Song lyrics I penned years ago about St. Michael’s:
Hopewell Blues
Singin’ those Hopewell blues
Up that circular drive, no good news
Home for kids, orphans and not
Grim as an old Dickens story plot
Up that circular drive, no good news
Home for kids, orphans and not
Grim as an old Dickens story plot
Livin’ those orphanage blues
Tears in my eyes, holes in my shoes
Get up early, do your chores
Scrub dark hallways, buff hard floors
Tears in my eyes, holes in my shoes
Get up early, do your chores
Scrub dark hallways, buff hard floors
Singin’ those Hopewell blues
Up that circular drive, no good news
Strict nuns, gray walls, didn’t have a prayer
Gone now but our memories haunt the air
Up that circular drive, no good news
Strict nuns, gray walls, didn’t have a prayer
Gone now but our memories haunt the air
I lived there from the winter of 1958 to the summer of 1962. I did the hard wood floors east of Sister Clarinda's office. I never knew what they used that room for, but it was spit and polish 24/7. I did the Group Three floors and the bathrooms/wash rooms; I took out the garbage, too. St, Edburga Marie was my House Mom. She was a tough old bird, but she was the only Mom that ever took care of me. I loved her. She "went to bat" for so many of us, and sometimes she took the bat to us ;-) Our baseball team was undefeated in 1961; we had great chemistry. We went to Yankee Stadium to see Roger "The Dodger" Maris hit his 56th home run agasint the Indians -- it was "Whitely Ford Day." I loved the chapel; I served for two years. Sometimes life was hard, but compared to what I was used to, Saint Micheal's was my refuge, a walk in the park. I know about the blues, and I'd sing 'em every now and then, but it wasn't because of where I was . . . Saint Micheal's saved my life.
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