A WRITER'S WIT
MY JOURNEY OF STATES is a series in which I relate my sixty-year quest to visit all fifty states in the U.S. In each post I tell of my relationship to that state, whether brief or long, highlighting important personal events. I include the year of each state's entry into the union and related celebrations. I hope you enjoy my journey as much as I have. This is the sixteenth post of fifty.
Connecticut (1957, 1959, 2003, 2006, 2008, 2012)
Several of the apartment buildings had green awnings over the main door, and I told my four-year-old brother that one of them was where Grandma lived, as a joke, when I knew it was indeed the one we parked nearest. As soon as we got out of the car, my brother dashed across the busy street to the one I’d said was Grandma’s. My mother knew immediately why he’d done it and practically choked me. I was a bad boy. Thankfully, Vic must have known what he was doing for no catastrophe resulted.
I believe Ken and I drove through the state the very afternoon that Paul Newman’s death was announced on the NPR station we were listening to in our rental, mere miles from where both he and my father had lived, at different times. It seemed like a strange juxtaposition: my father’s birthplace, Paul Newman’s death. To whom was it more of a home?
Connecticut is fifth of the original states, having been established in 1788.