Connecticut to New York

October 12

Erev Sukkot

Throughout this trip we have visited many places and done many things that were on my so-called "bucket list." Razelle hardly ever mentioned things that she would have considered bucket-list items. During the past two days we did a number of things in Connecticut that could be labeled as such, but the one thing Razelle very passionately wanted to make sure we did while in Connecticut was take the Ferry from Bridgeport, CT to Port Jefferson, Long Island, NY. We made a dry run to the terminal two days ago so we'd know where it is and to find out about tickets. This morning we awoke before dawn so we could pull this off. I was also eager to experience this, so we both got ready for the day with the same eager anticipation. An added bonus to taking the ferry was that this part of the distance we would travel today would not be on the van's odometer. I was mindful of how close we were getting to the obligatory oil change and I was hoping not to have to do this before turning in the van two day from now (October 14th)

We decided to take the 7:30 AM ferry so we wouldn't have competition for space on board. We were told to arrive half an hour early, which meant leaving Debby and Zvika's in the dark around 6:30 AM. It was genuinely cold here at that hour. By the time we lined up at the dock dawn was breaking in shades of pewter grey, it was so heavily overcast. The smell of sea air and the sight of gliding gulls made our excitement palpable.

The chain was dropped and we were motioned to drive aboard. My van was guided into the forward-most position in the parking bay, meaning we'd be first off once we had gained the opposite shore.

The ticket window was in the enclosed passenger area. Large windows enabled us to see out while comfortably seated on benches provided for our convenience. Above the ticket window was a banner with the catchy slogan: "Break the Sound Barrier". We were about to cross Long Island Sound under that banner.

During the ferry ride Razelle found an interesting gentleman to talk with. He was a builder from Bridgeport with large construction projects to oversee on Long Island; this ferry was his daily commute to and from work. While they talked I explored the ferry. Razelle stayed put because the motion of the rocking vessel was too much for her leg. I went up to the open-air top deck, where I was exposed to the elements. The strongly whipping wind was cold enough to make my eyes water and numb my cheeks; the choppy water and ominous grey sky added to the nautical feel. The motion of the deck made walking a strait line a challenge. Only one other person was crazy enough to be on that deck along with me. Eventually, the wind chill got to be too much and I rejoined Razelle and bought both of us hot cocoa in paper cups.

Port Jefferson, NY was a pleasant surprise. I'd never been east of Ronkonkoma on Long Island before. This place looked like a New England seaport, rather than an Empire State community. We drove the van off the ferry and headed through this quaint port directly south across Long Island to get onto the Sunrise Highway near Patchogue, NY. Driving west on this Highway was a pleasure – until we reached Lindenhurst, NY. On-off ramps were replaced by traffic lights and traffic became heavy. It was stop and go the rest of the way into Baldwin, NY. The advantage of not taking the Long Island Expressway seemed lost by this point; nothing could be done about it now, so we just crawled with the flow.

We had a destination in Oceanside we wanted to reach before we stopped at Monte and Mindy's. Our GPS had us on a course that would take us directly there, but on a sudden whim, I broke off from this course and drove past Monte's house, to show Razelle where it is. At the precise moment we were passing it, my phone rang. It was Monte. He called because he needed to go to a meeting and needed to leave a key with us. I wheeled around the next block and greeted Monte in the driveway. He handed me the key. It was too perfect an occurrence to be coincidental. Monte and I have been telepathic before. Razelle was stunned that we'd done it again.

We continued on our way to Simcha Boutique, in Oceanside to keep our appointment with the proprietor. Razelle wanted to buy more handcrafted head-coverings to wear in the synagogue, made by this woman, like the ones I'd purchased for her via the Internet in the past. We had thought this boutique would be just around the corner but it was two miles away and involved a number of maneuvers to get there; however, my GPS was up to the task. After admiring her work and making our purchases, Razelle gave this women one of our souvenir magnets. It was important to reach this boutique as early as we had because the holiday of Sukkot would start at sundown, and the proprietor had to travel yet, to be with her family.

We then made our way to a CVS pharmacy I knew of at a strip mall at Atlantic Avenue and Long Beach Road in Oceanside, not far from Monte and Mindy's. We turned in another roll of film that needed to be developed. While we waited for processing, we wondered in and out of some of the shops. Again, no luck with the "talking book" quest I was on for Noga. An SUV, parked beside our van at this strip mall, had a bumper sticker on it advertising the Gilbert & Sullivan Light Opera Company of Long Island. Some day we have to contact this company. The owner of this vehicle would have had a lot in common with us, I surmised. At the end of an hour I went back into the CVS and got our developed pictures.

