We were still living in Cutchogue, L.I. when Sheila was born. Maureen had just gotten her driver's license before Kerry, our 9th child was born. We had gotten a rusty green Chevy sedan for her to get to local stores and ferry kids up around town while I was teaching at Sayville High School. I had just bought a new VW beetle for the 45 mile trip each way to school. On one Sunday the whole family was dressed to go to 9:00 o'clock Mass. Half the kids went with Maureen in her rust bucket and the rest went with me in the beetle. This way we could all attend the same Mass.
But one Sunday, as she finished getting the little ones into their go-to-meeting clothes I went out to start up the Chevy because sometimes it didn't start easily for her. It was a lovely day but it had rained and the balky car would not start no matter how nicely I talked to it and called it pet names and expressed invective. That car did not want to go the church that day! No way, Jose.
I went back to the house as the last of the girls were tugging on white gloves. I told Maureen the bad news; we had only the beetle to use and consequently would have to go to Mass at two different times. The next Mass was at 11:00. It was the only solution.
BUT... Maureen's voice reached several octaves higher as she cried, "How do you expect me to keep these children neat and clean for two more hours? Are you out of your mind?" I expressed my regrets but pointed out that all we had running was the four-seater VW beetle. The green junkpile was simply not operational, and that was that! Oh, Don, you fool!
In a very quiet voice she simply said, "Well, then we'll go in the VW." I was aghast.. Was my wife losing her mind? Twelve into four does not go as any math teacher knows. Well, technically it does but you end up with a fraction.
By then, however, she was already ushering all the kids out the front door as she announced, "Well, we're just going to have to fit them in. Let's go." At that point I could either protest in vain or see how it could possibly be done.
OK... I got three of the middle-agers, Maura, Eileen and Dennis to squeeze into the well behind the rear seat. The three oldest, Kathy, Chris and Patrick fit tightly across the rear seat. The three youngest, Beth, Jeanne and Kerry, sat on their laps. Maureen in the passenger seat holding the infant Sheila. I got the only single seat as driver. It was only a few miles to the church in Mattituck and I drove there very carefully.
We parked on the street by the church. I got out and directed the unloading process which had to be very orderly: first Maureen and baby; next the toddlers on laps; next, the three biggest; last the medium-sized contingent in the rear well. Naturally, as they each one got out they stood watching as the remaining ones unfolded limbs and came out. The line of Cahills on the sidewalk grew longer and longer-- attracting attention from other parishioners. No one had ever provided such a pre-Mass entertainment as the emptying of our own personal clown car. We then matter-of-factly proceeded into the church, where we naturally sat in the front pew.
After Mass, the loading went more easily since everyone knew their places. Naturally, this attracted another and somewhat larger group of smiling and laughing onlookers. There were even a few scattered cheers as we drove off. I guess some people are easily amused.
Now, you might think that that was the end of the episode but, no. A few days later, as I was driving to school I noticed an unusual bumping from the car. I stopped at the Volkswagen dealer where I had purchased the car only the month before, to have it looked at. The mechanic told me
"Amazingly, the rear axle is cracked, but, you don't have to worry because it will be replaced and is fully covered by your warranty." He might, understandably, have been mystified--but then, I felt sure that he had never before dealt with a clown car!
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