It was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”  Charles Dickens was a brilliant writer.  He spoke directly to me in this quote so many years ago.  At the time I didn't fully understand it but over time and especially now, I know that it describes my young teenage years as I moved towards a young adult.  How did Dickens come to be my favorite all-time author?  Well, that is a tale that I will share with you today.

My last post talked about the Dickens Villages that Jim and I started to collect as a young married couple. How we got to this village, was from the beginning of our life together.  That 1950 black Chevy had a lot to do with it.  It was our "ride" for a few years before Jim totaled it one night with me in the car, but that's a story for another day.  I have lots of stories from those days and yes, they were the best of times and oh my, they were also some of the worst days of my life.  Because we both had a fear of not getting our homework done on time,  that car became our classroom and our haven.  Dating time was limited for us in those days. Money was tight also.  But we both had jobs working as soda jerks at different drugstores when drugstores seemed to be on every corner.  The social outlet of any good neighborhood was always the drug store soda fountain with its root beer floats, milkshakes and raspberry lime rickeys, made with fresh limes that would make your lips pucker and real raspberry syrup.  As long as you had the money for the drinks you were allowed to swirl around on the red leather stools for as long as your drink lasted.  I loved that job.  I loved talking to all the people who came in, mostly from my neighborhood and I felt like a scientist making up all sorts of drink recipes when there were no customers and no boss watching me.  It also put a jingle in my pocket.  Not a lot of jingle but enough back then to give my Mom a few dollars and enough to give Jim money towards gas so that when we could find the time, we would go riding around in that little black chevy.  So right there was the beginning of the best of times and an escape from some of the worst of times.  I was fourteen years old when I met Jim and he was 15. We both lived in Salem, Mass, on the same street, but it was a very long street so we were not neighbors.  About six months after we met he was able to get his driver’s license.  He shared that car with his older brother and eventually with me. Those were the best of times.  Just being with him in that car doing our thing and learning about one another and surprisingly, learning about books.

On the weekends we would figure out a way to get together on a Friday or Saturday night. Never both. Sometimes it would be an afternoon ride if that would be the only time that week that he would get the car.  We didn't have money for big fancy dates because we didn't come from families that had big jobs.  My Dad was in the military and my Mom worked at that same drugstore, doing the same job that both I and my older brother did.  In our family money was always a problem.  Jim was a bit better off but for sure he wasn't getting money for "date night" either.  So we pooled our money for gas and maybe we shared a cherry coke and that Chevy became our date spot.  I loved those early years that we had together.  I loved that I was able to escape the hardships and chaos of my life as a young girl.  My Dad was never home, my Mom didn't travel with him as a military wife and life was unpredictable, to say the least. When my Dad did come home on leave things actually got worse. But come my date night I let all the heartache of home just slide away. What to do? Well, we both had good imaginations and so Jim became the navigator of our trips and I became the entertainer.  How to entertain with no money, well we read.  Yes, it was a kill two birds with one stone sort of deal.  We both had assigned reading to do and so we did it riding around in the Chevy.  I would snuggle down in the big old clothe seat, plant my feet on the dashboard, Jim drove and I read. Along with those stories, we also dreamed of all the things the future would hold for us. Sometimes when we got bored with the reading we would decide to put the car in "fly" and pretend to go to way off destinations.  Two kids grabbing at whatever they could to be happy in the moment.  

The first book we ever read together was "A Tale of Two Cities".  We instantly fell in love with Dickens.  It really was that simple.  Along with reading, there was always a lot of discussion about the book.  It was like we were having a mini-book club, just the two of us. Jim is very smart, me, more common sense so together we sorted out those books of true literature. We became entrenched in Dickens so much so that much much later we became members of the Boston Dickens Society.  We traveled to England and visited all of Charlie's homes. We took both our kids to 48 Doughty Street in London, where the house, to this day, is still set up like it was when he moved in it at the age of 25. It is where he wrote Oliver Twist, The Pickwick Papers and Nicholas Nickleby. It's where he first achieved international fame as one of the world's greatest storytellers. We also had the pleasure of attending a Christmas Reading in that house given by his great, great, nephew, wine included.  Above is my bookcase and the best part of three shelves are full of all the Dickens books.  Most copies are original from our riding days when you could get a great paperback for $2.00. From there we went on to read a few more Dickens before moving on to a couple of other favorites.

