Four Years Blogging

As is my tradition, I pay tribute to my late Mom and mark the anniversary of my blog.  As is also my tradition, I am tardy with it.  By at least two weeks!

Before I explain the picture, I want to give my belated welcome to Keep It Klassy, Salem, a relatively new blog that has been around for several years.  I don’t agree with the blogger on many things but I am delighted that someone is following Salem politics after the demise of the old Salem Politics blog.  His blog is in my blogroll now, as is the new Salem Patch, which has flashes of excellence and could be the future of news media on the North Shore, at least if AOL lets it.

Now, the picture.  As I’ve said on numerous occasions, I came from a foster home, and Jeannette Moisan was my foster mom and for all purposes my defacto Mom.  On the left is Pauline, Jeannette’s biological daughter.  If we were related by blood we would be brother and sister.  But she wasn’t my foster sister;  we had many girl foster children but none of them was ever, or ever could be, a “sister”.  So Pauline was also my defacto sister.

The cute little toddler with her is Monique.  Mom looked after many kids like her, but she was one of the sweetest.  She would turn on the charm and be manipulative as only a toddler could.  We had a dozen Monique stories, such as when she learned to say my sister’s name—and then kept her up all night saying “PAU-LYLINE!”  Or the time Pauline was in a fruit stand in Peabody and Monique yelled “DA-DA” (her name for me.)  Pauline tells her, “Da-da’s not here!”  Unknown to her I had, for whatever reason, walked down from Varney St. to find Pauline and walk into that same fruit stand…

What a sweet kid she was.  It was hard to see her go back to her Mom.  I hope she’s doing well today.

One last picture with Jeannette:

Remembering Elliot

[Courtesy photo from the Salem News used without permission.]

Last week, my colleague and friend on the Salem Commission on Disability had sad news:  His longtime guide dog, Elliot, passed away.

We have plenty of stories on the Commission about Elliot.  He was Andy’s second guide dog, following the retirement of Yates, both dogs having been fostered and trained by Fidelco Guide Dog Foundation.

One of the hardest things to remember when meeting any service animal—and I have met many over the years—is that the animal is “on the clock”.  It’s working for its owner, doing its job.  You can’t pet the animal or talk to the animal or interact with it as you would a pet.

As a pet lover in general, this is hard for me to remember.

Elliot made it even harder.

Elliot, like many dogs, loved most humans and wanted very much to meet new friends.  Whenever I got into a car with Andy to go somewhere, Elliot would jump in the back seat, but not before giving his fellow passengers a kiss and a lick with his tongue as if to say, “Hi!  You can be my buddy?!”

During Commission meetings, Andy would often pick the seat next to mine, near the center of the table.

Elliot would turn to me, lick my hand and look at me for acknowledgment.  It was hard to ignore him, yet I had to gently nudge him to curl up next to Andy for the remainder of the meeting.

Which he did.  Fidelco is not only good at socializing its foster dogs, but also training them. 

Elliot was a great dog.

He will be missed, and not only by Andy.

The 2010 Fidelco Walk next week is dedicated to Elliot.

My colleague, Jean Harrison, had this  memory of Elliot:

I really thought of Elliot as an under the table commissioner.  He was a dear, sweet dog.  I occasionally had the good fortune to have him rest his head against my leg or on my foot.  Which was very nice & made me feel welcome as the most junior commissioner.

Very sweet.  Thanks, Jean, for letting me repost this.

Happy Mother’s Day

Jeannette Moisan, Varney St., July 1979

If Jeannette saw me at Commission meetings, I’d never hear the end of it!  I’m sorry she’s not with us, not least because she would be an endless source of agenda items!  It’s our loss and mine.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Remembering Jeannette Moisan

Jeannette Moisan's 400 Children

For Randy Moisan, 20 years on the bus are over

I’m doing something different on this blog.  I have a foster brother who drove school buses for the city for 21 years.  He wrote a great letter to the Gazette last spring, reflecting on his years with the city.  Since the Gazette doesn’t post letters online, I want Randy to have his moment on my blog so I have “volunteered” him to guest post:

To the editor:
Where do I start? Oh yeah, how about at the beginning. On March 21, 1988 I was hired by Jim Parisian to drive the field trip/athletic bus for the city of Salem’s School Department. Little did I know at that time how long and how much I would enjoy this job. This was supposed to be a temporary job until I found a “real one.

