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Memories

Photo of Joel Dresang at the “Acquired Taste” StorySlam in 2017.
Photo by Art Montes
Photo of Joel Dresang at the “Acquired Taste” StorySlam in 2017.

Our memories are what make us. They’re the stories, experiences, people and places that bind us. Memories serve as a window into the past and as an anchor point that help us orient ourselves in the present. This episode was hosted by Kim Shine & Joel Dresang, edited by Sam Wood and features four stories centered on the theme of “Memories” from Brooke Marlodi, Joel Dresang, Sam Treder and “Dot” Hamelin-Garcia.

Episode transcript below from Ex Fabula's Real Storie MKE series.

Kim Shine: Welcome to Real Stories MKE brought to you as part of Ex Fabula’s mission to connect Milwaukee through real stories. I'm Kim Shine.

Joel Dresang: And I'm Joel Dresang. Ex Fabula believes that everybody has personal stories worth sharing. And so Ex Fabula conducts storytelling workshops where folks can build their skills and their confidence. And they also host story slams where true tales are shared on stage. And today we are bringing you four of those stories.

Kim Shine: This season of Real Stories MKE is presented by Christine Symchych and Jim McNulty, and our theme for this episode is “Memories”. So memories are stories of our past essentially. And they're from recent times or from years ago. They're of people and experiences that we've known that can rekindle joy, help define our fears, failures, friendships, our successes. And ultimately, for me at least, they let me know that when we can acknowledge and appreciate our past, we can learn how to better enjoy our present.

Our first story is a fun one from Brooke Maroldi from Ex Fabula’s “Nitty gritty” StorySlam back in May 2015. Brooke tells the memories of her mother’s love of the little white lie, and how that and some pretty cool celebrity stories eventually bonded them in a way that only life can design. Here's Brooke.

Brooke Maroldi: My mom is a little Sicilian lady who speaks with a big Brooklyn accent. She lives in new Jersey, and ever since that state legalized medical marijuana, she likes to hit the vaporizer now and then. Kind of like a hipper version of Sophia on the Golden Girls. When I was growing up, mom said it was okay to tell little white lies if it was for the greater good or to spare someone's feelings.

But it got confusing when the white lies were about me. Once I heard her telling some of her friends that she had taken me to hear the Beatles play at Shea Stadium in New York. Mom, now, there was always a little bit of truth mixed in with the white lies. Yes, we had been to Shea Stadium. Yes, the Beatles performed there, but no, we didn't go to that concert.

When I asked her about it later, she just shrugged and said, yeah, what's a little bullshit among friends? Clearly, mom operated under some kind of secret white lie guidelines that shifted according to her whims. So I did what any teenager would do. I rebelled. I told the truth. No matter who or what, it hurt. That was my code.

As mom got older., the white lies got a little weirder, a little more elaborate. But we usually just laughed it off because they were about things that were truly insignificant. Like how she met Richard Nixon while shopping for office supplies, or that she was a codebreaker during World War Two.

But sometimes they weren't funny and they weren't insignificant. 15 years ago, she told me she was getting a biopsy on a tiny little lump in her left breast. She said it was no big deal. So when my brother called me with the results, I was totally unprepared. She'd had a radical mastectomy because she had stage four breast cancer.

Mom, the white light code had gone into effect. She was trying to protect me. “I didn't want to worry you.” I went out and stayed with her as she underwent brutal treatments. Chemo, radiation. But that old broad is tough. One day, I woke up to find that she had shaved her own head rather than passively watch her own hair fall out every day.

And when she didn't feel like wearing a wig, she said, you know, I'm luckier than most people. I look pretty good bald. And she did. Right around that time, she received a form letter from Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. They were fundraising for a World War Two veterans memorial in Washington, D.C.. Mom wrote a check and proceeded to get obsessed with World War Two.

Now, it made me think that maybe she was thinking back to a time when the good guys were victorious. Or maybe she was comparing fighting cancer in her body with the world fighting the Nazis. She was even more ecstatic to find that the memorial was funded than she was when she got the test results back, saying she was cancer free.

A couple of years ago, she was finally well enough to come out for a visit over Thanksgiving. She had been through open heart surgery and hip replacement, but her hair had grown back and even though she was still frail, she was in great spirits. I was really looking forward to introducing her to a few of my new friends, many of whom are actors and musicians.

And when they came over, she would hold court, telling them stories about all the famous celebrities she hung out with as a young woman. Now I do have photographic evidence that she did, in fact, meet Frank Sinatra backstage at the Paramount Theater in Brooklyn. That actually happened. But she was telling stories of riding trolley cars with people like Ella Fitzgerald and Jackie Robinson.