We drove to Monte and Mindy's house and parked the van – for perhaps the last time – on the side street beside their house. This is our final address in the United States. We've driven 13,500 miles to get here. Early on I wouldn't have wagered that the van would make it this far. But it certainly has.

We used the key and let ourselves in and sank into the living room furniture to decompress from our travels. Missy the beagle greeted us. She remembered me. She asked me to let her out into the back yard. I double-checked that the back gate was secure so she wouldn't leave the confines of the back yard and I saw that there was a Sukkah out there! Monte had put one together for this Feast of Tabernacles (Sukkot).

Members of the family began to arrive soon. Ilyssa arrived and greeted us warmly, Mindy arrived with a cheery welcome, and, closer to meal time, Monte come home from his business appointment and, through the fatigue behind his eyes, smiled broadly and shared in the warmth of this family moment.

While dinner was being prepared I set to work bringing in items from the van, one trip after another, after another. Missy had to be kept behind the gate so I needed to be mindful each time I went through it to keep it secure against a beagle breakout. Some of these items ended up in a cluster in the front hall and some in a gathering heap next to the fireplace. Once I knew what our sleeping arrangements were to be (the entire basement suite was ours) I began dragging more stuff down the stairs to arrange them around the furniture down there. We had much work ahead of us for the next leg of our around-the-world journey – onward to London! – and the scope of this task was overwhelming at this stage. We had expanded the volume of our possessions beyond what the luggage and the airlines would allow and the task at hand would take a lot of thinking. If we used our time prudently we would be properly packed by departure time four calendar days from now. If it didn't all fit I would need to know soon enough to organize boxes and masking tape so we could send the excess baggage that way – or not, if it would cost less or be more efficient to take it all on the plane with us and pay extra baggage fees. It was too soon to answer that question. I had to do some consolidating and some research before I could say.

We gathered around the dinner table for the festival meal and the doorbell rang and one more person joined us at the table. Ilyssa introduced us to her boyfriend Mike. We did the blessings over the wine and bread for this holiday and, while we ate, conversation was lively; there was so much to relate all around. After the meal Mike and Ilyssa went out together and we all settled down for a quiet evening. Each of us had something to do.

Eventually, I had to stop sorting through our stuff. Tomorrow would be another day. It was time to get some sleep.

Connecticut day 1

October 11

We awoke at Debby and Zvika's, totally refreshed from a good night's sleep. Today was going to be dedicated to anything Razelle desired. Our visit here to her native environs was meant to be as significant as we could make it for her. I had my trip down memory lane while we were in Orlando, FL, now it was Razelle's turn. But first, a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese from our own inventory.

Leaving Debby and Zvika's subdivision of Trumbull, CT led us along Twin Brooks Drive through a lovely municipal park. The clear morning sunlight accented the colors of the autumn leaves against the crystal blue sky and reflected their hues off the still waters of the brook so invitingly that driving through this park without capturing this scene for posterity would have been a virtual sin. I framed several images with my digital camera and snapped the virtual shutter.

We came to a covered bridge as we exited the park. I pulled into the driveway of an auto repair shop and jumped out to take pictures of Razelle posing with this iconic New England bridge and the autumn colors behind it. A woman came out of the shop and asked, "Can I help you?" I said, "No thanks, I can do this by myself," and continued to aim my camera at Razelle and the bridge. She then said, "You can't park here." I answered, "I don't plan to park here. I'm just going to take a few pictures and then drive off." It wasn't until much later that it dawned on me what she was really trying to say without actually saying it. This is what I call a "Rip-van Winkle moment." Being away as long as I have been, I find myself missing the subtleties of speech and behavior that others who have lived here all along would not miss. This has happened over and over again as I travel through this, my native land.

Near the entrance ramp onto the Parkway, Razelle saw a sign that said "Bridgeport" with an arrow pointing the way. She had to take a picture of this sign to remind herself that she had been here. And I had to take a picture of her taking this picture.

We drove to the Jewish Cemetery off Black Rock Turnpike in Fairfield where Razelle's parents are buried. But before we went in we made three stops along Black Rock Turnpike, all of them in the short distance between Tunxis Hill Road and Stillson Road: the ATM machine at Patriot National Bank where we withdrew another $250 in cash; the CVS where we finally dropped off the film Razelle has been trying to get developed and the Katona Corner Postal Unit to mail our Washington Metrorail passes back to Ralph. This postal unit was very well hidden and it took a lot of help from passersby to zero in on it.