The first week on the job started with a literal bang. The leased bus I was assigned to drive was torched overnight and damaged the rear of the high school. I couldn’t believe when I was shown what remained of the bus: The front end was completely gone and the tires were burnt so much that there were only rims left. What a way to start off a job, but I stuck with it.

I learned how to get to the sporting fields by Salem’s greatest coaches, Ken Perrone and Al Giardi, and even got lost taking Charlie Maihos’ softball team over to Lynn Classical. I started out being the driver that followed everyone to eventually being the driver everyone looked to for directions.

I drove in and out of Boston all the time and loved it. I watched the Big Dig happen all around me and only regretted coming back in September every year because so many changes happened over the summer months and I had to learn the new routes around Boston.

I really loved driving the kids of Salem and was considered the cool bus driver because I never stayed on the bus — I would join them on field trips, helping teachers chaperone or watching the games. I even got to sit on the parquet floor at the old Boston Garden with. our basketball team during a championship game. I was there when Jeff Juden was being scouted and I remember the Saugus game, watching the radar gun, seeing him throw over 90 mph. I still have the bail he signed for me after he got recruited to the Houston Astros.

There was only one school year that was really
tough on me. That was when Salem High’s class of
2000 were seniors. They were in kindergarten when
I started driving a bus and I watched them grow up,
even though I hadn’t changed a bit, or so I thought.

I loved saying “good morning” to every kid on my bus as they got on and “have a good day” when they were leaving. I even let them know they were missed when they were out sick. I still have many of the gifts given to me over the years by the children and their parents.

I will miss being seen in a store and being run up to or pointed at and hearing the kids say, “that’s my bus driver.” How many looks did I get when some of those special angels would run up to me and give me a hug to say hi in a store and I would never return it, but say “I don’t do hugs,” showing that it was the child and not me initiating it. Those were the tough parts of the job, because I knew that some of those kids really needed a hug back.

These are just some of the things I remember fondly about being a bus driver. I could go on and on about the kids I drove, but sadly all things must come to an end. For personal reasons I resigned my position on April 11, 2008 so for the first time in 20 years and 21 days, the city of Salem does not have everyone’s favorite bus driver at the wheel of a bus. I will cherish all of those years driving Salem’s children.

To the Salem School Department and all of my bus driver friends, thanks for all of the great memories. To the parents of all of the children I drove over these 20 years, I thank you, for the greatest gift: getting to drive your children.
Randy Moisan
Dunlap Street, Salem

Ironically, the year Randy was hired, I got a temp job as a bus monitor for a week where I got to ride around in one of our special-ed vans with Jan, one of Randy’s fellow drivers.  Even though it really wasn’t my kind of work, it was an interesting job and I really enjoyed working with Jan.  Sadly, Jan succumbed to cancer shortly after my time on the bus, so I never got to tell her personally.

The past nine months have been very difficult for Randy and I as we deal with some very personal and emotional issues.  But one thing is clear from his letter:  He loved Salem.  My deep cynicism makes it impossible for me to appreciate this fact, but there it is.

This school year is different without Randy, no doubt.

Remembering Jeannette Moisan

I meant to write this on Mother's Day, but my late mom's birthday was May 25th.  She would have been 94 years old today.  My one-year blog anniversary also passed a few weeks ago, but it's only appropriate to mention it now.

I've written about my mom several times before, in Poverty, the disabled and personal responsibility, and The Salem Commission on Disabilities.  She died in Salem Hospital on the early morning of February 28th, 1994. 

I was devastated.  She was my dearest friend.  I miss her fiercely. 

Recently, I went through some old newspaper clippings, intending to scan them into the computer (I just got a new Epson scanner), and found an article about my mom that I'd been looking for for years.  I won't reproduce the whole thing (written 19 years ago, it's nowhere on line) but just the parts about Mom.  North Shore Sunday:

A Bitter Pill

Senior Citizens Find Their Access to Medications Limited Both Physically And Financially

By Mark Vogler

July 9^th, 1989

Jeannette Moisan navigates across the sidewalk in her motorized wheelchair, checking the pavement for ruts or bumps that might jar the insides of her sensitive body. She keeps her eyes peeled for wayward motorists as she approaches the pedestrian crosswalk.

