From the very beginning of my
thoughts about the Green Mountain Series, I pictured ten kids growing up in a
red barn in Vermont. That image was very vivid in my mind right from the start.
I’ve had a few dour people infer that I went with ten kids in the new series to
ensure I could write ten books. Well, that is and isn’t true at the same time. It is
true in the sense that I’m hoping to write about ten siblings who interest me.
It’s not true because check me out on
Gansett Island. “Only” five McCarthy kids, and here we go into book 11 with no
end in sight. I’m writing the eighth book (plus a novella) about one couple in
the Fatal Series. So I don’t need 10
kids in a family to propel a series. I went with ten kids because that’s how I saw the Abbott family in my mind.
I’ve always been fascinated with
big families, possibly because I’m one of two. My brother and I grew up
surrounded by cousins, all of whom came from bigger families than ours. Two
cousin families had four kids, one had five and another had six. My brother is
great, but I wanted sisters and maybe another brother or two so I’d have more
people to fight with. Of course, having lots of siblings probably looks a lot
better on paper or on TV than it does in reality, but I had a bit of a yearning
for a bigger family. My cousin Jen, who has always had long, thick hair, will
tell you she has no feeling in her scalp. When you ask her why, she says, “I’m
the youngest of five” as if that explains it all.
I remember being able, as a very
young kid, to list President Kennedy’s eight siblings in perfect birth order,
and I loved TV shows about big families, such as The Waltons (RIP Daddy
Walton) and Eight is Enough. I think it’s possible I was doing research
for my books all the way back in the 70s and 80s, sitting in front of a TV that
received only three network channels and was dependent on rabbit ears for
reception.
So knowing about my fascination
with big families, imagine my delight when I heard from reader Molly Lyon in a
Facebook comment in which she told me she had grown up in Vermont with nine
siblings. Ten kids in Vermont! Hot damn! I also thought it was awesome that her
name was Molly, which is the name of the Abbott family’s mother. I asked Molly
if she’d be willing to answer a few questions about growing up in a family of
ten kids—in Vermont of all places—and she generously shared some of her
favorite memories along with a few heartaches.
Her parents, Mitchell and Alice
Sturgeon, were married in 1962. In 1971, they built a three-bedroom,
one-and-a-half bath home on property in Georgia, Vermont, next door to
Mitchell’s parents on land the family had previously farmed. Alice was one of
five siblings and Mitchell Sturgeon Jr. was an only child. Their children were
born over 19 years: Michelle (1967), Michael (1968-1985), Molly (1969),
Melissa (1971), Mary (1973), Matthew (1975),
Margaret (1976), Mark (1979), Mead (1982) and Miles (1986).
Michael died in a motor vehicle accident in 1985, an event Molly referred to as
“extremely hard.”
“In September 2006 we almost went
through it again when Miles was in an accident that left him in coma for two
months and hospitalized for four while he re-learned everything,” said Molly,
who lives in Fairfax, Vermont today. “Both of these events brought us
closer together and makes us appreciate each other that much more. My
parents were so strong throughout each scenario, and I’ve learned so much
from them both.”
Molly shared stories about family
vacations that involved cramming into Mitchell’s Vanagon. That detail will probably
work its way into Abbott family lore, because I love the visual of twelve
people on a road trip in an old-fashioned VW bus. Can you imagine the
bickering? The first time the Sturgeon family made the trek to Florida to see
their grandparents, Molly was in fourth grade, and she remembers fun stops at
amusement parks along the way. The next trip to Florida in the Vanagon was
slightly less fun as all the kids were bigger, and the heat in the van quit
working.
Other family outings included day
trips to country fairs and happenings in their home state, until her
six-year-old brother Matthew got caught up in an exhibit at the Champlain
Valley Fair and didn’t follow the family crowd. “Fortunately, security
found him safe and sound,” Molly said. “I think that might have been the
last time we went to the fair for our ‘vacation.’”
