My mom and I visited Aunt Ruth’s bench in central park. Aunt Ruth passed on last year at the age of 92. She was a pistol (and I’m saying it nicely). She was a true blue New Yorker but she didn’t start there.
The plaque on the bench reads, “Ruth Moiel – From Barn to Broadway.” My aunt grew up on a farm in Upstate NY. She had a rural life. Simple. But age 17 her parents sent her to NYC to care for her ailing sister. After her sister passed she was left to care for her young son and grieving husband. Later she would marry the widow and birth two more children. In her early forties her husband died leaving her to raise three children on her own.
She got a job as the receptionist for the Shubert Executive Offices where she met the incoming theatre elite. We occasionally visited Ruth. She lived on 200 Central Park South. Her building faced Central Park. I loved our strolls in the park.
When Ruth died her sons located a bench directly across the street from her place right inside the park and dedicated a plague to my aunt. My aunt – a woman who’s life story is contained between the “From Barn to Broadway.”
What would your plague say?