Sunday, February 20, 2011

What Ever Happened To . . . Jack and Jill?

Jack and Jill: The Myth
In the early 1960's, the town of Windsor Locks wasn't much more than a quaint rural village on the Connecticut River.  Main Street, the home of local businesses such as Patterson's Pharmacy, Dapper Dan's Dry Cleaners, and Combes's Barber Shop (yes, it was his real name), was six blocks long and displayed exactly two traffic lights.   Like most small town residents, Windsor Locksians were a tight-knit community who had known each other all their lives.  In fact, Shirley Graham, the 85-year old kindergarten teacher at Windsor Locks Elementary School, bragged that she was the only teacher in the country who had taught four generations of the same family (the Cormans: John, kindergarten class of 1901; Michael, class of 1922; fraternal twins Charles and Claire, class of '41; Phillip, class of '63).

Jack Liszewski and Jill Murphy, 1963
At the center of town stood Barrett Hill, its steep slope making it a popular location for roller skating in the springtime and sledding during the snowy New England winters.  On warm quiet evenings, teenage boys and girls would often venture up the hill to "fetch a pail of water."  This phrase was actually a euphemism for making out, coined in the 40's when another pair of adolescent lovers did indeed go up a hill with the intent of drawing water from the well.  One thing led to another, though, and the pair came down the hill with not just the water, but also with flushed faces, hickeys, and, depending on your view about when life truly begins, a beautiful baby daughter.

Jack Liszewski and Jill Murphy were sixteen-year old high school sweethearts, and up to this point in their relationship their physical intimacy was limited to hand-holding and light kissing (Jack called it first base, Jill called it third).  Jack's buddies, most of whom had already hit the proverbial home run by anybody's definition, ranked Jack out constantly.

"Hey, Liszewski, when's your girlfriend gonna finally give you some?"

"Hey, Jack, what time's Jill due back at the convent?"

"Got another late night rendezvous with your right fist again, Jackie boy?"

Jack hung out with a bunch of assholes, basically.

Peer pressure being what it is, one summer afternoon in 1964, he decided it was time to take Jill up Barrett Hill to "fetch a pail of water."  Jill, unaware of Jack's expectations, packed a nice picnic lunch of deviled ham sandwiches, cole slaw and Orange Crush.  When they arrived at hilltop, Jack spread a blanket out in the shade of an oak and invited Jill to have a seat next to him.  After finishing their lunch, Jack initiated the kissing, as usual, and after a minute or two he made his move, caressing the side of Jill's right breast with his fingertips.  Jill slammed on the brakes immediately.

"Jack, you know I'm not ready for that yet.  Hands to yourself!"

"Aw, come on, Jill, we've been together for over a year now.  I'm starting to feel like Little Boy Blue Balls."

Put off by Jack's offensive language, Jill stood up to leave.  "Well, if that's all you're interested in, maybe you should find another girlfriend.  I'm sure Jessica Muffet is available, that tramp.  Rumor has it that she went all the way with Jack Horner after the Sadie Hawkins dance.  He stuck in something, and it sure wasn't his thumb."

"I'm not interested in Horner's sloppy seconds, Jill, I'm in love with you," he exaggerated, hoping that by expressing his deep devotion, his girlfriend would loosen up a little.

She didn't.

"I like being with you too, Jack.  Come give me a hug."

He hugged her all right, and while he was at it, Jack went for broke and grabbed Jill's exquisite behind with both hands and pulled her closer.  When Jill felt Jack's arousal digging into her thigh, she screamed and shoved him backwards.  Off balance, Jack tripped over an exposed root (the tree's) and fell all the way to the base of Barrett Hill, where he cracked his skull on the sidewalk.  As Jill ran down to check on him, she too lost her footing and tumbled downhill.  Fortunately, she did not suffer any injuries.

All the king's horses and all the king's men rushed to help . . . wait, no, sorry . . . the Windsor Locks Rescue Squad arrived moments later, and inexplicably tried to mend Jack's bashed-in noggin with vinegar and brown paper.  They transported the unconscious teen to Hartford General Hospital, where the E.R. triage nurse mocked the paramedics' attempts at first aid and immediately had Jack taken to the operating room.  The surgeons tried their best to save the boy, but due to severe swelling of the brain caused by a cerebral hemorrhage, Jack Liszewski died on the table.

Sister Jill Murphy became a nun in 1966, and spent the next thirty years teaching catechism classes at Our Lady of Perpetual Resistance in New Haven.  She died in 1996.


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LilPixi said...

That's messed up, and a crazy story.
I guess Jill really had her reasons for becoming a nun.

Linda Kish said...

I always wondered what really happened.

Eva Gallant said...

Your creativity never ceases to amaze me! This is one of your best "whatever happened tos" yet!

EmptyNester said...

Thanks for clearing up THAT mystery. LOL

J.J. in L.A. said...

I like your version WAY better.

The Good Cook said...

AWWW... I wish Jack could've made it.

Suldog said...

I always knew there was more to that story than most of us thought! Thanks for giving us the inside scoop!

injaynesworld said...

Damn, you're good! Loved this. I bow to your awesomeness and back my inadequate ass slowly from the room.

roughneckturtle/Jeff C. said...

Althought I had to stay in the Boy's wing, and only saw her at meal time. I wondered if the rumors about Sister Murphy were true. lol

Linda Medrano said...

I understand this so well. I was just like Jill in 1963, but I did not become a nun, and the guy didn't fall or die, and we did not go up the hill to fetch a pail of water at all. Other than those details, it's my life story.

If I Were God... said...

I just (finally) expanded my 'gotta-reads' sidebar gadget, and you're in it. Very deservedly.

Anonymous said...

Jack liszewski is my name

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