Yes, those people were in Brooklyn. Yes, my mom rode the trolleys, but there's no proof that that stuff happened because I didn't. I called my brother because I was starting to worry. He had heard all of this before and wasn't concerned. On Thanksgiving Day, there was my mom, center stage, talking about the war and the memorial and the letter from Hanks and Spielberg.

She claimed that she personally had gotten 50,000 signatures on a petition to urge Congress to fund the memorial. Okay, so she exaggerated, I’ll let it go, but there was more. Apparently, Hanks and Spielberg got wind of this, and they were so impressed that they decided to take a drive to Hackettstown, New Jersey. And out of the blue, they knocked on my mom's door to personally thank her for her fine work.

So, Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks, and my mom hung out together for the afternoon. They had coffee and cake. I was like, mom, I didn't want to embarrass her at dinner. And I chalked up this latest round of knots of white lies to the festivities of the day and the vaporizer. But the next day, I asked her very specific questions about that infamous visit, and she dodged them all.

I was getting like, just mom, why didn't you call me? Why didn't you put them on the phone? I would have loved to have talked to them. And she said, well, you know, they're very private people. I needed to respect that. Besides, I didn't want to brag.

I called my brother again. No sooner were the names Hanks and Spielberg out of my mouth when he just said, “Oh, that story. You never heard that one before?” No, I hadn't, and I was getting flustered. Did Martin know what she was doing? I talked to some of my friends about it. They thought it was sweet and adorable like her.

They admired her creativity. What's the harm in it, hey said. And really, what's the harm in my mom telling a few stories like this? In some ways, it's like she's creating a new personal mythology for herself without being burdened by annoying things like the facts. The point is, this is where she is. So when she tells me something that I don't believe to be true, I don't argue with her or try to correct her.

Because if she believes it, is it a lie? Even a white lie? But now I find myself in a bit of a truth quandary. Six months ago, I was extremely lucky. I was diagnosed with stage one breast cancer, but unlike my mom, it really was a tiny little lump. I had surgery. I'm going to be fine. Don't worry about me.

But my quandary, my dilemma. The nitty gritty of this is, do I tell my 88 year old mother, who has a thin grasp on reality, that I have cancer and I'm going through treatment? What good could that possibly do her or me? Maybe it's time to revisit my original white— my original truth code. And maybe it's time to adopt mom's original white lie guidelines.

If telling a little lie can spare her from worrying about me, what's the harm in that? And maybe it's time for me to come up with a new personal mythology for myself. So when I call my mom, this new personal mythology goes like this. Hi, mom. How are you doing? La la la. I'm great. Everything's great here. Hey, mom, did I ever thank you for taking me to see the Beatles at Shea Stadium?

That was amazing. That's my new truth. And besides, what's a little bullshit among friends? Thank you. Bless you.

Kim Shine: So, that was Brooke Maroldi, and I really loved her story. That's—I wanted to start with it first because I thought it was super hilarious and just very genuine. It's like, hey, you know, just let her have her memories. And then also just you join in on that.

Joel Dresang: Yes. And and sometimes somebody's remembering something as she says. I mean, it doesn't hurt anybody.

Kim Shine: No.

Joel Dresang: We'll just let that story go on.

Kim Shine: Yeah.

Joel Dresang: Our next “Memory” story comes from Sam Trader during the “Fierce” StorySlam in March 2019. As a kid, Sam used to be afraid of thunderstorms, but thanks to his dad, he found a unique way to get through stormy weather. Here's Sam.

Sam Trader: When I was like, little, I don't know the exact age range, but I used to be absolutely terrified of thunderstorms. And you know, wind and other stuff like that. You know, weather phenomenon, you know, [I was] so afraid that it was like “La la la la la la la la la la la, I can't hear you” kind of kind of fear. But I as I grew older, I started to work on this fear like, you know, starting to, to research these phenomena, you starting to not let the fear take hold of me and more or less me controlling the fear and an event that I can—

A couple of events that I remember, were one was when I was about eight and this happened up north, in, little town called Berlin, Wisconsin. My father owned a farm at that, in that location, and I just happened to be there at that time. And so, it started to rain and it was there was thunder off in the distance.

I was a little worried and anxious about that. But it was also sunny at the time, and I don't know how many times I've seen that occur in my lifetime. Of course I'm young, so it's just. But that's neither here nor there. So usually I would have been inside, lying on the couch with pillows over my ears because of the thunder and the lightning.

But I decided that I was going to go out and walk and, you know, do activities in the rain, because why not? And so then I just me and my dad, we danced around, ran around, you know, the stereotypical eight year old just kind of having too much energy and not really any outlet. And of course, after that, a real thunderstorm came in and I clutched a flashlight like it was my only saving grace.

Then about a year or so after that, this also involves my dad. It was, he just simply told me to, just take a couple of deep breaths and, you know, just calm. Calm yourself down, stop your heart from racing and just let it let let it run its course. And, I would like to think that that helped me kind of get, a better control over what what my fear once was.

