Estellooch

This anecdote defines my mother: she's in her seventies, a petite woman, walking home to her apartment.  In her path was a large group of teenage boys (perhaps 20 or 30); they had just gotten out of South Orange Middle School for the day.  Like most teenage boys, they were rowdy and loud, happy their school day was over.

As my mother approached, she was somewhat uneasy around so many rambunctious kids.  As she was literally walking through the crowd, two of the boys started wrestling with each other, very close to where Estelle was walking.  She was concerned about being accidentally trampled or knocked over.  She stopped short, faced the mob, and shouted, "Hey, cut it out!"

This got everyone's attention, and all the boys froze as they turned and silently stared at my mother.  She maintained her angry glare.  After a few awkward seconds, one and then several and then the rest of the boys burst out laughing.  And then so did my mother.  Everyone present had a good time with that one.  She continued her walk home, laughing all the way.  That was Estelle...in your face, feisty, and loved to laugh.

Talkin Trash

My sister Dale and I both had the habit of climbing into bed with our parents almost every night.  Dale stopped when she was four or five, while I broke myself of the habit when I left for college.  Okay, maybe a little before that.

One hot, humid night I climbed in with my parents.  Swede began a stern lecture, saying it was time for me to be a big boy and stay in my own bed, no more being a baby, etc.

His lecture in the dark of night lasted a couple of minutes.  When he finished, the room became quiet.  My parents were waiting for some kind of response, and they got one.  I gave my father a solid backhand to the face--not a light tap, but a hard smack.  Evidently I did not care for the content of my father's lecture.  Swede's reaction was to explode in laughter, which got my mother laughing.  What a break!  My father's reaction could easily have gone in a different direction.  Swede and Estelle told that story often.  The moral:  If I'm in bed with you, don't criticize me.

The Great Race

I've always loved the picture of Julie (age 7) racing her grandfather (age 71) toward the camera.  Two fierce competitors, neck and neck.  I love their broad smiles and the fact that their strides and body lean were so similar.  

Julie always claimed her grandfather won, while Swede was sure Julie won.  Let's call it a draw.

What Happened to Me??

My parents were both extremely good looking.  My mother, Estelle, (one of her male classmates told me all the guys wanted to marry her) was quite the knockout, and Swede was just a big, handsome guy.  I remember the frequent instances when people would come up to me and say "Bobby, your parents are so good looking...what happened to you?"  Oy.

Versatility

About 10 years ago there was a column written in the Star-Ledger of Newark by John McGlaughlin.  He referred to Swede as an athlete of "extraordinary versatility".  Upon reflection, my father sure was remarkable in the range of sports that he not only participated in, but starred in.  He was dominant on the football field, as a runner, passer, linebacker, punter and receiver.  In basketball he excelled at scoring, rebounding, passing, and defending.  In track and field he excelled at the shot put, discus, sprints, high jump, and hurdles, and in college, when he took up soccer, he was named to the coaches All-American team.  He was a great volleyball player, swimmer and diver, and he became an excellent tennis player when he took the sport up later in life.  His college basketball teammate told me he was "by far" the best wrestler in the school.  

He was always lauded for his sportsmanship and for his effort; indeed, the thing I admired the most about my father's athletic achievements is that he was never very impressed with himself.  As different as he was as an athlete, he was best known for the way he carried himself...with total humility.  The title of his obituary was "Swede Masin, Humble Newark Sports Icon".  I was so glad his humility was stressed.  That was Swede.