David X. Sheehan
Bio
I write my memories, family, school, jobs, fatherhood, friendship, serious and silly. I read Vocal authors and am humbled by most. I'm 76, in Thomaston, Maine. I seek to spread my brand of sincere love for all who will receive.
Stories (72)
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Near Life Experience
Age is just a number they say. I’ve wondered for almost all of my 78 years who is they. Growing up in a small town, West Bridgewater, Massachusetts (361 Spring Street), the original they were my Mama and Papa, from which all I learned from earliest memory was all that was necessary. I learned I was loved and cared for and that my folks could not only provide sustenance, but manufacture others, like me, but a little different, sort of unique cut cookies from different seasons and different reasons. These were the ones chosen for me and the experience still grows.
By David X. Sheehan6 months ago in Families
Dear as a Two Dollar Bill
I was 12 years old in the summer of 1959. A time, in my small town of West Bridgewater, Massachusetts, for no school and plenty of baseball. My father coached a St. Ann’s team, the Orioles and I was proud to be on his team. A team which included an equally young Jim Cheyunski, later our hero playing in the NFL for Patriots, Bills and Baltimore Colts (remember them?). We played on a field behind what is now the St. Ann’s Parish Center building and it sloped a bit from low to high back toward the church, a true “pitch” for footballers reading this. The field served us and the league for a few years. This day July 9, 1959, we little leaguers would be packed into a school bus and be taken to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox play. (look out! right field grandstands here we come.)
By David X. Sheehanabout a year ago in History
In My Life I Loved Them All
I find myself in the late 50’s and early 1960’s this morning, transported by the Everly Brothers “All I Have to Do Is Dream”. Those days, when I was a boy nearing the age of 12. I found myself wandering about and around this thing called life.
By David X. Sheehan2 years ago in Humans
Laura's Theme
It was the last vestiges of a warm fall day, you know, just before long sleeves and woolen vests. A day that needed a walk in it, before breathing in the cold air that messaged the lungs it was time to hibernate. Slowly making my way down to the St. George River as high tide, brought whatever the Atlantic pushed in this morning. Staying free of the wet mud along the bank and side stepping those long wooden boxes that the clam people fashioned to hold their catch of the multi sized bivalve mollusks, dug up from the mudflats at low tide. Soon, like everything else, the cold and wind of winter would freeze, and the river take on the look of a quiet mirror, that only God could paint.
By David X. Sheehan2 years ago in Fiction
The Dance of Youth
As a boy, almost a teen, growing up in my small town of West Bridgewater, Massachusetts; the late fifties into the sixties provided an atmosphere for the leap to becoming a bona fide grown-up individual. The next step to the ramp that allowed us to jump toward adulthood, came in a unique form, a tried-and-true method called “Ballroom Dancing”. On a Friday night, for a mere fifty cents, one could have their parents drop them off on School Street in Brockton, Massachusetts. As many before us had done, learning to dance at The Nancy Bradford School of Dancing, was tradition. For me and my brother, Chris, it was a chance to spend time with our friends, and to begin to get a feel for our first actual contact with, dare I say, GIRLS. Other than chasing them and stealing their hats, hanging with girls just wasn’t done, we boys were obviously way beyond that. At 76, I have come to know, it was definitely the fear of the unknown.
By David X. Sheehan2 years ago in Families
Rest In Peace Sweet Camelot. Top Story - August 2023.
Stop and go traffic on route 28 heading to Cape Cod on a steamy and sticky August afternoon, would make most people hot under the collar. Not on this day because Eddie and his “with child” wife Brenda were windows open and radio blaring the Tyme’s song
By David X. Sheehan2 years ago in History
Of Cherries, Rafts, and Brothers
I have written of the many places my dad worked when I was little, one of them was Traverse City, Michigan. To do a quick memory refresh, just out of the Navy, Papa worked for a company named Stromberg-Carlson who, after WWII, helped the United States infrastructure by building a bigger, better telephone system from the ground up, across the country; and continues, today, to manufacture electronic products. My father was part of a group that put telephone offices and equipment together in hundreds of towns and cities. One of these towns was Traverse City, Michigan. Generally, it would take an average of three months to get the office up and running.
By David X. Sheehan2 years ago in Families
Sheehan's Ice Cream Parlor
I don’t recall the exact age, but at some childhood point my parents were able to make me understand the concept of family and it helped, because I had often asked (in my head) who the heck are they talking about? Or who is that? The knowledge happened at the beginning of the end of the “children should be seen, not heard” section of the Sheehan book of child rearing just after the “sshhh go out and play” chapter.
By David X. Sheehan3 years ago in Men
