking and hiding the kittens. Your Dad asked for the help of the son of the owner of the Clothing Company. His name was Tom Plunkett. Tom helped your Dad with the construction of that tree house, you and Michael added finishing touches. I wrote a story about that construction job, as Tom passed away shortly after its completion. No, the effort was not that overpowering. But the fact that an executive from a prominent company (they owned the town in a manner of speaking), felt that the children from that “family from Baltimore…with 5 kids….deserved a cool place to play. Pretty remarkable. I know I use that word a lot. But this time it really fits perfectly.
The schools there were oh so wonderful. Everyone in our family got straight A’s. Go figure. As the Mother of the household, I requested a transfer to Tennessee. With some maneuvering and begging, we did finally move to Tennessee. But not before I was able to enjoy a lunch with you in your middle school in Bowdon. I arrived there and took my seat next to you. I am sure it was most embarrassing. I wanted to meet your friends. To my surprise, you began speaking their “language”. I heard a voice with a dialect that surely must have originated in the deep south. I listened in amusement at the tales the person was telling. I looked from boy to boy and realized it was Erich speaking. He always tried to fit in. And he indeed had fit in for many months.
This brings me to another cherished story of your first acquisition of golf clubs. You learned to play golf at the Par 3 on Northshore Road in Knoxville. Almost immediately, the pros that came and gave lessons there, noticed your strength and agility. Your form was naturally good. You hadn’t learned the “wrong way to hold a club”, is what they said about you. As you became older, you tried out for the Farragut High School golf team and made it. As I recall, you needed a new set of clubs to compete. You were looking at Pings. I cannot recall the entire scenario of how you started out with a set of Pings, but if memory serves me well, I believe there were some bent shafts on your clubs. Now this may have happened when they flew up in the air at times. ..if you get my drift of young golfer, frustrated golfer, perfectionist etc. etc. I know that golf is a mental game and such. At any rate, I wrote a letter to the company that manufactured said clubs and presented our need. They sent an entire set of new clubs at no charge to us. Now that was a miracle for sure!
How can I omit the memory of your graduation night from high school? I was so proud of you as you walked to the podium to accept your diploma! I captured that moment on film, and this actual photo resides in my holy Bible for eternity I’m sure. You were the only guy at that ceremony that wore khaki slacks! There you were with your cap and gown with beige slacks peaking out underneath that ensemble. Awesome and way ahead of your time, with regard to fashion!
And then there was that year when we had realtors looking at our house which was for sale. I just couldn’t figure out why no one ever wanted to purchase such a beautiful home, until the realty agent said, “you might want to remove the Boa Constrictor from Erich’s room. It’s really freaking people out.” You really liked that big old snake that lived in the glass cage. Mystery solved!
Well, Son, there are many more adventures that I shall share with you at another time. Although one of my most cherished memories is when you stood next to me when my Mom was put to rest at the Gate of Heaven Cemetery. You stood so tall there beside me, and you put your arm around me and said not a word. Your eyes spoke to me. It was a peaceful day on August 14, 2004. I know you remember what your Mamma always said to you… “Erich, remember who you are and where you came from.” I want to thank you for keeping your grandparents belongings in your own wonderful home for all these years. Silence is louder than the spoken word. I am so blessed to have you by my side. Happy Birthday, Erich! And I will always remember what you told me, “Mom, it’s all good!” Thanks, Son.