The Three Other Families That Raised Me

In my basement office where I do most of my writing, I have an eight-by-ten, color photo of my parents, Pete and Eileen LaBate. I love looking at that picture because they were such wonderful parents to my five sisters and me, and their almost 60 years together before Mom passed were a testament to their love and their commitment to one another and to us. (Dad passed about five and a half years after Mom.) As their children, we were truly blessed to have them and their extended families in our young lives. Sometimes, though, when I think about my Mom and Dad, I also think about three other families in our neighborhood, the three other families that helped to raise me.

Growing up in Amsterdam, New York, during the 1950s and 1960s was a classic slice of American life. Our dads returned from World War II, they found beautiful, young women to marry them, and every family seemed to have about four to six Baby Boomers, though they were just called “kids” back then. We lived in a section of town called Market Hill, and these four families all lived near the intersection of Bunn Street and Wilson Avenue. I honestly don’t know if the Borwhat family at 78 Bunn or the Dufresne family at 7 Wilson moved in first, but both were already in the neighborhood when our family arrived when I was about five in 1956. Then, I believe the Welch family followed at 12 Wilson about two or three years…