The Story Of Stu Part 1!

The Story of Stu Part 1

I was born in the 1950's into a two parent loving home in Philadelphia Pennsylvania. My angel of a mom grew up in North Philly, the only white family on the block, running a kosher butcher shop to boot, my saint of a father was a star running back for Temple University, he had lots of pro teams interested in him until he took a 7 story fall while working a summer job at a sugar refinery his senior year, one of the things that best describes dad is upon hitting the ground he got up went to the infirmary for what appeared to be his only injury, a severely lacerated left arm. Two weeks later he was at football training camp! Just prior to the start of contact drills starting the coach called him over to end his career, the X-rays were finally read and he had a broken back! Dad stayed in superior shape until he entered his death bed in 2010 due to a 13.5 year battle with prostate cancer, in fact one of my last memories of him was exercising in that bed, stating,"another 2 weeks of exercise, my legs getting stronger and I will be able to walk again" No matter the challenge my parents never gave up! Dad worked for the same company for over 40 years, never making real money until I was 16 when we moved to Cherry Hill, Nj. Money never stopped our parents(3 siblings) from keeping a roof over our heads, feeding us and following his brother all over the country watching him play primarily for the Philadelphia Phillies farm system, in that pursuit we also visited many of the great historical sites this country has to offer! The 50-60's in Philly were times of turmoil and racial hate, I've personally been called an "n...lover, spic lover and dirty Jew" more times than I care to remember, why? Because my parents were different, we had people of every color and nationality in our home! One of my favorite memories of that time is our maternal grandparents would have the local deli deliver a food order, Clint the delivery man, a very gregarious giant African American man would time his deliveries for when the local games were on, my brother, dad and Clint would sit there and enjoy the games, mom serving everyone! This was just not done in Philly during that time period, it lead to many confrontations and even vandalism! Growing up in a home like this I should've known better to say what I said during a trip to Miami in 1965, we stopped at a local general type store in Georgia, the sign said "No Niggers, No Jews Served Here" Dad and I walked in and he immediately said lets go. I got a death stare and 300 mile lecture when I said, how would they know we're Jews? I couldn't be more proud of the home I grew up in!
Thanks for reading part 1