1987 – Karate, Baseball, and a Childhood Farewell

The new year of 1987 found my family and I living in our new house. I was enjoying first-grade at St. Thomas Aquinas with our friendly teacher Mrs. Conguista. On January 22^nd the east coast was hit by a blizzard. Like other neighbors Dad shoveled snow, only he might have chosen to shovel when he arrived home from work after the night shift, which was quite early in the morning. Mom would say, “John, do you realize what time it is. The neighbors are probably still sleeping.” He was operating on his own body clock, and he worked with his energy as he had it.

Dad would generally be at work during my bedtime. I enjoyed Friday nights laying in my parent’s bed with Mom watching prime time TV. Some of the evening shows that I enjoyed that winter and spring were Webster, Mr. Belvedere, and Sidekicks. I would fall asleep when the newsmagazine program 20/20 came on. I particularly enjoyed Sidekicks as it featured a cool young boy, who I could relate to, teaming up with a likable older guy and going on karate adventures together. Karate was part of the American zeitgeist in the mid-1980s. It was fueled by TV shows like Sidekicks, movies such as Karate Kid, American Ninja, No Retreat, No Surrender, and video games such as Kung Fu, Karate Champ, and Double Dragon, and not to mention martial arts related toys and comic books.

At some point within the first year of our move to 2160 East 35^th Street I began to take karate lessons on Avenue S at East 34^th Street with Sensei Dan. The dojo was an open space with a padded floor section. There was the smell of incense, and the sights of trophies, and belts of degree hung up on display. We went barefoot, kids would become sweaty, and there might be some strict talk or disciplining. It was both exciting and intimidating. I had a bit of a love-hate relationship with karate lessons. I liked it when we practiced working on fixed patterns that we learned and copied from Sensei Dan or an advanced student, while yelling “Haa!” What I did not enjoy was sparring, when classmates had to fight each other in one-on-one matches with certain limitations, while being observed by the sensei and the rest of the class. Sometimes I did ok while sparring, and sometimes I got hurt. Oh boy, I hope Sensei doesn’t call on me. Ok, my turn, what the heck am I supposed to do!? I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I definitely don’t want to get hurt! Ok here we go! Sparring was entering unknown territory, kind of like jumping into a chilly swimming pool. I basically knew I would survive but wasn’t sure how unpleasant it might be before I got out of it. 

Dad signed me up for two baseball teams in the spring: St. Columba and St. Thomas Aquinas. Joe and Jack Lanza across the street were playing on the same St. Columba team as I was on which was cool and enough for me. But I suppose Dad couldn’t resist it when he received a take-home note from school advertising the T-ball team and so I was signed up for that as well. We practiced indoors in the school gymnasium which I kind of liked. The batter would stand next to the tee and hit the ball off it and the rest of us would wait on the “field” for some action. I’m not sure we played any games or not. The St. Columba team on the other hand was a bit more advanced; there was pitching by a coach, and I think we played against other teams. That season Dad assistant-coached with the St. Columba team. There were times in the late afternoon when, while our team was playing in Marine Park along East 33^rd Street, I disappointedly watched as Dad went to his car and drove away to work. I wished he could have stayed and watched me play longer[1]. 

One of the other St. Columba dads was a karate teacher at a different school a block from the one I was attending. Most likely he suggested to Dad that I try out his school and so I attended karate classes at two different schools a block apart on Avenue S. I felt that the baseball dad, Sensei Jim was too rough for my tastes. There was a lot of yelling and competitiveness in his class, and I could not help but feel anxious throughout. I requested to stick with Sensei Dan’s lessons on East 34^th Street.

I was becoming more acquainted with new friends on the block namely Jack and Joe Lanza, Johnny G, an older boy “Big Joe” and one or two other kids who were less friendly. Once the weather warmed up my friends and I began to play wiffle ball in the alley of our new home. I’m sure the neighbors with whom we shared the alley with were not thrilled with this, but fortunately they were very tolerant of us. 

As my first-grade year wrapped up, Billy and I stayed with Nana and Bampa while Mom and Dad took a brief trip to Mystic Seaport, Connecticut. They had an enjoyable time although Dad was not feeling his best. Shortly after that Nana and Bampa left on a trip to Norway to visit family and friends. When they left, I cried hard because I was so close with Nana, but once out of my system, I was back to fully enjoying the summertime and life as a kid. We exchanged letters and postcards with Nana while she was in Norway. By early July we had already enjoyed water fun time. We went as a family to Jacob Riis Park Beach where I was impressed watching Dad go into the big waves. I preferred to prance around on the sand from going from one bay to the next. However, I did enjoy going into the water with tiny waves at Manhattan Beach the following day. I was also now tall enough to go into Charlie Hertz’s backyard swimming pool without a tube since I could now reach the bottom while keeping my head above water. The 4^th of July was quiet on our block and Dad went to work that night as usual.

