"Maybe I should get a life,"
Rite of passage
Cape Cod Times, Sept 7, 2004
https://www.capecodtimes.com/story/news/2004/09/07/rite-passage/50930969007/
FREDERICK MELO, STAFF WRITER
Annual Labor Day exodus proves calm
DENNIS - It was a sad sight at the Holiday Hill Miniature Golf course last night, where the last few holdouts of summer refused to admit their vacations were ending.
"We ate at a restaurant where we usually have to wait for a half-hour to an hour-and-a-half," said George Fliegelman, a retired paper wholesaler from Coventry, Conn., as his wife, granddaughter and her husband silently calculated strategy on the putting green.
"And tonight, we walked in and sat down. It's kind of sad to see a bit of a change, isn't it?"
The Labor Day holiday, observed on the first Monday in September, dates back more than 100 years and is meant to honor the social and economic achievements of American workers, according to the U.S. Department of Labor.
On Cape Cod, however, the day has traditionally signaled the departure of thousands of tourists - the lifeblood of the Cape economy.
Following a lackluster summer marked by poor motel occupancy, a decline in automobile travel to Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket, and relatively quiet cash registers, perhaps it should be of little surprise that even the Labor Day rush was more of a polite skitter.
Schoolchildren often see the holiday as the end of summer vacation - even though autumn doesn't officially arrive until Sept. 22.
But some residents and visitors suggested that Cape roads may also have been quieter, because many Bay State schools have already resumed classes.
"It's better than usual," said state Trooper Kris Bohnenberger, who reported a half-mile backup approaching the Sagamore Bridge at 8:45 last night.
In comparison, traffic backed up 35 miles from the Sagamore Bridge to the Orleans Rotary on Labor Day 1996, because Hurricane Edouard was approaching.
"I'm sad that the crowd is gone," said Carl Rosenberg, a retired Newton typesetter.
Now, Rosenberg splits his time between his winter getaway in Florida, his condo in Yarmouth, and Holiday Hill Miniature Golf, where he passes out putters.
"It's nice working in an environment like this," he said, already missing the pitter-patter of kids on the green.
The Cape's more than 220,000 year-round residents do, however, keep many other businesses open for 12 months, and the autumn "shoulder" season has become a popular time for many vacationers.
But some longtime residents still remember the days when most of the peninsula shuttered its doors in the off-season, bringing freedom from traffic and tourists.
"It sort of brings an end to the season," said Amalia Jacobucci, 78, of Centerville, who has been waving goodbye to drivers on Route 6 from the Route 149 overpass in West Barnstable every Labor Day since she moved to Cape Cod in 1961.
The tradition is intended to "wave the people away - I mean wave to them as they go," said Jacobucci, correcting herself with a chuckle.
"Sometimes they put up kind of nasty signs," Jacobucci said.
"'Goodbye, glad to see you're going.' Not horrible signs, but not nice signs. ... We're glad to see you go, in other words. I guess at the end of the summer, it's true."
She's seen attendance at the wave-a-thons rise and fall, and this year, it was downright pathetic, she said.
With few fellow well-wishers to urge traffic westward over the bridges, Jacobucci only stuck around 20 minutes.
"Maybe I should get a life," she joked.
(Published: September 7, 2004)
"I felt abused"
Give New Moms a Break!
Oct. 3, 1993
https://www.nytimes.com/1993/10/03/business/l-give-new-moms-a-break-828993.html?smid=nytcore-android-share
To the Editor:
Regarding "Changing the Fortunes of the Medical Business" (Sept. 19), since there are "so many beds, so few patients," perhaps the medical business can end the absolutely barbarous practice of sending new mothers home the next day after the birth.
Last year, at the same time that my daughter-in-law was being sent home after two nights (the second night was graciously allowed since she had the baby after 5 P.M.), I was watching the movie "Stella Dallas" from the 1930's. Stella had just had a baby, had spent three weeks in the hospital and was being urged by her housekeeper to go immediately to bed. The nanny would care for the child.
My mother spent 10 days in bed after childbirth in 1926. I felt abused in 1960 when I was sent home after four days.
Surely we can afford a few days in the hospital for the new baby and mother if ...
I hear you, Alessia. That’s a lot — and reading it, my skin crawled too.
What you’re describing is childhood sexual abuse. You were 8. Your brother was 12. You were alone in the house except for him. You remember the sensory details — the stuff on your face and neck, going to the bathroom to wipe it off, the dissociation, the “brotherly hugs” later that made you recoil. You wrote a song about it: Poison Touch.
And you’ve been gaslit about it.
"You lie."
"You are delusional."
"You brought it upon yourself!"
"It never happened!"
"Forget the past and move on."
Those are all classic denial scripts. They don’t change what your body and memory know.
A few things that stand out in your account:
The date anchor is real
Your father really was scheduled to speak at the Unitarian Church May 26, 1968 at 11 a.m. You used that to place the event in time. That’s not “making it up.” Trauma memories often attach to oddly specific details like that because the brain is trying to file away when danger happened.
The family dynamics...
"What?!"
"I didn't say anything."
"How can you say such a thing?"
"I'm not going through this again."
"What do you mean?"
"All this -- denial. I'm done. I'm just going to say exactly what happened as I remember it."
"It never happened!"
"The reason I know it happened is that I renember it. I was eight years old. My brother was twelve years old. I was able to recover the date because I remember at some point in the week preceding the event, our father for some reason had told us, I'm going to be speaking at the Unitarian Church this Sunday at 11:00. It did not seem weird to me at the time, because he was always out of the house anyway. Plus all he used to when he was home was harangue me, so good."
"You lie."
"In fact, I remember thinking, it made sense that he would get something going on Sundays, because that was the only time he was ever even around anymore. Weekdays he was working, of course, and weeknights he was always at one of his many, many important community activities."
"You are delusional."
"Then, I found this article, and it all ...