Who'll Stop the Rain? by Mary Frontiero
I know they call it the
Sunshine State, but it was nothing but rain in the beginning. There we were,
another family trying to make a fresh start amongst all the other late bloomers,
con artists, and people running away from one dam thing or another . Think Ellis
Island with a tan in member's only jackets, add two kids and that was us. It was
the eighties but while everyone else was rolling in dough, we were trying to put
a roof over our heads. Florida was our last resort.
My husband and I
and our two preschool kids did the best we could with one car between us and the
creditors on our backs and everyone back home expecting this trip south to start
a new life to come to a swift and sudden end. The left handed support was
unnerving: "Call it a long Vacation." You can always come back home" or my
favorite, "Think of it as an adventure."
The "adventure" started with me
working from seven to four at a preschool with my kids. Ron, my husband, caught
a ride in to work with a co worker but I would pick him up when he was finished.
Most nights at the car dealership where he worked, finished meant anytime
between 10 and one in the morning. Because he has a great work ethic, it was
usually one in the morning.
I would take my sleeping children, buckle them in
to their car seats and drive thirty miles to the dealership. It would always be
raining. Always.
One night the kids woke up on the drive home. They
were happy to see their dad. They were happy we were all together. They were
born happy, these kids.
"Put on the radio" they commanded from the
back.
Out poured Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Who'll Stop the Rain" and
the kids, having listened to it since they were in my belly, knew all the
words.
Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was pure exhaustion. Maybe it was
the worn out squeal of the wipers against the glass trying to clear away too
much rain with too little rubber. Maybe it was the kids; their innocent little
three and four year old voices singing "And I wonder, Still I wonder,
WhoOOOOOOO"LL stop the RAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAIIIN?"
Ron lost it and
started crying. Not loud and sobbing, but tears real quiet like and steady came
streaming down his face. I had to look out the passenger window. We never spoke
the whole ride home.
Next day, he quit that job.
Within 7 days he got a
better position WITH a company car and I ended up working for the State
University with great benefits. In the sink or swim pond of life, we were free
styling. I don't know why our luck changed, but to this day whenever I hear
"Who'll stop the Rain," I know it had something to do with it. It was all about
Creedence.
Have a story!