The Wonder Years

My generation, the "Wonder Years," grew up with large boxy televisions, kitchen wall phones, bikes with big handlebars and banana seats, the Beatles, Vietnam, Watergate, Nixon, Twiggy, Charlie Brown, the Monkees and some of the best music ever. Yes, I'm revealing my age, but that's okay; there's no harm in acknowledging that I'm from the Gen Jones era. Life was good in my little world, and all those events were just background noise as I sat at the dinner table, listening to my family talk endlessly. This time of year makes me homesick for those days, but having a platform to write about them keeps those memories alive.

My formative years were spent at St. Bernadette's Catholic School in Drexel Hill, PA (good ol' Delco). It was September 1965, and at six years old, I knew while sitting at my tiny desk that the friendships I formed that day would last a lifetime—and they did. It always amazes me how close we are, like family, and even if months pass without speaking, we can always pick up right where we left off.

Growing up in the 1960s in a small town it feels like a chapter from a cherished book—one filled with laughter, lessons, and a sense of community that seems almost nostalgic today. My childhood was spent in the halls of a Catholic school where the nuns ruled with an iron fist, their strictness both feared and respected. Yet, looking back, I realize that those very rules shaped us in ways we could never have understood at the time.

Every morning, we’d file into the classroom, most of us with uniforms crisp and shoes polished, ready to face whatever challenges the day would bring. The nuns, clad in their traditional habits, were a formidable presence, wielding rulers and the power of discipline like tools of craftsmanship. They taught us the importance of respect, hard work, and faith, instilling in us habits that have endured long after the final bell rang. For that I am grateful.

Despite their strictness, the nuns were also guardians of our innocence, guiding us through the formative years of our lives. They were tough but fair, and their lessons went far beyond the curriculum. We learned the value of perseverance, the importance of community, and the strength of our bonds with one another. Those eight-hour days spent together, huddled over desks and sharing secrets during lunchtime, forged friendships that have lasted over 60 years.

Our small town was a tapestry of familiar faces, where everyone knew each other, and the sense of belonging was palpable. The neighborhood streets were our playground, where we played tag and rode bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. The laughter of childhood echoed through the air, mingling with the sounds of church bells and the rustle of leaves.

As we grew older, we navigated the challenges of life, but the foundation laid during those school days remained steadfast. The friendships formed in that little Catholic school became the bedrock of our lives. We celebrated milestones together—graduations, weddings, and the births of children and now grandchildren.

Thanksgiving always takes me on a journey down memory lane, allowing me to relive past holidays like a Dickens novel. The drive home, the anticipation of entering my Aunt's house, the aroma of turkey cooking with all the sides, and of course, the long walk through the neighborhood where I recall every moment of those days, football games in the park with our arch-rivals, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath my feet, the crisp air—those were the wonder years, and I am nostalgic for them.

l - r me, Jeanne Connors Downey, Justina Pompei May 1967

Those habits and friendships, formed in the innocence of childhood, are treasures I hold dear and honestly I am amazed that after so many years our bonds are still tight. They remind me of a time when life was simple, and the friendships we formed were unbreakable, lasting through the decades and into our hearts.

Today I found out that one of my classmates passed. My mind wanders back to those wonder years and I can see him in the playground like it was yesterday, always being funny, always the clown. I smile and get a grip realizing that life is short, start living it, be present, take the bike ride, buy the candle, eat the chocolate, go to the Keys, dare it, live it, don't just be a spectator.

Happy Thanksgiving, always

Caroline, Oliver & staff.