First Story:  Baby Cathie

I was born early in the morning on Wednesday, March 7^th, 1945, at Bayonne Hospital. It was a bright sunny day for that time of year.  My Daddy’s name was Stephen F. Sladowski and my Mommy’s name was Estelle.  I had a sister who was five years old and was also named Estelle, but was called Stasia.

To announce my arrival, my Daddy gave out cigars to all his friends and bought the biggest box of Whitman chocolates for Stasia to take to school and share with her kindergarten class at Our Lady of Mount Carmel School.

My Mommy wrote letters to my sister just after I was born and told her I weighed 8 lbs 2 ½ ounces, had only a little bit of hair, and kicked off my blankets; also that I did a lot of little things that would make her laugh.  She said I ate and ate, then burped and ate some more; then fell asleep.  And when I was falling asleep I would yawn, and my eyes would slowly close.  Mommy said I had long finger nails that needed to be trimmed, and she had to pull my shirt sleeves over my hands so I wouldn’t accidentally scratch my face..

I was named Catherine after my Daddy’s sister who had gone to heaven about ten years before with her baby son Robert.  Everyone called me Kazia.  I was a cute baby with blond hair that my Mommy would comb into a curl on top of my head so I looked like a Qupie doll.  I also had a very sweet disposition.

Second Story:  Cathie’s First Great Adventure (Sept. 22^nd to October 5^th, 1946)

My first great adventure was a plane trip to Oakridge, Tennessee, to see my Cioci Nell (my Mommy’s sister) and Uncle Hank who was an optometrist working at the Top Secret Nuclear facility there.  Air travel was quite new at the time and my Daddy was very worried about Mommy and me taking the trip, but he agreed to let us go and prayed for our safety.

A large group of people came to see us off on the four-engine American Airlines plane leaving Newark Airport on September 22, 1946:  Daddy, Stasia, both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends.  I was eighteen months old at the time and was already potty trained—quite a young lady.  Since I was so young, I really don’t remember too much on my own, but Mommy and Daddy wrote to each other while we were away, and reading their letters helped me remember what we did and all the fun we had while I was there.

Our return was heralded with a grand welcome at Newark Airport and was recorded with Daddy’s 16mm Kodak movie camera.  The entire family was there on the tarmac to welcome us.  Daddy caught every minute including my running towards him and saying “Daddy” at which point he dropped the camera and scooped me up in to arms.

More stories to come.  The next one will be called “Oh Brothers!!”