Then we went to the cemetery and straight to the graves of Ruth and Milton, Razelle and Ralph's parents. This was Razelle's first opportunity to visit her mother's grave since she was interred here two years ago in my presence. Razelle took out the pages Ralph had prepared for her, contain prayers traditionally said at graveside, and prayed from them while I split the ball of ice we had carried all this way across America to place half of it on each of their graves (as I had done on my father's grave when we were in Ohio). These represented the spiritual place we had visited in Wyoming (the Medicine Wheel) where we had said the mourner's prayer (Kaddish) for each of our fathers around the anniversary of their respective deaths.

Many more of Razelle's relatives are buried in the plots that surround her parents' graves. Razelle related to me who had been whom. One more grave of importance eluded Razelle. We called Ralph on my cell phone and he directed us to the grave of Razelle's dear childhood friend Frances, who had died suddenly of leukemia when they were college age. I left Razelle to her thoughts while she prayed at this grave, but remained nearby.

After a while we got back into the van and began our tour of landmarks that had been important places in Razelle life. We stopped to gaze at the home in Bridgeport where her Aunt Hilda and Uncle Ernie had lived, then we drove up to the Sheridan School that Razelle had attended during her elementary school years. School buses were parked across the street waiting for the imminent ringing of the bell.

Razelle then guided us to the house beside Lake Forest Reservoir where she had lived with her father and mother and brother in earlier days. So much of what her father had wrought with his own hands to landscape the property still remained in place. Razelle paused on the steps leading into the lake and gazed pensively over their waters. She would have liked to have gone into the house and looked around, but the current occupant didn't offer to let her do that when he answered the door and Razelle didn't ask. We moved on.

Our next destination was Joan's home in Woodbridge, CT. Joan had been friends with Razelle and Frances; and Joan had been at our wedding. Razelle and I had a wonderful visit with Joan on the back porch of her home in a forested setting. Autumn in New England, slices of cheese and fruit, and nostalgic reminiscences – who could have ask for a more pleasant way to catch up with friends?

When Joan's husband Harold came home from work, we followed them in our van to a nearby shopping plaza in Milford, CT. Harold and I looked for the "talking book" Maayan wanted for Noga, but there was no such thing in the toy store there. Razelle and Joan went looking for overalls for Noga at the Oshkosh Store. They had better luck.

We took the Merritt Parkway back to Fairfield and, before exiting, entered a rest stop. This has been here for as long as Razelle can remember, but she had never in her life stopped here before. There's a first time for everything. We returned to the CVS in Fairfield to retrieve the now-developed pictures then drove to Debbie and Zvika's to leave the van.

Debbie drove us in her son Gabe's car (so she informed us) to the Chinese Restaurant she had picked out for our postponed reunion with her mother (Razelle's Aunt Mila) and now with her sister (Razelle's first cousin) Vicky as well; they arrived shortly after we did (Zvika was already waiting for us when we got there). Aunt Mila has been doubly blessed with longevity and acuity of mind and spirit. We were duly impressed with her wit. It has been a long time since Razelle and Mila and Vicky have all been in the same place. They had a lot to catch up on during this meal. The menu here was built upon the supposition that everyone around the table would pick and choose from a set of main dishes placed in the middle of the table. It was hard for us all to decide which dishes we wanted these to be so Debby took a poll then decided for all of us.

After the meal Vicky drove away with Aunt Mila and we rode with Debby through the dark in a light rain that bejeweled the windshield between intermittent swipes of the wipers. The effect was pleasingly hypnotizing (particularly since I had the luxury of being a passenger and not the driver, for a change). We made light conversation about our kids and their achievements; interesting how quickly our little ones have come of age and now have lives of their own. When we arrived at Debby and Zvika's home we got ready for bed, our last night in Connecticut. We plan to get an early start tomorrow.

New Jersey through New York to Massachusetts and Connecticut

October 10

I woke up this morning ahead of everyone else in the house. I took a shower and noticed that my shampoo was missing; it had been left behind at the Rabbi's house in Virginia because I hadn't taken the time to search for it when we left there before sunrise. Oh well.