And then I started to get better at controlling my own fears. And so all of this culminates in last summer. I was able to, go storm chasing around, on, Oklahoma and Texas. And now I'm afraid that a tornado will, prematurely end my life.

Joel Dresang: That was Sam Trader from a 2019 Ex Fabula StorySlam.

Kim Shine: So, Joel.

Joel Dresang: What?

Kim Shine: It's that time.

Joel Dresang: UltraShorts?!

Kim Shine: Yes!

Joel Dresang: Okay, tell us what they are.

Kim Shine: The UltraShorts are... if you are at an event and you don't want to get on stage, you can still be part of the fun by putting a little short story on a piece of paper for the hosts to read.

Joel Dresang: I've got one from George “In high school, I had the same locker and combination for three years. Midday, I went to my locker and forgot my combination. Go to the office for help? F that! I walked out of the school.”

Kim Shine: No? Okay. This one is from anonymous. “1960, sunny day in the prairie lands of Illinois. Grandma and Uncle Jim had come to visit and we decided to all pile into the Buick and go for a ride by the lake. As we drove along, we suddenly realized that my five year old sister wasn't with us. We had somehow forgotten her, so we hurried back and found her crying on the back steps.

 Not so mad about us leaving without her, but mad because she had run home from a nearby park and had to go. We all lived with the guilt of that for a long time.”

Joel Dresang: Goodness. Here's an UltraShort from Curt. “My mom has Alzheimer's. Frequently we have the same conversation for a long time because she forgets. That's okay. Because she's my mom.”

Kim Shine: Well, our third story comes from a familiar voice to this show, my co-host Joel Dresang, how about that? Well, family bonds are important to Joel, if you know him. But as we all know, sometimes connections must form in their own time. And Joel shared this memory at Ex Fabula’s “Acquired Taste” Slam in March of 2017. Here's Joel.

Scotch leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's what my dad drank. It tastes like medicine. Like topical medicine. Not the kind that you put in your mouth. The kind you put on a carbuncle.

And as many times as I told my dad, as I declined scotch, my dad always invited me to join him for scotch.

Scotch was just one of the things that my dad was always trying to share with me that I shunned. He was a good golfer. In the depression, he was a caddie at a golf course, and he took whatever clubs he found in the lost and found, and he taught himself to golf, and he became an assistant pro. And he always wondered...

He was always trying to get me to take up golf. That's where the deals are made, he'd say, that's where you can schmooze your boss. But I declined. I declined to take chemistry in high school just because dad eventually became a chemist. He started working in the paper mill and got a job in the lab, and eventually worked his way up to supervisor.

And he couldn't understand why I didn't want to take chemistry, the central science. He just didn't understand that we didn't share the same tastes. He liked tinkering and gardening. I like the Packers and TV.

One of my first memories was crawling up on dad's lap and wrapping my little arm around his neck and sharing hugs and kisses and I love you's. I had these plastic barrels. They were like, Russian nesting dolls. And, my dad was smoking after dinner one night, and he took one of the barrels and he blew some smoke in it and sealed the barrel up.

And I ran with it into the kitchen where my mom was washing dishes. And I opened it up, and this big cloud of smoke came out, and my mom gasped and she coughed and I laughed. So. My dad stopped smoking after the surgeon general said it wasn't good for your health. I can remember when we stopped the kisses and the I love you's.

As I got older, I involved myself in more extracurricular activities so that I'd have excuses to decline dad's invitations to go fishing with him or to help him work on the car. He took a lot of pride in the car, and when I got old enough, he was always asking me if I wanted to take it and I declined.

I'd rather walk. One time he took me deer hunting with him. We got up really early in the morning and went to my Aunt Rosie's farm and got in the cold and in the dark and situated ourselves in a strategic spot. And my dad got all settled and his gun at the ready, and he looked at me and he said, “Wake me if you see anything.”

After a while, a deer approached. a buck, a big buck. It was awesome. Step by step, I watched it come closer and I glanced at my dad and he's still a snooze. The big buck came closer and closer, and dad was snoring softly. When we got into the house for lunch, my cousins said, Uncle Nubs, how come you didn't shoot at that big buck that we sent your way?

Everybody saw it headed right toward you. And my dad looked at me and I just shrugged.

I wasn't the defiant kid or disrespectful or discourteous, but I know now that I was another obnoxious, obstinate adolescent. Over time and distance, I grew to appreciate my dad. He was a good guy. He was good to seven kids. He loved our mom. He went out of his way for strangers. When he was young, he planted forests for the Civilian Conservation Corps and he fought in the World War.

In his retirement, he took meals to the homeless and he built Habitats for Humanity. He served in the Honor Guard for countless numbers of veterans funerals and.

