It was Mother’s Day recently.    Seems as good a place as any to start talking about mom.  Mom’s life in general and then her life with me.

My sister commented some time ago about how its only the ‘personalities’ that get in the way of truly connecting with others, and I think with families that is especially true.   We know and love each other, want to be kind and engaging and helpful.  But sometimes the personalities of each of us just get on that last nerve of another.  It can’t be helped really, I don’t think.

But to start things off, just the facts pretty much.

Mom was born Dorothy June Strubhar on June 5th, 1922, to Louis and Mary Strubhar in Normal, IL.   There was some moving around, some time spent in North Dakota maybe?…and a lot of time growing up in Peoria.

There was Margaret and Dorothy…Margaret was 12 years older than mom.  And mom was the child protegy.   She was the precocious little composer, writing operas and operatas when she was 10 or something.

She was a straight A student her entire life, except for one B.

She received a full scholarship to Eastman School of Music.

She graduated, her father died, her sister got married, they all moved to Miami where her sister’s new hubby was from.  I am not sure of the order of all of this, but this is the gist.

She got a job as the Music Director of WIOD or one of the other radio stations in Miami, where she met the dashing, intellectual, radio announcer/DJ at the station.

I wonder how mom would have turned out if she’d never met dad.  Was her entering the land of oz inevitable or did dad ignite her brain with thoughts of a depth she had never quite pondered and that, in turn, was her doom?

Or her awakening.  Who am I to judge?

We’ll answer the question who am I to judge in our next segment…..

In the meantime, we’ll flash forward a bunch of years, to where mom’s life was forced to take another new direction, north from Homestead, FL to Knoxville, TN

Welcome Hurricane Andrew…

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