Quirkie

Quirkie was a hoot, and she was one of my best childhood friends, even though she was nearly old enough to be my grandmother. Her real name was Alice Quirk, and she lived in the house behind ours.  Her husband, Big Bob, a Leominster police officer, died when I was very young, and her children, Bobby and Mary Jane, were soon off to their own lives.

Quirkie may have lived alone, but it was never in her nature to be alone.  She loved being around people, often dropping by our house for “half a cup of coffee.” She even enjoyed having a little girl tagging along with her.  We would go to Howard Johnson’s for Fish Fry Night, and for years, I slept on her sofa every Saturday night after we watched, and sang along with, Mitch Miller.  I would join her for visits to her family in Worcester, the O’Rourkes, and for mean games of Pokeno with her lady friends.

When Mary Jane married and had children, Quirkie would take me along on drives to Stamford, Conn.  (She nearly always got a ticket for driving too slow on the highway.)  Mary Jane’s kids, Stephen and Neil, are now grown men and probably don’t even remember me, but I adored those babies and could change their diapers and burp them like a pro, at least after a little practice. Mary Jane was as sweet to me as Quirkie, and I adored her husband Sal.

When I was very little, Bobby nicknamed me Little Miss No-Name because I refused to say my name.  I didn’t stay shy long.  After serving in the Navy, Bobby came back to Leominster.  He used to beg me to read really bad jokes to him from a book I carried around.  Soon, he married Sandra, who I thought was just about the most glamorous woman around.  They came to Quirkie’s for dinner every Sunday—I recall Quirkie fixing “ham what am.” Bobby was a model son, always showing up to mow or shovel for his mother.

Looking back, I realize that my friendship with Quirkie was something very rare and special.  She taught me that adults can be real friends to little children, even those outside their family, and can make a child feel quite special.  I like to think that I honor her example in my friendships with various neighborhood kids over the years.