One summer we read John Steinbeck. Of course, The Grapes of Wrath was our favorite one together.  I have recently re-read that book and the words still hold true to this day.  I personally also loved Travels with Charley and The Pearl.  Once again, we read them all and of course as you can see we saved those also.  I just can't get rid of these precious books that were really my lifeline growing up.  So many times I needed to get away but the only place for me to go was into my books and that was always so helpful. When Jim wasn't around I was fortunate to have a local library attached to my school.  Books for free. I can still see that library today, all big brick on the inside and it smelled so good. In was in the basement of the school, a little dark and dank but I felt sheltered there.

Who can forget J.D. Salinger (Jerry).  The Catcher in the Rye, well that one I needed help with.  It was a good story but hard in some spots to understand. That is where riding with Jim came in handy.  He was always very good at sorting things out.  Here's the thing though, when I read the very first paragraph I thought I was going to be totally in love with it right off the bat.  "If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all that before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap but I don't feel like going into it if you want to know the truth." Page one, Charles Dickens shows up.  Yes, there was my David Copperfield.  How could I not love this book?  And together we also read Franny and Zooey.  Such escapism.  I have since a bit more about J.D Salinger and he was a bit weird.

I will end this book by telling part of one of my all-time favorite books from those early days.  I'm going to confess that I did not read these while driving around in the Chevy.  By the time I got to Theodore Dreiser, I was well on my way to knowing what I thought I would like.  I must admit An American Tragedy, to this day, remains one of my most favorite books.  A tragedy for sure...along the lines of Hemingways, The Old Man And the Sea.  I wonder if I were to read it again now if it would touch me in the same way.  Perhaps there are books that are meant to be only be read one time if they affect you deeply because of where you were in your life's journey.  I'm going to ponder this and see if I dare leap into those pages again or maybe leave well enough alone and keep it as a very fond memory of my late teen years and what that all meant.  I did also read Sister Carrie but it never held that same strong hold on me as An American Tragedy did.  Perhaps that is the one that I should read again.

I think though, that you get the idea now of how that Dickens Village came to be.  A seed was planted more than 50 years ago while driving around in a little black 1950 Chevy with my very first real boyfriend, not that prelude that came before.  We had that one year and a half before we both went our separate ways. Jim went on to college and I still had a year of high school to finish.  We never lost touch with each other though and maybe a year later we got back together again.  That time we stayed together and we had a few more dollars then which provided us with some real dating time.  We went to the movies and out to eat at the local hangouts but we never really read like we did that first year although we both are still voracious readers to this day.  Those days were special.  They set the groundwork of a reading life for us and Mr. Dickens has never been far away from our hearts.  I’ve collected his books, I've read most everything he has written and even books that people have written about him.  Our bookshelves are full.  

So from way back in the sixties...we had Dickens planted in our brains and in our hearts but we never knew how truly important he would become in the making of memories in our life. We now share those memories with our kids and grandkids.  They all know of our love of Dickens and when the department56 Dickens Villages came out it was a given that we would collect them, for us, as a memory of our time together when we saved each other from life.  Now, this year, we gave them to the 'little ones".  Someday they might read this and know why their Nana and Papa loved that village so much.  Why year by year, piece by piece we saved to buy each house, each little person and little period pieces from those stories, just as we saved to buy gas for a little black chevy so many years ago.  We saved for them because they were our beginning and they saved us.  

Now, it wouldn't be right to leave you with the idea that the only thing we did was read in the car when we first dated.  Who would believe that?  We did often scrape enough money together, depending on our tips at the drug stores in any given week, to go to a movie or meet our friends at Larry's Clam Shack. It was a takeout joint with the best-fried clams and tuna roll anywhere.  In the summer it was easy.  We were within walking distance of the Salem Willows. We spent a lot of time there with our friends, eating chop suey sandwich for 85 cents and popcorn at Hobbs for a quarter.  The beach was right there...and a very cool parking lot for steaming up the car windows until the cops came and made you leave.  But it was the books that were our connection and Dickens in particular and then so many years later. The Village.  

Now you know the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say.  The best of times and the worst of times...it really is what all of life is about isn't it? At that time though we didn't know that.  We just knew that Mr. Dickens and his friends saved us from the worst of times in our young life and gave us the best of times together.  It was a pretty good beginning for us.  Since those Dickens days, books have saved us more than once, I might add.  So here's to books and sweet drives and teenage summer loves.

Thank you to all who visit here. I read and respond to every comment that is left for me. Your visits always bring a bit of joy to my day.