The Formative Years

First Communion
(the sun was shining in my eyes and the veil was piercing my skull)

My name is Katherine Mary Balonis. If I gave you my complete full name, I'd have to start a new paragraph.
I was born a small child on January 4, 1958 at Nazareth Hospital in Philadelphia, PA. I was supposed to be a Christmas baby, but wanted to wait 'til after the holidays so my family would be able to get me great clearance items that didn't sell during the holidays for birthday gifts. Even in the womb I was a considerate person. My first memory is of being at a relatives wedding, dressed in velvet and standing on a big stage singing. I had the attention of everyone at the reception and I knew it! I was 2 years old.

I had a wonderful childhood in NorthEast Philly (Mayfair) along with my brother Dennis and sister Eileen. I attended St. Timothy Parochial School through 8th grade and made quite a reputation for myself with the nuns. Oh how they loved me! I was a member of the school choir, and a "candy girl" in 7th and 8th grades.

We spent a lot of time at my grandparents (Balonis) house visiting. They were world travelers and always brought us the best souvenirs. Clothes from England during the height of the Beatles, native drums from Africa, (my parents were just thrilled about that),and pearl jewelry from Majorca just to name a few. Their trips had lasting effects on us...after they returned from Hawaii, my grandfather Joseph made us do the hula every time we came over. I remember standing on the basement steps (always needing a stage) while they sang "There goes Kathy and the way she does the Hula-Ha, there goes Kathy and the way she does the Hula-Ha, there goes Kathy and the way she does the Hula-Ha, Huuuula-Ha!". It was loads of fun for the first eight months but after that it grew tedious.

Being a normal girl, I played with Barbie dolls but with an older brother, I incorporated GI Joe who would come to visit Barbie. An argument would ensue about Ken between Joe and Barbie and GI Joe always wound up torching Barbie/Ken or both. There was quite a Mattel cemetery in my best friends garden!

I ran away from home when I was in 2nd grade. I don't remember why exactly, but my mother really upset me when I was home for lunch. I went to my room, wrote a loooong goodbye letter that was just chock-full of "your ex-daughter" lines. When it was time to go back to school for the afternoon, I left as usual and slipped the letter through the mail slot in the front door. GOODBYE!!!
I paid no attention at school. I was planning my future. I asked Mary Francis Ryan if her Dad would take me to the closest orphanage. She was one of the few kids at school who got picked up by car...the rest of us walked home. She said he would be glad too! Okay. I figured a nice family who would give me everything I wanted would find me irresistable and take me home with them that night. As the end of school neared (I didn't even write down my homework for that night), I got jittery about Mr. Ryan driving me to the orphanage. He'd probably take me right home into the seething kingdom of my mother. Not me! I left school and walked to Pat's candy store 4 blocks away. It was raining but I had my shiny read patent leather shoes on (they looked just like Dorothy's in the Wizard of Oz) and my red umbrella with the pony on the handle and .75 on top of that. I could live and eat for a week! I bought a big soft pretzel, a water ice and bubble gum. I was good to go! The rain kept falling and it was getting close to dinner time. It was getting dark and I was cold. I hung in there. I sat my bookcase down under a big elm tree, scrunched up on it and ate my pretzel. I gave up when I saw the first car with headlights on coming down the street. I'm not allowed to be out when that happens and I have to go to the bathroom! I didn't figure that into my grand plan. I gathered my things, and headed home. Lights were on in the houses. I started crying. I crossed the street to my house and walked into a huge puddle. My feet were soaked. There were leaves and dirt all over my bookbag and raincoat. My hair was wet and stringy. As I walked up my front steps I collected myself for the disaster that was about to befall me. I walked in and called cheerfully "I'm home!"
My brother came running down the steps and punched me. Mom had him searching the neighborhood for 3 hours. I told him he didn't search too hard cause I was right up the street! He punched me again and told me to shut up. My mother came out from the kitchen and stood there for what seemed like forever. (insert music from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly here). She walked slowly towards me and wrapped her arms around me. We both started crying as she told me that if I ever did that again she would take me to the Good Shepard Home for Wayward Girls then hire a hit on me. All was right with the world again!

I was a Girl Scout like every other girl in my neighborhood. Most of those years my mother was one of the leaders of the troop. It's hard to make stuff for your Mom at meetings and surprise her that way. She finally burned out and two new leaders took over. Miss Mazza was also a teacher at my grade school. Meetings continued, and one day, after school was dismissed, Miss Mazza called me into her classroom. She told me I was evil, possessed by Satan, made her life a living nightmare and she kicked me out of the troop. She was crying and in my memory, foaming at the mouth. I went home kind of surprised and told my mother. That same evening, Miss Mazza and the other leader came to my house to apologize and reinstate me into the troop. My mother called me downstairs from my room and after all the apologies and tears, I told Miss Mazza to drop dead and went back to my room. The next day, the entire school was buzzing with talk about Miss Mazza. She was taken to the emergency room that night and admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Oops!!

Maryanne Weaver (best friend) and I went through a summer in 4th grade where we wanted to be nuns. We made our habits and had prayer sessions each day. As I grew older, the calling stayed with me. I was on the road to a vocation! Then I discovered boys.
 

