Chapter 15

My son Frank was born in New Jersey in 1961. He was named after his grandfather. He was perfect and grew up to be smarter than I could ever be. And has a wicked sense of humor. Once I learned how not to let him die, I enjoyed my mother-role immensely. And so, when he was six months old, we started another! I figured, hey, it’s rewarding, it’s symbolic as Hell, and shit, a little sooner than I would have liked if I’d actually had a brain, but I didn’t. Anyhow, in 1962 we had Amy, who was also adorable and perfect.

We were living in a small mobile home in a trailer park in Carteret, New Jersey. Frank was working at Revlon and going to night school. I was raising babies, playing housewife, and writing Frank’s papers for school.