Of course, by the time I recognized all that, I had already squandered all those chances to get to know him. I had already declined all those invitations to do things with him, and I know how much that would have meant to him then, and how much it would have meant to me now. And I don't put stock in regrets because you can't change what's been.

But I try to be a better son by trying to be a better father and a better husband, and trying to be more like my dad. It was a few days after his birthday, when I got a call that they were situating him into a hospice center, and his heart stopped for good. I got there and my sister Karen had a bottle of my dad's scotch, and she poured me a glass and I drank to his life and his passing.

And it's still hard to swallow.

So, when I saw that you chose that story, I was a little nervous.

Kim Shine: Yeah.

Joel Dresang: That wasn't an easy story to tell, but it was so gratifying. I had this epiphany from that, that sharing one's personal story, especially when it's difficult, maybe, is powerful because it connects with people. People relate to it.

Kim Shine: Yeah.

Joel Dresang: After that StorySlam people, waited for the StorySlam to be over, to come up to me, to tell me that they were going home to call their father.

Yeah. When one woman said that she brought her nephews to the StorySlam and they have a difficult relationship with their father, and she just watched them as as I was on stage. Our final story for this episode comes from Dot Hamlin-Garcia. Dot that shared a story of a good time, good food, and a big place on a 17th birthday.

This story is from Ex Fabula’s May 2024 Teen StorySlam where the theme was “Left No Crumbs.” Here's Dot.

Dot Hamlin-Garcia: So, mine is about going to a big place. A big fancy place that I haven't been to. I've only been to it once, actually. Now, it was for my 17th birthday. So as a kid, we. I grew up in California. I was born here, but I grew up in California, and California has high rent per se and a huge amount of population and poverty.

My heart goes out to them. During this time, like, we would, like, get small stuff, but not as big stuff as we do now. And when I came here, like, my mom having a better job source was such a big deal to us, especially since we were able to do a lot more. And then my aunt comes into the picture, too.

My aunt likes to spoil me. She is on my father's side. My heart goes out to her, too, and she would treat me a lot to these, like, restaurants. And she would let me see my dad's side of the family. And I remember this one time, during my 17th birthday. Or let's fast forward to my 17th birthday, I guess.

She took she was like, well, where do you want to go before we go to the aquarium? Because I wanted to go to the aquarium in Chicago, the Shedd Aquarium, specifically. And I was like, I don't know. And she was like, why not go to the Sugar Factory? I was like, I've never been there. And she was like, that's okay, because we do that for the experience.

And while I was there, I got to experience nice stuff such as, like this vividly green matcha drink. Turned my insides green, for sure. And I got to, like, have a really good experience with food and this like, during this time she saw, like, there are other birthdays going around, and she saw this person get, like, an ice cream tray and a fire. Little, I guess fire work. On their ice cream.

And she wanted that for me. So she was like, I would like to order this one for my, niece or nephew, whichever one. Definitely. And they were like, okay. She was like, I would also like to add the, the little, little sprinkles, sparkler. Yeah. Thank you. And within that time, like they said, it was $5. She was like, that's okay with me.

And during, like, when they came and saying happy birthday, I jumped like, so hard because they just went with a big clap and then started singing. But it was such a nice experience because I got to feel special within that moment. And when my aunt took a picture near the end of it, she sent it to one of my cousins, and one of my cousins said “They could smile a little bit more.”

I did, per se. This was probably the best experience within the time where I got to go to a, an expensive place. Thank you.

Joel Dresang: That was Dot Hamlin-Garcia from a 2024 Teen StorySlam.

Kim Shine: My favorite birthday, still to this day, is my 24th birthday.

Joel Dresang: So far.

Kim Shine: So far!

Joel Dresang: So far.

Kim Shine: So, I feel I have a lot more birthdays to go, hopefully. Well, guys, that's all the time we have for today for Real Stories MKE. But don't you fret. Ex Fabula has been at this since 2009, and so there are more audio and video stories available at exfabula.org.

Joel Dresang: That's right. The Ex Fabula website lists upcoming storytelling workshops and StorySlams. Check it out and make some plans to come and make some memories by telling your own stories. You can also connect with Ex Fabula on Facebook, Instagram and TikTok, and you can find real stories MKE wherever you get podcasts.

Kim Shine: That is right. We'd also like to thank everyone who makes this program possible, including Ex Fabula staff, the storytellers, all of our youth programing funders including Milwaukee Rec Partnership for the Arts and Humanities and Milwaukee Arts board, producer Jordan Terry and audio engineer Sam Woods.

Joel Dresang: For Real Stories MKE. I'm Joel Dresang.

Kim Shine: I'm Kim Shine. Thanks for listening. And don't forget everybody has a story to share, so please consider sharing yours.

The hosts of "Real Stories MKE" are Joel Dresang and Kim Shine.