Halloween

Halloween was great for me! I remember my parents bringing my sister home from the hospital (after she was born...I didn't send her to the ER til much later) on or around Halloween. I wasn't very impressed with this skinny crying thing but I saw the opportunity for a candy windfall. My brother went out trick-or-treating with his friends, I went with mine. At every door in the neighborhood I told them that my Mom just brought my new sister home from the hospital and asked for candy for her. Bingo! Candy was flying into my bag. I had to go home 5 or 6 times to unload and hit the streets again!
The next year, we received little orange boxes to collect for UNICEF. Being in a Catholic school, the nuns really pushed the poverty and despair these children were living in. We were told to collect pennies to send to them. Okay...not a problem. I went out with my friends and they did the "Trick or Treat...Pennies for UNICEF" at every door as we were told to do. They got their pennies. I stepped up to the door and explained in great detail the "poverty and despair" these children were living in. No pennies for me...I got the silver and green and extra candy to boot! I had to go home several times to empty my UNICEF box and my bag. I had a dilemma though...I was only to collect pennies...what was Sister Vincentia going to do to me? After sorting through my candy on the living room floor, I stole away to my room with the UNICEF pitcher and separated the silver and green from the pennies. Stashed everything but the pennies in my Barbie case and reloaded the box with the pennies. Got a lunch bag from my mother for the extra and took it to school. I wound up collecting the most money in my class and had candy money for the next year.

My first love was Tom Sutcliffe who lived on the block down from mine. He was only a few days older than me and a total cutie! We were both 12. Thanks Tom for giving me my first kiss! After I dumped him, my real true love was the neighbor of my new best friend (Joanne Garitanno), Bob Reed. I was in 8th grade, he was attending Holy Ghost Boys Preparatory High School. I drove that poor guy crazy and we broke up when my father was transferred to Bloomington, IL in the summer of 1972.

I never cared for sports much until I was recruited by my brother and his friends to be the goalie for their street hockey team. I was invincible! My mother wasn't thrilled about the cuts and bruises I got, but she understood that there was no way I was going to let the older boys get a puck past me. She finally demanded my brother make me protective gear. He took me into the garage, and proceeded to make me shin guards, arm guards and a chest pad out of old carpet padding. Then he cut the front off a Prestone Anti-Freeze bottle and made me one killer face mask. A big roll of duct tape worked great to hold everything on me and I was set! My only relatively serious injury after that was a slap shot that caught my neck dead center and put me down. But by god, it didn't get past me! We added carpet padding to the bottom of the face mask. Problem solved!
 

The Teenage Years

my first true love, "Reed" who came to visit me in Illinois

I was 14, headed into my Sophomore year at St. Huberts Catholic High School, head over heels in love with "Reed" when the news hit. We were moving! To Illinois! Nobody voluntarily moves to Illinois! My brother was about to start his Freshman year at Temple University and wanted to stay so my parents bribed him to go. I didn't have a vote. I was history.
After a housing trip, my mother told us about our new house. In Philly we lived in a row home with 3 bedrooms, one bath, basement, that sort of thing. We were moving to a house that wasn't connected to anything, we each had our own bedrooms, it had a family room with fireplace, sounded great! Excitement (to a degree) ensued. We left Philly and I'll always remember it as my first painful "leaving". I've hated "leavings" ever since. We tranquilized the dog, put her in the car with us, left my maternal grandparents crying in the doorway and headed to the airport.

This was our first time on an airplane. Wow! I didn't have the fear of flying that I have now, I had no common sense then, and this was too much fun! They checked on Tara (our dog) and gave us updates and even gave us a meal! The trip to Chicago was uneventful until we saw the plane that would take us to Bloomington. Uh-oh.

The jet we had flown on from Philly to Chicago was wonderful. When it was time to board our flight to Bloomington, we had to walk onto the runway and there before us was what was to become called a "puddle jumper" by my parents. Walking up the shaky steps, I'm seated by the window and I see frayed ropes hanging from the tires under the wings. Uh-oh. My brother tells me they are to keep the plane tied down when it's windy and to prevent lightning strikes. Uh-oh.

As we are preparing for arrival in Bloomington, we all marveled at HOW GREEN IT WAS!! We were used to concrete and a couple trees in Philly. It hurt my eyes! Found out on the ride to the Holiday Inn, that it was all corn fields. Uh-oh.

I attended then graduated from Bloomington High School in 1975. I was #20 in my class of 400 because they seated us alphabetically at the ceremony. My high school years were uneventful once I got the hang of how Public Schools worked. So much freedom! I did have problems initially because of my age. We started school earlier in Philly and they wanted me to repeat Freshman year simply because if I didn't I would be much younger than the others in my class. We refused. Another problem was my accent. I was kicked out of my Spanish II class because I didn't use the accent they taught. I learned Castilian Spanish in Philly. Oh well, didn't like the teacher anyway. I did complete the Spanish classes though. It was difficult, but I doubled up the next two years. Donde esta la cerveza fria?

After graduation, I decided college wasn't for me (duh, Kate). I got a job (thanks Dad and Den!) at General Electric as an Accumulator. Just so happens my brother was promoted and it was his old position. Go figure! I "accumulated" all the parts necessary to build whatever they made there. I also met a friend of my brothers, Trini who could do this amazing bending thingy with his thumb and we dated for awhile (pic above) and oh! I got to drive a forklift too! My brother and Wayne took me behind the factory to give me driving lessons and we had great fun. I only killed one bird! After they felt relatively safe around me, they named my forklift "The Dingaling Express". I think it's still written on it to this day!

The Chicago Years (aka The Lost Disco Years)

Champion Mud Volleyball Team
Bloomington, IL
1980
(I'm in the front, 3rd from left)

There's so much more to tell you about!