She recalled four girls sharing
what had been intended as the home’s master bedroom, but went to the girls
because they needed both closets, which were still too small for the clothes of
four girls. “The bickering over sharing clothes was never ending,” Molly said.
“Margaret, being the last and fifth girl, was the impetus for adding a bedroom
in the basement, and the boys were banished so us girls could be split up.”
I asked Molly how her mother
stayed sane while raising ten children. It came down to Monday night card night
with the ladies, she said. “My mother has been dubbed a saint by many, and I’m
sure crazy by some,” Molly said. “She led by example. Her sanity was preserved
during her weekly Monday night card game with ‘The Card Ladies’. For more than
forty years, every Monday night, she would leave us with Dad (or we would be
banned from the dining room when she hosted) and play cards. She had a bag full
of pennies just for cards, and that was her therapy and outlet.”
Molly’s father had his own way of
coping. “I think my father’s sanity came from working, doing the grocery
shopping, which he started doing during the gas shortage in the 70s and loved—he
was the coupon king and knew what was on sale where and could stretch a penny
further than anyone—and gardening. He was our quiet rock and is greatly
missed.” Mitchell died in 2010 after a battle with cancer. “Last year, in his
honor, we participated in the American Cancer Society Relay for Life,” Molly
said. “Our team name was Mitchell's M's. We plan to do it again this year.”
Somehow Mitchell and Alice
managed to provide for their brood and ensure their children had everything
they needed. Mitchell worked in a factory all during Molly’s childhood. Her mother worked
briefly as a nurse and then was a stay-at-home mom. In the mid- to late-70s,
she started taking in neighborhood children and ran a daycare until 2006.
“We were always fed and clothed,
some of us in more hand-me-downs than others, and never felt like we were
missing out on anything,” Molly said. “We played sports and musical
instruments and somehow, some way Mom and Dad always found a way to get us the
equipment and instruments required. I realize now they went without so
that we could have what we needed. I’ll never forget when Michelle and I
wanted an album. Without a birthday or Christmas near, we were saving our
money so we could buy it ourselves. One day my father came home with the
album just because.”
Now all her siblings live within
30 miles of each other. They are all married, except for the youngest, Miles.
All of them except for Molly and one other have children, and Molly is the aunt
to 14 nieces and nephews, including a new set of twins. “Sitting around my
mother’s table sharing stories is the best,” she said. “Old boyfriend
stories, who did what and the ‘remember whens’ are priceless. I couldn’t
imagine being an only child. We always had something to do and someone to
do it with.”
Molly said my reference to the TV
show Eight is Enough reminded her of
another funny family memory. “Your mention of Eight is Enough reminded me of a bumper sticker my uncle made for
the van after baby number eight was born... ‘8 IS ENOUGH.’”
I loved hearing Molly’s stories
about growing up in a big family. My husband is one of six kids, and when
they’re all together, their favorite thing is sit around a dining room table
(usually with lots of beer) and tell stories about who did what to whom and
when. Hilarious laughter is always part of their gatherings.
They talk about the time one of
their friends shot a flaming arrow into the neighbor’s roof while the neighbor
was on vacation. They talk about redirecting the sprinkler system at the nearby
country club and how their dad used to defrost a hand-size space on a frozen
windshield and drive them to school looking only through that small patch of
clear glass. Then there was the time my husband Dan’s younger brother Joe
jammed a toothpick into my husband’s back and later ratted out Dan when he
decided to run away on his bike—on the interstate. Or when Dan nearly floated
out to sea during a visit to his married sister in Virginia Beach or when he
shot out all the windshields in cars at a junkyard with a BB gun. Except it
wasn’t a junkyard. It was a body shop, and he made the mistake of returning to
the scene of the crime the next day... And yes, I married a hellion. Thankfully
he mostly grew out of his hellion ways!
When I was a kid, I wanted what
my husband and Molly had.
Now I get to make it up. And that—and only that—is why
the Abbott family has ten kids.
