Sunday, March 9, 2014
Uncle Busse (Charlie ) was my godfather. When i was growing up, I remember many weekends when my father would take me up to Chester. There was no Thruway and we had to go up through Manhattan, across the GW Bridge, up Route 17 to Goshen, Middletown and Chester. My dad & I would spend the weekend at the little house in Chester next door the the house owned by Mr. Kenny House. The sulphur water was terrible but company was terrific. I always felt like I was in my own house there because I could do whatever I wanted.
I also remember when Charles was born. Nana was there and there was a converstion on whethere he was to be called Charles, Jr or Charles III. I was really not interested but I know that there were opinions on both sides.
My first episode on the road to alchoholic depravity occurred one night in Chester when we were all at Kenny House's house. There was a barrel of hard cider in the dirt basement and the adults were to lazy to go down there to fill up the pitchers. So the job went Kenny Jr and myself. The cider had to be ciphoned from the barrel to fill up the pitcher and each time we did this, we got a mouthful of hard cider. It wasn't too long before we decided to just stay in the cellar and drink before the adults realized what was happening. Got put to bed right then and there with a stiff warning. Boy do I wish I could have been an adult then in the Benson family.
I wlll miss you Aunt Joan and our annual Christmas calls when you would bring me up to date on all the family.
We love love you now and forever!!
Michael & Motria
