author

• JOURNALIST for Beach Magazine, Section: DWELLINGS ¦ SPACES AND ARCHITECTS.
  
• WRITER’S STUDIO MASTER CLASS - www.writerstudio.com, (WIP novel), coming of age.
• BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT – Clients:  African Red Tea Imports, The Polmar Group, Out of Asia .

Painting Childhood –by jennifer capo

I was dropped by a stork carrying a soft pink blanket right into the thriving city of steel, Youngstown, Ohio.   Created into this world with intention.  A decision straight out of the upper middle class “social census report” that created the fabric of my parents and their friends.   A playmate for my sister.  A second child.  An increase in financial well-being.  Home in suburbia with a garden of violets surrounding the walkway.

While the rest of the world was going hippie, experimenting with LSD, and singing songs of freedom, my parents were dancing to bebop, still talking about the return of Coco Chanel as they listened to Buddy Holly and watched ‘North by Northwest’ with Cary Grant.   It was a promising time as the predictions from the Chamber of Commerce boasted, “Youngstown offers unlimited opportunity to all.”   One of the first motorized fire trucks happened in this place.  The establishment of steel mills in the late 19th century made Youngstown a popular destination for immigrants from Eastern Europe, Italy, and Greece.  This explains my Italian Hungarian heritage.  ‘Merchants’ the papers read although my grandfather ended up underneath the ground mining coal.

My beginnings were intermingled with the toy department of Sears Roebuck thanks to my father’s climbing position in the company.   My first words were a combination of Ball Hoppers, Talky Crissy, Potty Seats, Mattel Jack in the Box, Playskool Sit n’ Spin, and Raggedy Ann.  I learned to cry and hold my breath, turn purple and stand in one place until I was hugged, held, or fed.   It always worked and I could do it for hours.    It was will against will…you will get my mommy.

It was a peak in my fathers career as we re-located three times before I was five…landing in the world of National Geographic, Apple Blossoms, Hundreds of steps that led to Abraham Lincoln, and many cracks to jump so we don’t break out mother’s backs. The real America.  All joy happened at the Chesapeake Bay Seafood House every Sunday after church.  Now, there were three of us kids dressed straight out of the 1970’s Sears Catalogue.  Mary Jane patent leather shoes, a corduroy dress with red felt flowers.

and so the story goes….