Mrs. Gabelko’s Favorite (and Only) Daughter Shifts House
Mar 16, 2024 by Katrina Gabelko
SHORTLY AFTER NEW YEAR 1973, Grandma Gabelko was home from her hospital stay following a heart attack. She and Grandpa Gabelko settled back into their busy daily routine. At that time, the six Gabelkos occupied the top floor of a four-plex in south Berkeley. Grandma and Grandpa lived at 2416 Russell St., while the rest of us occupied 2414.
Grandma Gabelko's Hospital Stay, Circa 1972
Mar 04, 2024 by Katrina Gabelko
A View from the Annals of Mrs. Gabelko’s Favorite Daughter
By Katrina Gabelko, Guest Blogger
The time from late 1972 into mid-1973 was an eventful, often tumultuous, period in history. For Mrs. Gabelko’s favorite (and, only) daughter (me), a newly minted nine-year-old, it proved life-defining. Half a century later, I share this story, transporting myself back to enjoy the feeling of having a second sight:
By Katrina Gabelko, Guest Blogger
The time from late 1972 into mid-1973 was an eventful, often tumultuous, period in history. For Mrs. Gabelko’s favorite (and, only) daughter (me), a newly minted nine-year-old, it proved life-defining. Half a century later, I share this story, transporting myself back to enjoy the feeling of having a second sight:
Here we are again...
Feb 10, 2024 by Nina Herschlikowitz Gabelko
Neither my high school friends nor I can ever get over that day when we heard on the radio that our good friend had been found dead on the lawn of a local hospital. Her mother had arranged for the illegal medical procedure at some backstreet butcher shop because that was the only possible option. Our friend had at 15 years old gone out of state to marry a gas station attendant she’d met when she was walking from Wilshire to Santa Monica Blvd. She’d insisted that it was love at first sight and quickly talked him into getting married.
When my teachers took it out of the classroom
Feb 03, 2024 by Nina Herschlikowitz Gabelko
This article immediately took me back to my high school days when the country was still within the noose of McCarthyism. Those days when a student could be expelled from school for having a copy of “Catcher.” (We weren’t stupid, so didn’t bring it to school.) Many of our textbooks were old enough to vote. Our teachers were severely restricted in what they could discuss in the classroom. So how did I, a rather poor but very widely-read kid, land at Cal (almost) ready to learn at a whole new level? Just like their students, some of our teachers knew—just like with “Catcher”—when not to bring it to school.
Time travel is the bee's knees...
Jan 27, 2024 by Nina Herschlikowitz Gabelko
I got to travel back and forth today, and it’s wonderful—most especially since for an hour or so I got to be in my early 30s again. (I might have more energy now than I did then, but that’s not part of the story.) The four Gabelkos lived in Frankston, Melbourne, OZ from 1973 to 1975—when my kiddies were respectively 9 and 10 years old on arrival. It was sort of a Rod Serling experience because everything looked the same as at home, yet it was very different. When I taught there, lo that half century ago, I quickly learned to find out what things meant in context and not to assume anything.
Party Lines
Jan 20, 2024 by Nina Herschlikowitz Gabelko
Every day each of us is reminded of the importance of privacy—the need for it, the promise of providing privacy, and the breaches of it. My blog entry this week, unfortunately, focuses on how much joy my notiwealthy girlfriends and I got from breaching it. We got unending joy from listening in on “Party Lines.” Well-to-do families subscribed to the phone company for private lines—like now, when each line on your cellphone and your landline is securely yours. For example, I cannot lift my phone any time you’re on your phone on our common party line; I can just lift my receiver to listen in on your conversation from beginning to end. Of course, you were also able to listen in to my conversations but frankly, since my aunt and uncle snooped on everything I said to anyone, my phone conversations were never as interesting as the ones I listened in to. Those were wonderful.
Once upon a tango...
Jan 13, 2024 by Nina Herschlikowitz Gabelko
The impetus for this post is to make sure that you get to see these pictures because I love them so much. That’s Flossie Lewis, who, keine hora will turn 100 soon, teaching a group of 3rd graders to dance the cancan. You already knew how important THAT is to advanced language development. But the b&w pictures are of Nancy and me show us teaching the lads to tango for an older students’ version of the same for another of Flossie’s classes. [Well, I’m no dancer, so I’m showing Jaime how to look like he’s tangoing.]
What Miss Butler Said
Jan 07, 2024 by Nina Herschlikowitz Gabelko
"You'll never be smart. You'll always be successful."
Yup. Those were Miss Butler’s, my typing teacher’s words when she sat down at my typewriter to take my final timed writing in her class when I was in the 11th grade—I refused to cut my long finger nails because that would have rendered me unfashionable. Perish the thought. Me?!? No chance.
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