Bus and Babe (Click most images for larger versions.)
While Bud and I were becoming an item, Buster and Babe were, too.
So, the four of us began doing things and going places together. To begin with, we stuck to walking and subways, but whenever Bud got to use his father's car, we traveled as far and wide as Robert Alan allowed.
Then Buster bought a car!
It's hard today in this ridiculously mobile world, where there are even more cars than people in Los Angeles, to explain the freedom Buster's car represented to the four of us. And especially to Buster and me: two poor micks whose horizon was circumscribed by city streets. Suddenly, we were unfettered. We could travel anywhere and everywhere time permitted, and it was grand.
Buster wasn't only the oldest, he also hadn't finished high school. So, while the rest of us went to school and worked part-time at best, he was working long and hard, saving what money he could while still contributing to the family. But, his payoff came the day he could afford a car.
It was his pride and joy: a dark, old, boxy two-door with patched tires. I seem to remember it being a Studebaker, but I'm not sure. Whatever it was it had to be at least ten years old, but Buster would've slept in it, if Mother allowed. As it was, I have a picture taken shortly after he purchased the car showing Buster with a big grin splitting his face, reclining on the car's running board. I also have pictures of the four of us at various places all over the state of New York, thanks to that car. Bus and Babe, however, were making more than trips.
Things started happening quickly for them after the car. I'm not saying the car was to blame, but I don't think it was coincidence when their hasty marriage followed close on its heels. I still remember the night Bus told Mother they were hitched. I would say eloped, except everyone else knew they were going away to marry.
Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure they went to Connecticut to get married. That State! Its laws must have been very lax in those days.
Anyway, it was a night in 1932—Babe only sixteen, Bus twenty—when he came home to tell Mother. They were in her bedroom at the Flatbush apartment, and I could hear her crying—she was dead set against the marriage. The fact that Babe was Bud's sister didn't help, nor that Buster had just lost his job, but Mother also felt that it was too early for Buster to tie himself down, not only with a wife, but with a baby already on the way! Mother couldn't face all the hardships she foresaw for them, she was at her wits end. Plus, Ike was adamant: the newly weds weren't going to live in his home.
That's why, the following January after Olive Edna "Toots" Guy was born in December, Mother called her ex, William Guy, and told him that now he had to assume the burden of Buster and Babe and their baby.
"It's high time you do something for your kids," I remember her saying.
To his credit, William did—he helped Bus get his start.
William was in the union by then, making good money in engineering maintenance. Mother later said that William didn't hesitate when she asked; he said to send Bus and his new family on up to Bridgeport. It surprised her. She had expected a refusal mixed with lame excuses, but there were none. Her relief was palpable.
Bus and Babe didn't think it was what they wanted to do, but they had limited options—Ike wanted them out of the house, and the Simmonses had no room to offer. So, the newly weds with their little Toots, packed up their jalopy and headed north. When they arrived, William got them settled into a nice apartment, then went to the hospital where he worked, St. Vincent, and helped Bus get a job there.
By applying himself and taking all the lessons and tests he could, Bus finally joined the union and began to work his way up. And things couldn't have turned out any better, for not only did he become a prosperous hospital engineer, retiring with a good pension, his sons also worked in the field. I don't know how things really were for Bus, but whenever I talked to him, he always seemed happy and at peace.
Bus and Babe stayed on in Connecticut, settling in Bridgeport, while he climbed the work ladder. It was there in October, 1937, that William Thomas "Skip" Guy Jr. was born. Then, in 1943, after the family moved to Hartford, Robert Allen "Butch" Guy entered the world. The family moved again before Patricia Margaret "Patty" Guy came along. She was born in 1944 while they were living in Waterbury. I guess Bus and Babe didn't want consecutive children born in the same town, because in 1952 they were back in Bridgeport when Christina Rose "Teena" Guy came along. Then in 1958, Buster was a supervising power engineer at Mountainside Hospital in Montclair, New Jersey, when their last child was born: Richard Joseph "Ricky" Guy.
Six kids! Buster was a good Catholic. I also think he was a good father and a good husband, but you'd have to check with his family.
Our original quartet saw each other off and on over the years, and I enjoyed a long, rich correspondence with Babe. When I had one, my family would travel back East and visit relatives, Bus and Babe always first on the list. And then, they would travel out West to reciprocate. I think being brother and sister to a brother and sister helped make our relationship so close, and with the children, too.
I was going on a cruise once and the boat set sail from New York. So, I left California early so I could visit Bus and Babe. One day while I was there I took little Ricky—I think he was twelve at the time—into Manhattan and introduced him to all my favorite spots. We went up the Empire State Building and did the tourist things, but the treat that I saved for last was Schrafts! I told Ricky that it would be special, the best hot fudge sundae he'd ever had, and when we were through he said I was right. In an email recently he said even after all these years that Schrafts' sundae was still the best. The other thing I did is, when it was time to fly back to California, I took him on my plane (try doing that in today's security climate!). He wasn't able to appreciate it, however, because he was scared to death that the plane would takeoff with him on board. At any rate, I had a soft spot in my heart for little Ricky. Of course, he's Richard now, living in Texas with his wife, Jannette, and a Chaplain for a "Truck-stop Ministry."
Children always grow up, and adults become old, and life goes on.
It was in 1998 when Bus passed on. He had retired, living with Babe in Bristol, Connecticut. Their "wedded bliss" lasted for more than sixty-six years! Wow! At the time of his death, he had seventeen grandchildren, seventeen great grandchildren, and three great-great grandsons. Bus and Babe had created a clan of their own.
Unfortunately, about three years later, Babe joined Bus. I miss them both very much. Now, out of our original foursome, I'm the only one left.
I never knew how Mother really felt about Bus and Babe not having a "normal" wedding. I think it bothered her—especially since the bride's family would have paid for it—but she never told me her true feelings. She didn't have to wait long, however, before there was a "normal" wedding in the family, but she would have to pay for it. And, O, how Mother hated to spend money. In that respect, she and Mother Mills would have seen eye to eye.