I checked my email and messages on Facebook this morning. Because our remaining visits with friends and relatives are so closely interwoven, and because there isn't time left here in the Northeastern US to reschedule anything, it is important that I stay current with these now. I found email Maayan had just sent, requesting that we try to buy a cosmetic product for her here in the States before we return home. We must be getting close to the end of our journey around the world if Maayan is now sending us last-minute requests. She also asked for a talking book that speaks English, so Noga can hear English while she looks at the pictures. Searching the Internet I found that Macy's carries the specific line of cosmetics Maayan asked for. Searching further, I found a Macy's en route, in West Nyack, NY. The scavenger hunt for requested gifts was on.

Mark and Evelyn drove us in their car to a diner near their home they particularly like, where we had breakfast before we hit the road. It was a nice send off from a very nice visit with these cousins.

Where we slept last night is less than 10 miles from the endpoint of our journey in this van; Adventures on Wheels in North Middletown, NJ is where we are scheduled to drop it off in four more days – so near after coming so far. And yet, we still have about 800 miles left before we are due to change the oil, according to our rental agreement and maybe 500 miles still to cover before we finish connecting all the remaining dots we have promised to connect before this road trip in the van comes to an end – as I said, in only four more days (audible sigh). Yesterday's traffic taught me a valuable lesson: Don't be stupid! Take the toll roads! Being that today is Columbus Day in the United States, a lot of people would be on the roads during this extended weekend.

We took the Garden State Parkway all the way into the state of New York, our 36th state. Toll booths on this Parkway are different from the ones we had encountered on the bridges we paid to cross earlier in our trip. These booths require fistfuls of coins, which are tossed into a basket to get a green light so you can proceed (there is no barrier, just a camera to keep you honest). The first toll plaza we came to sent Razelle into a panic. We had been hoarding quarters for most of our trip so we could use them in washing machines and dryers as needed. But just yesterday, Razelle turned her cache of quarters into paper bills because she thought we wouldn't need them any more, now that we were at the end of our travels. Fortunately, I still had about $10's worth of quarters left in the driver's elbow-rest on my door of the van. These were more than enough for the three toll plazas we had to pass through before we reached the New York State Thruway (not a spelling error) and turned in the direction of the Tappan Zee Bridge. Before we crossed the Hudson River on this bridge, we visited a humongous shopping mall, called the Palisades Center Mall, in West Nyack, NY.

The Palisades Center Mall is the largest mall we'd seen on this trip! It is four stories high and packed with shops of every kind. You need to refer to maps at the elevator and escalator points just to keep track of where you are and where the stores are you want to reach. We entered the mall near where we'd parked the van; the Macy's store I wanted to get to was too far away at the opposite end of this vast building for Razelle to walk there with me. She stayed put and I sallied forth to get what Maayan asked for. They had exactly what she wanted. I sent her a message while I stood there with the clerk to ask how many she wanted and promptly got her answer. Isn't it amazing what can be done with gizmos and gadgets nowadays?

Leaving the mall, we crossed the Hudson River on the Tappan Zee Bridge. The toll is collected after you have reached the other side, unlike what we'd seen elsewhere. I continued driving until we came to Interstate 95. I pointed out to Razelle that we had just entered Connecticut, or 37th state, to which she replied, "Oh no, I didn't want to be here!" She was upset that we were not on the Merritt Parkway (not upset that we were in Connecticut). I reprogrammed the GPS to guide us there. This led us back into Port Chester, NY, where we stopped for tuna sandwiches for Razelle at a convenience store/pit stop. Then we re-entered Connecticut and drove east on the Merritt Parkway. Razelle was now very happy. The Merritt Parkway is such a breathtakingly beautiful way to get to Bridgeport-Fairfield, CT. As soon as we were on it, Razelle had flashes of nostalgia for all the times she had lived in Connecticut and traveled this road.

Our timing couldn't have been better. The trees were changing color here in New England this fine October day. Red and yellow and orange hues greeted our eyes wherever we gazed, all the way to the horizon and back again. We didn't want to miss the experience of seeing fall foliage during our trip around the world and here we were, immersed in picture-postcard scenery that thrilled us at the sight of it.

We exited the Merritt Parkway onto Stratfield Road in Fairfield, CT and took it directly to Ahavath Achim, the synagogue where Razelle and I were married. We met someone there who remembered Razelle's mother and he called the young rabbi we'd corresponded with, who promptly arrived to greet us.

We searched the memorial plaques together and found the ones with Razelle's relatives' names on them – most importantly, the one bearing her father's name.

Our next stop was in front of the home on Melville Avenue where Razelle had last lived before immigrating to Israel, and where I had stayed during visits with her mother Ruth while she still lived there. Lots of memories! Particularly important to Razelle was the view of the stream and dam and duck pond behind this home.

