After the war was over, my brother Dick, Mom and I moved out of Aunt Elizabeth’s and Aunt Frances’s houses and into our own rented house on Linwood Place in East Orange. Grandma joined us there; I think she had been staying with Aunt Mabel.
With the troops coming home, there was a national housing shortage, and my mother decided to bring in some extra money by taking in roomers. They would have the large bedroom at the front of the house, and share the single bathroom with us.
Our first roomers were the Turners, a pleasant couple in their thirties. I was unaware of their nighttime activities because my room was at the far end of the house, but apparently their lovemaking was so loud and frequent that my mother and grandmother came to doubt that they were married. The Turners were asked to leave, whether because of the noise or the not-being-married I don’t know.
Our next roomers were two girls in their early twenties, blond Charlotte and exotic Betty K. They formed a close friendship with my brother, then about 17, which ended when the three were caught by my grandmother “rolling around” on the double bed. There were no further roomers.
As you might guess, the shared bathroom was often in use when I got up in the morning to get ready for school . An empty milk bottle was kept on the top cellar step for when I couldn’t wait. Someone, I assume my mom, emptied and rinsed it later.
I once read a science fiction story about a town where there was a mysterious death-by-poisoning almost every day. The police were unable to determine how the victims ingested the poison. A mad scientist had developed a poison so strong that it remained effective no matter how much it was diluted. Method of delivery? One drop in an empty milk bottle. After the bottle was picked up and returned to the dairy to be washed and refilled, enough poison remained to take another life. Do you see where I’m going with this? After reading that story, I imagined tiny amounts of my childhood pee distributed to milk drinkers across Essex County and beyond.