There was a small plastic pool in the backyard with a tiny slide that was still fun for Billy, but I was already too big for it. We would play back there with our toys, sometimes joined by friends while an adult would be nearby keeping an eye on us. Mainly though I would be playing baseball in the alley with Joe and Jack Lanza, Johnny G, and Big Joe among other visitors like Donny Laughlin or Mickey Galligan.

One day while Dad was lying down resting on the living room couch, I got the bright idea to show him some of my newly learned karate moves and delivered a jump kick right into his unsuspecting belly. Apparently, he was in no mood for this and reacted by thrusting me away from him. I felt like I flew across the room. I don’t think I was very hurt physically, but I was shocked, and hurt emotionally. I felt foolish for showing off my moves even though he was the one encouraging me to learn them. Maybe I was stronger than I thought? Or maybe he wasn’t feeling great himself? Around this time, I heard that Dad had been in the hospital for a while, I didn’t understand why. Then he was back home for the weekend hanging around the house in the daytime watching baseball on TV. I didn’t exactly enjoy having Dad around the house lying on the couch, especially since it wasn’t like he was playing with me more, but he was apparently recovering from being sick and so the mood was a bit odd and precarious[2]. Soon after he went back to the hospital.

On the morning of July 31^st, I woke up to what seemed like a party going on in our house. There were several neighbors, friends, and family over. I was happy about it, but I noticed that the atmosphere was a little strange and nobody seemed to reflect my readiness to have a party. Mom asked me to go for a walk with her. We walked up the block towards Avenue U and sat down on some benches on the other side of the street. She told me in a serious and compassionate tone, “John, I have something to tell you. [Pause]. Your father died.”

“You mean he won’t be coming back home?” I asked genuinely unsure.

“No, he won’t be coming back home” she struggled to respond.

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Where did he go Mommy?”

“He went to heaven.”

“Did he do anything bad? Why did he die?”

“No, he did not do anything bad. He died because God decided it was time for him to go to heaven.”

“Can I still speak to him?”

“Yes, you can still speak to him in your heart.”

I cried as Mom hugged and consoled me through her disbelief at what was happening. We walked back home. Fortunately for me, my child’s mind was easily able to enjoy the present moment. So, while I knew that something dramatic was changing in my life, I still enjoyed the company and what seemed like a party to me. Donny came over with his mother, Jemma. I said, “Hey Donny, guess what?? My dad died!” as if I was revealing to him that we were going to go to an amusement park that day or something. I was super casual as I had no experience with this sort of thing before. There was no rule book to follow, and the adults were probably as mystified as I was. Of course, Donny and Jemma knew already. That’s why they came over so early in the day. I can only imagine how broken-hearted both of them must have been as well. Later that day, I went to Marine Park with Nana. I rode my blue and white Royce Union bicycle with training wheels with a light spirit. It was a lovely summer day. 

Mom’s wisdom was that Billy and I would not benefit from attending Dad’s wake or funeral. In any case I was happy to stay home and play rather than having to get dressed up and be formal for a prolonged period in a heavy adult atmosphere.

A few weeks later, I was invited to join the Galligans on a day trip to Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey. Perhaps they thought the trip would be fun for me and help to take my mind off things. I hesitatingly agreed as I was not super excited with spending the day away from home nor scary roller coasters. As we were crossing the Verrazzano Bridge I started freaking out. I was afraid the bridge would collapse and that we would all drown. On the heels of Dad’s death, I was no longer feeling so secure about my world anymore. Naturally the driver persisted, and we made it to the theme park safely despite my pleas to turn around. Eileen Galligan felt sorry for me. Once over the bridge I was fine and enjoyed my day at the theme park. Having a father-figure such as Mack Galligan was helpful though not the same. Subconsciously I was on the lookout for either Dad to miraculously reappear or for a new father-figure to show up. I looked for it in my uncles, friends’ fathers, and coaches, but to no avail. There would be other older male role models in my life who would fill the gap for an afternoon now and then, but I felt that I was not on their innermost circle and that I could not be.

Before summer’s end our baseball coach Kenny Hansen invited the whole team over to his house for a pool party. Mom parked around the corner which gave me the chance to enter an old-fashioned candy store. In the back were some arcade games. This was the first time I had ever seen the games Kung Fu or Ghosts and Goblins. I was fascinated and mesmerized. My interest in video games was growing. At the pool party, I had fun despite feeling different from the rest of the kids with their dads. Coach Kenny presented Mom with a plaque honoring Dad (John Sheridan) for his assistant coaching.

