After my mother died when I was ten years old, my father quickly re-married and we moved to 363 Knickerbocker Road Tenafly, New Jersey. It was a Brady Bunch type of situation with two families quickly merging. Sons and daughters in both families were of the marrying age so not every sibling moved into the new house.
One of my older brothers stayed in the basement of our former home in Dumont, New Jersey. That home was rented out and the renters completely demolished the place from what I heard. One of my older step sisters was having a shouting match with her mom the first week we moved in. Shortly after she moved to California. All told, there were ten brother and sisters including myself. I don’t think all ten ever lived in the home together. If I remember right, an older step sister lived inn the attic while my step brother, who was just about my age, and I shared a bunk bed. My younger sister had her own bedroom.
There was another bedroom at the top of the stairs and an older sibling must have been there. I took that bedroom while I was going to the School of Visual Arts in NYC. After commuting to college each day by bus, and working at a mail sorting facility to pay for it, I had a bit of a meltdown and had to leave home. I bought a tent, panniers, a sleeping bag and a bike and started camping in the back yard to test out the tent.
In the middle of winter, I left to bike across the country. My older brother had gotten a job out in Seattle and that became my final destination. This was my way to leave the nest and take flight. It wasn’t an easy flight, but now every choice was my own. If I could make it across the country I could accomplish anything I set my mind to.