THE WELL DRESSED OLIVE
A Trip Back in Time and Dreams Fulfilled
by
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“The young ball player helped the old man remind himself as a 12 year old barefoot boy running thru the well-worn path in the woods with his 10 year old sister in hot pursuit playing Hide-Go-Seek. They had done this so many times clearing a trail crushing the grasses and moving the sand that they needed no road map to follow through the woods. Both were sweating profusely from the summer heat with their bodies crusting with salt and dust kicked up by their churning feet collecting on their skin and clothes.” “Shoes in our family were off the summer and new sneakers were on only at the start of the next new school year. At least this was for my sister and I due to the lack of money that allowed only one pair per year per child. We would have to travel in Dad’s old Willys pickup truck sitting in the back bed bouncing about all the way for miles to the farmers market in Woodstown, NJ. Upon arrival, we were greeted with the distinct creature smells of the cattle and carnival like sounds of country music and loud crowds milling about looking a bargain at every turn.” “At the shoe vendor we would dig thru piles of left over shoes for our choice and the right price. We had to be cautious about mismatched shoes trying to avoid the repeat of last time when Mom had bought me two left footed white buck shoes that I wore at my first Holy Communion. The ill-fitting white suit that was a hand-me-down from my older brother was over-sized but my feet were killing me for no obvious reason. At home later in the day I took them off and told Mom about the error. Her unexpected response was ‘what do you want for only a dollar!’ Thanks, Mom!” “Well, those leftover sneakers had to last longer than the natural life of the purchase. Spring time at school was tough as the holes would appear and the sneakers would fall apart and the classmates’ laughter would start up again along with the teasing. It was like a rite of spring. And, again another school yard fight to protect my dignity and self respect. And, another ‘stay after school’ penalty by the teacher with the late arrival at home which I dreaded the most!”
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About the Book
The story is a fictionalized semi-autobiographical effort done in the first person narrative starting in Medias Res with flashbacks that reveal a very dysfunctional family life and the personal struggles and sacrifices required to survive there and achieve what no one else in the family could do. The negative effects of parental alcoholism, mental and physical abuse, and poverty and a very long road of education chosen for its difficulty as a challenge and an assured exit from his early years. After a life long experience in Medicine, the only assurance we have is our beginning and our end. We can’t chose our family at birth but we adapt as best we can. We survive by finding a place of peace and chose those we associate with to help us through the rough patches. Some have to escape their past for a better future and create plans as to how to do this. We reach crossroads and have to chose what path we are to follow. Some decisions may be easy but others require sacrifices that are very personal and cannot be undone. In the final analysis, can we say it was worth it all? Some might say that we should appreciate all that we are blessed with and there are really no “re-do’s” in life. But the one assurance we have is that there will be peace for all of us in the end.
About the Author
John M. Noldan was born in Chester, Pa and raised dirt poor in the farming districts of Southern New Jersey. Born into conflict at home but flourished in school nurtured by teachers and schoolmates. When graduating high school in 1962, he proudly became the first one on all sides of his family to do so since they entered the US in 1905. After 53 years as an active licensed practitioner of Medicine, he retired but not his desire to write. This novel is fictionalized and semi-autobiographical but ideas surface each day to help put into words for the reader to be able to visualize and feel what the everyman does as he matures. So common yet unique of an experience that we all identify with it in some way.