July 13, 1964

This day holds a very special memory in my life..

Fifty-nine years ago, God had put some special people in my life.

This story actually begins back in November of 1956, when I had

my tonsils and adenoids removed, because they were very swollen,

making it difficult to breathe & eat. I was just about 2 ½ years old. 

That was then. A few months later, I found myself making trips,

with my Mom,  to the Speech & Hearing Clinic, which was on Park

Avenue here in Bridgeport, at the time. I wasn’t talking too much

yet, and when I did, it was hard for others to understand what I

was saying. They also found that I had a hearing deficit in my left

ear. It was not a good time in my life-to say the least. Little did I

know that it was about to get more difficult when I entered school.The visits to the S&H Clinic continued for three more years. 

We lived in Trumbull at the time, and they did not have kindergarten.

I entered the first grade in September of 1960. I was still making

trips to the S&H Clinic, being excused early from school to attend

my sessions. I loved learning, but I didn’t like the kids who made

fun of me when I talked. It was very hard to understand why they

would do that, when I tried so hard to make friends with everyone.

At age 6, it’s hard to understand anything out of the ordinary. At

this point, I wondered whether the intense speech therapy was

really doing me any good. They really didn’t know what had caused

my speech impediment. They just chalked it up as a birth defect;

the same for the hearing deficit. 

In the Spring of ‘62, on a glorious May 5th morning,

I received our Lord for the very first time, along with my cousin

Judy, at St. Teresa’s Parish! Little did I know that 19 years later,

I would be teaching religion to children with special needs,

at this same parish! During this time, some good news,

I would no longer have to go to the S&H clinic because the

Trumbull School System was offering speech therapy right

in the school! 

A year later, I received a visitor at school. His name was

Mr. Kostopoulis, who was a Speech Pathologist. Of course,

I could not pronounce his name, so he told me to call him Mr. K.I had no idea who this man was, or why he came to visit me. I now

think of him as a special angel, because he led me to a doctor who

was able to help me. He asked if he could examine me. I looked at

Mr. Hofactor, the Principal, who had introduced Mr. K to me, and

he nodded that it was alright for me to go with Mr. K to the nurse’s

office. He then put a tongue depressor in my mouth, saying a lot of

“a ha’s.” After he was done, he told me that he knew of a doctor in

New Haven who was doing a procedure that he was sure could help

my speech impediment. He asked me if I would go to visit the

doctor. I told him he would have to talk to my parents, which he did.

I don’t remember exactly when we made the visit, but it was very

much like going to the S&H Clinic, with audiograms, and the taping

of my voice-lots of taping of my voice. This went on for almost a

year. 

Speech therapy continued in school. I lost my Grandmother Maria

on my 9th birthday.  I used to enjoy visiting her with my Dad who

would teach me to talk in Italian to her.. She had suffered a stroke

three years before, and was bedridden. She then came down with

pneumonia and passed away. 

By this time, Beatle songs were playing on the radio, and my speech

therapist, Mrs. Watnick asked me if I liked their music. I told her

yes, I did, I sang their songs a lot. She said good, you can practice

your speech therapy while singing their songs! 

Meanwhile, back at Dr. Howard Smith’s office, after having run

a battery of tests on me, found nothing new that we didn’t already

know-everything was a birth defect. My uvula was very short, making

sounds come out through the nose, instead of the mouth. All the

speech therapy in the world would not help, unless I had the

operation. Yes, I had to have a 5 ½ hour operation. What was he

going to do during that time? He was going to skin-graft the roof

of my mouth, and attach the skin to the uvula to make it longer!

This was not something I wanted to hear. This was a relatively new

procedure, so I did a lot of praying, because it was a bit scary, to

say the least. 

It’s the Summer of ‘64, July 12th, my parents are driving me to

Grace New Haven Hospital, (now Yale) and Dionne Warwick is singing

“Walk on By.” on the radio. I wanted to “walk on out”, as we were

approaching the hospital. After all, the next morning, I would be

going under the knife, having the roof of my mouth skin-grafted. It

would make any one a little squeamish. 

I didn’t get much sleep that night; all I could think about was the

operation. I had just turned 10 years old, just 17 days prior. I was

not going to be able to talk for a whole week.(Those of you who know

me, You could imagine how hard that was for me!)  I had to write

everything down on a pad. (No computers or Iphones back then) 

When I woke up, my arm was wrapped up tethered to a board, with

hoses hanging on it. I was being fed intravenously. They didn’t tell

me about that. I thought I broke my arm! My Aunt Florence & Aunt

Antoinette were there with my uncles. Mom & Dad were there, too.

My siblings I didn’t get to see for a week; they were staying with

Grandma Helen & Grandpa Nick. 

Communicating was a pain, having to write everything I wanted to say

on the pad. I was given lots of ice cream, applesauce, jello, and any

other soft foods they could give me. I got to do some Arts & Crafts,

with the other kids who were in the same wing as I was. I remember

making a jewelry box out of a cigar box, spray painting it gold, and

decorating it with shell macaroni. It came out pretty nice. I had

quite a few visitors, which made the week go by fast. Going home was

great, but there was more intense speech therapy waiting for me to

do. My sister turned 9 on July 31st, so we celebrated that. My Aunt

Florence called to tell me she was going to have a picnic-party for me

at her house. She invited the whole family; even some of my Dad’s

cousins came!

Life went on as usual. Fifth grade was a bad year. I won’t go into the

details. I had to repeat the 5th grade, due to the mitigating circum-

stances that made this almost the worst year of my life. I survived

it though, with the help of God. 

This story has a unique ending. I had always thought, in the back of

my mind, my impediments were not birth defects. I asked God to tell

me the truth when He thought I could handle it. He did just that. 

Fast-forward to 2017, when I was having trouble swallowing. They

tried to do some esophageal tests, where I had to drink some very

thick stuff, which made me aspirate. So I failed that test. They

decided to do a 3-D ultrasound, which revealed some surprising

evidence which supported my theory that my impediments were not

birth defects, as I had been told by the doctors. The ultrasound

revealed that my left vocal cord and the nerve leading to my left ear

had both been severed. This led to the realization that the uvula,

too, was severed, when I was 2 ½ during the tonsillectomy & adenoid-

ectomy. Well, what do you know-it was a case of severe malpractice,

but too late to do anything about it. The fact is, God revealed the

truth to me when He thought I could handle it. After so many years

had gone by. So many hours of speech therapy. So many hearing

tests. So many days of wondering whether I would survive the

difficulties and struggles. I now know the truth. I felt as though a

big weight was lifted off my shoulders. God was with me all the time.

Every step of the way. Waiting . . . just waiting to tell me what He

had told me years before.” These were not birth defects. You were

born perfectly”. Thank you, Jesus, for being my best friend.