Even on a hot summer day, a roll through the streets of downtown Salem is an enjoyable journey for Moisan, who lost her ability to walk about nine years ago when she began suffering the pains of rheumatoid arthritis, a crippling disease that attacks the joints and leaves her arms and legs puffy.

A seven minute wheelchair ride might seem like a lot of trouble for a 75 year-old handicapped woman to put herself through just for the sake of buying medication from the local drug store. In addition to the condition, which causes her body to swell up so badly she can’t bend her fingers, she has heart problems and high blood pressure. She says she also suffers from angina, a disease of the throat or chest which is marked by painful choking spasms.

The CVS Pharmacy on Essex Street at Salem’s pedestrian mall, where she prefers to shop, could just as easily deliver drugs to her home. But the fiercely independent woman on wheels would rather do things her way.

“I love going out and looking around the stores just seeing what I need, like everyone else,” says Moisan, whose smiling face hides any sign of pain as she drives herself around town like a kid on a go-cart.

“I want to act as if I’m not sick, I can’t afford to have a car. So, this is my pleasure car. This is my good time,” she says.

But on any given day, Moisan’s pleasure trip can turn into a bittersweet experience, since her wheelchair can’t fit through the store entrance unless the two double doors are held store entrance unless the two doubled doors are held wide open for her. Sometimes it's a 15 to 20 minute wait. Sometimes no­body's available or willing to hold the doors open.

"I've gone to the drug store a couple of times, but had to turn around and come back because I couldn't get in. Sometimes, peo­ple just don't want to help and they just pass you by," says Moi­san, who personally opened the doors of her own home to more than 400 children during her life­time — abandoned children who lived with her while she worked for the state or various private charitable organizations as a fos­ter parent.

Opening the doors of North Shore pharmacies so they are ac­cessible to all wheelchaired cus­tomers has become Moisan's lat­est mission in life.

And, a photo:

Mom is the white-haired lady in the scooter.  Two passers-by helped her get into the CVS on Essex St. downtown.

Things are better at that particular CVS--it was remodeled a few years after her death;  it, and almost all other CVS stores in the area have automatic doors, as does Walgreens.

However, there are still many other  establishments that aren't accessible.  My optician--Banville Optical, on Lafayette St., the only optician in downtown Salem proper--is not accessible via wheelchair.  (One disabled resident, a regular attendee of our commission meetings, has filed a complaint with the state Architectural Access Board.  We wish her luck.)

What my mom did for me and the 400 other children in her care is unsurpassable.  She looms very large in my life.  The North Shore Sunday reporter called her "feisty".  She was that and then some.  She is of a generation in Salem that is going away.

I don't expect to be as feisty or as good as she was.

Lenny O'Leary is no longer with us

Lenny, Mike and Leo, originally uploaded by dmoisan.

My friend Leo Jodoin emailed me Friday night: Long-time councilor Leonard F. O'Leary passed away. I was never a consituent of Lenny's, as my family moved out of Gallows Hill when Frances Grace was still councilor, but he and I and our mutual friend Leo Jodoin, worked together on Leo's Salem Senior Recognition Days.

The photo above shows Lenny, my ward councilor and Commission liason Mike Sosnowski and Leo, together at last year's Recognition Days ceremony. We had wanted Lenny to be the master of ceremonies in 2007 as he had been for the past two years of the event, but he had been sick that day.

Lenny was a frequent guest on Salem Now and a very familiar presence at SATV.

I'm normally deeply cynical about local politics, but we and Salem will really miss Lenny. Many of the really influential old-timers in Salem that remember life before condos, history as property values, and "hip, cool, dynamic residents", the truly living history, are beginning to pass from us.

We will come to regret their passing bitterly, as in many ways Lenny and others of his generation were the best of Salem, in ways I don't expect my generation or even the one before it, to ever match.

Update: The 2008 Salem Senior Recognition Days is dedicated to Lenny.