I walked around back and took several snapshots for Razelle while she stayed with the van, then I ran into a former neighbor of Razelle's mother, who was excited to meet us. He took us to his door and called his wife out. She was thrilled to tears to be able to see Razelle again. She remembered seeing me at Ruth's funeral two year ago. Our next stop was to be the cemetery where Razelle's parents are buried, but our visit with these neighbors was too precious to tear ourselves away. The cemetery visit will wait until tomorrow. We chatted with these nice people for as long as we could afford to, then got into the van and drove to our next rendezvous.

My first cousin Brenda had lived in North Carolina and I wanted to visit her there while we were down that way. But her family was recently transplanted to Boston just before we started this trip, so that wasn't going to happen. For quite a while now we have been corresponding and trying to coordinate a rendezvous with Brenda and Stewart somewhere during our journey. The only opportunity left was to meet them half way between Boston, MA and Fairfield, CT today, Columbus Day, because they and the kids had the day off to travel. That halfway point was Springfield, MA. The time we had arranged was perfect for supper and the restaurant we chose was the Olive Garden. Having set my GPS to get us there, I knew how much travel time it entailed and that is why we broke off our visit with these neighbors when we finally did. We drove back to the Merritt Parkway and headed through Hartford, CT rush hour traffic into Massachusetts, our 38th and final state of this trip. We reached our destination in Springfield with 5 comfortable minutes to spare. This far north we expected the fall colors to be even more dramatic than they were in Connecticut, but they weren't. Why that was so is a mystery to me.

I was anticipating that my cousins would arrive in their oversized recreational vehicle so I kept a lookout for one to pull into the parking lot. I know how much they love traveling in their RV and I'd heard so much about it; but they arrived in a less ostentatious vehicle and walked up behind us to greet us before we were aware they had arrived. They all went into the Olive Garden together, except me. There is a Walgreens across the traffic light from the Olive Garden and Razelle sent me over there quickly with her film to have it developed while they ordered. Razelle asked that the photos be developed with a matt finish, but Walgreens could only develop them with a glossy finish. I called Razelle's phone but she didn't answer so I brought the undeveloped film back to her. She was not pleased.

Brenda and Stewart have two kids. I had met Jeremy when he was very small. He's grown so much since. This was my first opportunity to meet Heather. I enjoyed watching the interactions among them all while we talked and ate. Brenda has been following my blog and knew everything I'd written so far. Razelle, Brenda, Stewart and I talked about the art of parenting. We also talked about mutual travel experiences; we had Walmart camping in common, for example. Unfortunately, our family reunion could only last so long, but it was certainly worth the effort.

While I was eating the food I had ordered, which was nothing more than a plateful of succulent iceberg lettuce with blue-cheese dressing, a standard favorite of mine, I bit into something and felt a crunch. I ran my tongue over the teeth on the left side of my mouth and discovered a sharp edge on a tooth that had not been that way before. What is it with me and dental disasters?! Of all the hazards of traveling far from home, I've made it this far without mishap, [knock on wood]. But in the dental department I haven't been able to get a break! There was no pain so I don't know what the damage will turn out to be. I just have to hold my breath and hope I can get back to my dentist before this turns into something urgent.

We all went out to the parking lot and said our goodbyes. We headed in opposite directions, they toward Boston and we toward Trumbull, CT, where Razelle's first cousin Debbie lives, and where we will spend the night. We re-entered Connecticut and received a call from Debbie almost at the same moment. "Where are you guys?" Debbie wanted to know; "We've been waiting for your arrival so we can all go out to eat. Aunt Mila was hoping to greet you, but she can't wait any longer." Apparently some wires had gotten crossed. We couldn't be everywhere at once and we didn't know about this miscommunication until Debbie called. This was what our last days in the United States were turning into. We had masterfully juggled all the balls we had in the air, but one of them had just fallen. We apologized to Debbie and she said that the dinner date with Aunt Mila would have to be rescheduled, without fail, for tomorrow.

The ride back to Trumbull was hard on me. The bright lights of oncoming traffic on the un-illuminated Parkway gave me a lot of grief. But we made it safely, and with a little guidance on the phone and with flashing of porch lights when we were not certain which house was the right one, we pulled into Debbie and Zvika's driveway and turned off the motor. We had covered a lot of territory this day. We spent some quality time talking with Debbie and Zvika before the bed beckoned. Razelle and I found the crisp cool night air inviting and argued half-heartedly with Debbie about sleeping in the van once more, but Debbie prevailed and we slept on comfortable beds in their home instead.