It was 1966. Even though we lived right next door, I thought babysitting for six kids was terribly important work, especially since I was all of thirteen years old. I made it clear at home that I would only call if I could not handle the babysitting or if I had a question about the job. I was determined not to have to call though, because I was a responsible, young lady with six urchins entrusted to my care.
The day started out well. The older children, Matthew and Dorinne (they called her Dot), were helping me with Casey and the baby, Brian. The two middle children, Stacy and Mark, were just glad to have me there and constantly wanted to play...so we did. For awhile we played outside in the warm day, brightened by lots of sunshine. We played hide-and-go-seek, we played statue, we played tag. While the boys finished running around, the girls even played Jacks. Onesies, twosies, pigs in the blanket, strawberries (Jacks was something I was very good at).
When the sun went down it was time to start the hard work of getting everyone ready for bed and making a nice supper. I was starting to narrow down my choice of how many children I was going to have later in life, but at this time I was still a responsible, young lady with six urchins to think about. I had the bright idea of having the older children take their baths first, because I figured I could watch over the rest of the tribe and cook supper. We were having something simple, but as I prepared it, the meal seemed to be more like pheasant-under-glass with beans almondine or something French I could not pronounce. The younger children were all wound up and tugging at me all the time I was trying to cook. Aha, I got smart though, after the older kids were clean and had their pajamas on, I asked if they would help get the younger kids ready for bed. So, supper was on hold (the correct terminology is probably simmer) while we went upstairs to complete the task. The baby was easy, and with a warm bottle and lots of coochies and hugs, he was off to Mother Goose land. Casey seemed to have the worse time of it; he enjoyed being dirty so much more than being clean. After a change of pajamas for Matthew, and Casey finally IN pajamas, we headed downstairs to eat.
This is when I learned what being responsible for others really meant! After supper, the girls asked if they could stay up and watch Creature Feature with me. Creature Feature had a ghoulish host and always played the old Bela Lugosi or Boris Karloff movies, which to this day I find a little more than scary. By now, the boys went to bed, even Matthew, who thought he had to get his beauty sleep for the girls he might run into the next day. I was actually glad to have the company so I said yes, quite unsure of their choice of programming.
Dot was asleep during the first twenty minutes of the show and Stacy hung out just a little longer. I was cool, though, no fear in me. All of a sudden, there was an eerie sound outside the front door. It sounded like it was saying Chrisssss, Chrisssss. I couldn't have heard anything so I just turned down the TV a little to make sure. Then the doorknob started to turn. I had locked the door like any good babysitter should, but I had to stifle a scream. Then...silence. I quietly woke up the girls and told them to head upstairs. About this time in the movie, the monster Frankenstein was just sitting down with the blind guy, who lights a cigar and the monster goes crazy.
My heart was in my throat, but I knew I had to protect my urchins. Therefore, I made my way to the kitchen and just as I opened the knife drawer (wasn't too sure what I was going to do with the knife, but I had seen it in movies), the back door started to howl at me...Chrissssy, Chrissssy and the knob quickly started to turn left, then right, then left again. The first thing I thought of was to put one of the kitchen knives in the door frame, which I did. Actually, every butter knife in the kitchen was now placed in the door frame. After placing all the knives, I grabbed a sharp one and ran upstairs, not sure what protection I could give my urchins upstairs or if I was leading death to all of us, but with my knife I felt a little more secure. As I lay next to the girls, my heart starting pumping so loud I was sure the police could hear it and would be there soon, but to no avail. I was going to have to protect these kids on my own, by myself, one in the world, with no help to count on.
My resolve grew and I was ready. Maybe they would quit turning the knob and go away, unable to get to us to rip our hearts out. No such luck. I heard the front door finally give way and heard footsteps slowly coming up the stairs. I could see out into the hallway and was staring open-eyed not taking any time to blink my eyes. Then I remembered. The baby! The baby crib was in the parent's room! Why didn't I phone someone when I first heard the noises? I looked at the girls, peacefully sleeping and new I had to do something. I started to lurch off the bed when a trench-coated body came around the corner of the stairway. I stopped dead (pardon the pun) in my tracks
Oh my God...it was their dad. He was soused and stumbled into the parent's bedroom and collapsed on the bed. I couldn't believe my eyes! Patricia (Mom) said he was out of town; she was going to be out all night and not to wait up for her. In that one moment when I saw him lying, snoring on the bed, I could have easily kicked him (or worse) because I was so relieved. He still had on his coat and shoes so I just moved his feet over so they weren't hanging onto the floor, then made my way downstairs again to see if he locked the door. I didn't sleep the rest of the night, however. Remember, I was a responsible, young lady with six urchins entrusted to my care.