adjective
- 1.(of items or people gathered or considered together) of various types or from different sources:"he picked up the miscellaneous papers"
IT’S A SMALL WORLD, OR SIX DEGREES OF
SEPARATION
We always
hear, “It’s a small world” when connections are made in our circle of
friends. There is also the phrase six
degrees of separation is all that separates all of us. Here are a few examples that support that
theory.
When my dad
was a young man he was in a terrible auto accident. Neighbors happened upon the scene, and
recognizing young Allie they rushed to his parent’s home to inform them that
their wild and reckless son had been killed.
(Fortunately, this wasn’t true, he just was unconscious. He raced
through life until the age of 89.) The couple was named Jarzyna, and years
later I met a woman, and through many conversations I learned her maiden name,
and that her parents lived in Romulus…. it was her parents who rushed to
deliver the bad news to my grandparents!
When my son
David was young, he had a friend named Tyler. One day, Tyler’s mom came to pick
him up from our house. As we sat and
talked, she mentioned Tyler started school at St Stephen’s in New Boston. I mentioned having relatives there, and as we
talked I mentioned that my Aunt Clara and Uncle Ed lived on Ozga Road. Well, her grandmother lived one street over, and
the yards abutted one another. She
called her grandmother and we talked a few minutes about the family and her
memories.
When my
nephew married a young woman we had known all our lives, same schools, same
church, same community, we welcomed her to the family. At a gathering that included her parents and
my father, the talk turned to beginnings, and both the Nowitzke’s and my dad,
Allie Joblinski, it was determined, had grown up in Romulus, MI. During the
conversation, Mrs. Nowitzke suddenly exclaimed, “Why you are the man who
terrorized the neighborhood by buzzing Middlebelt Road in your airplane!” We
never knew they were old neighbors. (And
there are other stories about the wild days when dad flew a plane, had a
motorcycle, and fast cars, and drove them all like a demon.)
When my
daughter Lena got married, I talked to her husband, Jason Zaioczkowski, about
his family. His grandparents lived on
Pennsylvania Road, just around the corner from my grandparent’s farm and apple
orchard on Eureka Road. Lena and Jason
had gone to Block’s vegetable market, and he mentioned knowing them forever,
just like my dad had. He didn’t remember
my grandparent’s farm, but his mother did.
Her dad went there for grain and apples.
Unfortunately, we didn’t know this until after his grandfather had
passed. That would have been a fun and
enlightening conversation.
The lesson
learned from my meanderings down memory lane? There are more places than the
library to learn about your past! Take advantage of all sources. Family gatherings and casual conversations
are a great place to glean information. I heard a lot of stories from these
sources. I just started writing some of
them down. I just wish I remembered
them all.
Rana
Joblinski Willit
12/17
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