After returning to my original karate school on East 34^th and Avenue S with Sensei Dan, I advanced quickly. Sensei Dan told Mom, “John Henry is one of my most promising students.” I had advanced as far as a yellow belt with two green stripes. I admired all the advanced belts and the older students who had already passed the training and tests to achieve them. Despite Sensei’s praise, I felt uneasy about continuing. Truthfully, it wasn’t in my heart. And after Dad passed away, Mom naturally became more concerned about finances, and so when I expressed that I might want to quit karate lessons, she was ready to go with it. It just made things simpler for all of us.

After Dad’s passing, we received some money from my paternal grandfather John Francis Sheridan. This was the only time that this happened to my knowledge. It was his way of trying to ease our family burden now that Dad was gone. In any case when Mom told me about it, I immediately requested (or begged) that we use the money to purchase a Nintendo Entertainment System, which to my delight she consented to. I was so excited! We went out and bought a Nintendo, but when we got back, I had no idea how to hook it up to our family television set. Fortunately, Big Joe from down the block knew how and agreed to come and help. Once it was connected, I was thrilled! Playing cool arcade-like games that would appear on the TV screen? Really? Wow, can you imagine! The first game I played was Super Mario Bros. Man, this was so cool! I could run and jump, stomp on bad guys, collect coins, throw fireballs, catch magic stars to become invincible and then jump onto flagpoles! This was truly a life-changing moment. 

In the second week of September, I attended my first day of second-grade class. While we were lined up in the hallway outside of class I began to cry. My new schoolteacher was a nun, Sister Jareth. When she saw me crying, she pulled me aside before I entered the room and gave me a brief talking to as if I had done something wrong. 

She said, “I know what happened. And you crying like this in school won’t help.” 

She told me to toughen up, straighten my spine and get on with it. I was shocked by the lack of motherly compassion at the time, but she was no mother. She was a sister. I suppose that type of treatment could be an elder sister’s role in way, to be strict and to the point with us. But I didn’t appreciate it and for a long time I wrestled with the interaction between us, and I regarded her as strict and cold[3]. 

Dad was a Yankee fan and accordingly loved superstar player Don Mattingly. Dad would have been quite pleased to learn that Mattingly hit his sixth grand-slam home run of the year on September 29^th, the day before what would have been Dad’s 37^th birthday. During St. Columba baseball’s end of the season award event, I received an MVP trophy and smiled knowing how pleased Dad would be.

On a seemingly ordinary Thursday in early October, I was sitting in the living room joyfully engaged in playing Super Mario Bros. on Nintendo while putting off my homework. Suddenly we heard loud booming noises coming from outside. I had no idea what it was, but it upset me and reminded me of a thunderstorm or 4^th of July firecrackers. Mom went to the front door to look out. Other neighbors were emerging as well. Marie Lanza, a registered nurse, ran down the block to help a man lying face down on the floor. He had apparently been shot while running away from pursuers. This freaked us all out. We remained indoors some for some time. Later after ambulance and cop cars had come and gone, my friends and I walked down the block to inspect the area. There was the chalk outline sketch of where the body fell. We all gawked in awe, and it was quite disturbing. We were told he was killed while jogging, which didn’t make much sense, but we accepted it. Apparently, it was a mob hit. To lighten the strange mood Johnny G, in his clowning-around way, laid down in the chalk outline spooking us out.

Financial concerns were significant to Mom as a new widow with two young boys and a new home to pay a mortgage on. On October 19^th the stock market crashed hard. She lost money that she had been counting on in some minor investments. While she did a good job of hiding details from us around finances, I could sense a general unease around money especially now with Dad being gone. This on top of Dad’s sudden death, and the recent murder on our very block added to an uncomfortable sense of fear and uncertainty in the air.

For Halloween Mom kept it a bit simple for her and dressed us both as vampires. Toddler Billy’s costume was basic. Since I was older and more interested, she helped me with several details to become a convincing Dracula. I was amazed by the fake blood, fangs, white face paint, and black hair dye. Cool, I’m really gonna look like Dracula! It’s gonna be scary! We went to Nana’s house that afternoon to trick or treat and hang out. Mom was still driving the large brown station wagon that Dad had bought a few years prior. In the trunk, there was a piece that flipped open to store items beneath. I used this space as my coffin for a photo op!

On December 22^nd I turned seven-years-old. Christmas Eve was spent at Nana’s house. Relatives and neighbors joined, and we enjoyed traditions such as rice pudding, and a visit from Santa Claus who handed out a present for each child. For birthday and Christmas, my top requests were certainly Nintendo games. My new growing collection included Super Mario Bros./Duck Hunt, Excitebike, Hogan’s Alley, Ice Climber, Winter Olympics, and Baseball among others. Nintendo truly captured my imagination and sense of wonder. And whether I loved the game or not, I spent a lot of time playing each of them.