I am a Baby Boomer, born in the fifties, grew up in the sixties, graduated
in the seventies, and had a family in the eighties. But growing up in a
suburban town in New Jersey had its fair share of difficulties almost 60 years
ago. My first address was on Westfield Road, Brennan lived in back on Westfield
Road Circle, and only a block away was Westfield Avenue. All in Scotch Plains.
A lot for any 5 year old to take, but when we moved to the other side of Scotch
Plains that year, things got even more confusing. My parents bought a house on
Trenton Avenue, after almost buying one on Westfield Avenue, finally moving to
Scotch Plains, which had a Westfield mailing address. And there was another
Trenton Avenue about 1 mile away, with empty land with no road through it
connecting the two. You had to go through Fanwood, a small borough fully
enclosed by Scotch Plains to connect the two. So fearing problems, they changed
the name to Mohawk Lane, until they found a Mohawk Lane in Westfield, which
curiously enough could only be accessed from Scotch Plains. So they changed it
to Algonquin Drive and all went well and goes well to this day. But only a few
blocks away was Scotch Plains Avenue, in you guessed it, Westfield. And my
friend Eddie who lived in Scotch Plains and was a pretty good athlete, had a
Westfield address, with both towns wanting him to play for them, and both laying
claim to him. Scotch Plains won out, not sure of the hows and whys, but that
chapter ends, but the story goes on.
I walked to kindergarten over a mile to La Grande Elementary School,
crossing over two busy streets on the way. But for first grade, was transferred
to Shackamaxon, as Scotch Plains was growing and it demigraphics changing.
Although the kids only one block away went to La Grande still. But for second
and third grade I went to Brunner School, a new school that opened up, and was
closer, and many of my friends and I were reunited, along with others. Now just
when you thought you had finally found a home, it was back to Shack for fifth
and sixth grades. It seems the train tracks going through our town were a line
of demarcation, and I fell on the Shack side, even though Brunner was closer.
And friends up the street still went to La Grande! With McGinn opening on our
block the next year, thankfully I would be on to Junior High by then. And in
all this time my address never changed from Algonquin Drive in Scotch Plains, I
mean Westfield. Today by some happy coincidence, the mail is serviced by Scotch
Plains, and its identity is fully realized. You can only imagine the inner
turmoil when somebody asked “where do you live? or “where did you go to
school?” But the story is almost over, as the tracks also told us where we went
to Junior High, but both would go to a common high school, Scotch Plains Fanwood
High School, on you guessed it, Westfield Road. Schools dazed or dazed by
schools, these are tales of two cities.
Imagine being new to Jerusalem and meeting Jesus. He was from Nazareth,
born in Bethlehem, but did most of his ministry in Jerusalem, and was known as
the man from Galilee. No record found of any public education. And we know he
had at least two brothers, James and Jude, half brothers. Can you imagine the
questions they had to answer. So if Joseph is your dad, but not your brother,
who is his dad? Try explaining God to some fifth graders or their parents. But
didn’t Joe and Mary, your parents, have him when they were married? Again, try
explaining that one even today. But the truth is God is the Father of Jesus,
and Mary is his mother. Joseph raised him, along with his other sons, who
became believers of his claims after they saw their brother resurrected. You
think government paper was bad now, try to fill out that one 2000 years ago,
must have used a lot of space on the back. Good thing Jesus never applied for
food stamps, I can see him being denied instantly. Section 8 housing....maybe,
but tell me more about your real father first. And how the kids at school must
have talked, as we all know kids will. And their parents. And think of when
something broke at home, they couldn’t blame Jesus, so it had to be the others.
And how come Jesus’ room was always clean, he was never late for dinner? How
come he always won at hide and seek? Imagine growing up in the home with him at
Christmas time? They must have had one heckuva nativity scene! Think of Joe
trying to explain why he stayed with Mary, and didn’t have her served with
divorce papers, which he could have. But they stayed together for the
children. But really for God. As we find that when Mary had doubts and
questions, she pondered the things of God in her heart. She knew what the Holy
Spirit had told her, and both she and Joe knew she was a virgin, at least she
was sure. But Joe needed the same comforting, for he knew many questions would
be asked, and he had no answers. He already had questions with no answers, so
God intervened and comforted him. And somehow they both trusted God, raised a
family, and the oldest son went into the priesthood. And would die a horrible
death at an early age, his mother at the cross when he died. His brothers
believing his claims only a few weeks later after they saw him resurrected. And
both writing New Testament books bearing heir names, James and Jude. So maybe
all my early childhood confusion had an earlier start, and all ended well,
despite humble beginnings. Just like in the Bible.
And yes, it only took me 21 years to come to know Jesus personally. Maybe
about the same time it took their brothers. But we were both saved by the same
Holy Spirit, the same spirit that impregnated Mary, that comforted Joe and Mary,
that saw him crucified and resurrected, and who saw his brothers become
believers. And is still changing the hearts of millions today. Times are still
tough today, and will continue to be until Jesus calls us home. Until then when
our reservation in heaven is filled, we struggle everyday wondering who we are,
and why we are here. Again Jesus is the answer. He has a place for us in
heaven with our Heavenly Father, right next to him. Our citizenship confirmed
in the Book of Life. No forwarding address cards to fill out, no street names
to remember, and no alumni functions to attend. No changing schools, it takes a
change of heart to be guaranteed of heaven, it takes Jesus. So maybe the
easiest and most correct answer is I’m just passing through. Jesus did, and we
all shall. The final destination up to us, and there is no confusing heaven and
hell-there is a difference, and you cannot get out of hell, and you won’t want
to leave heaven. Jesus knows that, and now you do too. Boomers of all
generations welcome...take it from a kid from Scotch Plains, there is no place
like heaven. Home. See you at the reunion. Just don’t call me Old School,
School will be enough.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com