We know so little about Irving’s childhood, compared to Alzada’s, and I'm so sorry that I wasn't more curious while he was with us. I think, in part, Irving never talked about his childhood because he didn’t grow up in a happy home.
We don't have a single existing photo of Irving before he was driving a car – no happy baby pictures, no adorably awkward school photos, no Christmas postcards with his sisters, Irene and Joan, or their parents.
Irving's father, John Cecil Cross (known as Cecil), was a crafty electrician, once described by Alzada with just one word – “mean.” But I feel compelled to give my grandfather Cecil a pass, because his childhood wasn’t very happy either. Cecil was just a toddler in 1902 when his mother, Angelina, sailed with him and his five siblings across the Atlantic from Lancashire, England to join her husband, Cecil’s father Thomas Cross, in Boston. Angelina died just one year later, leaving little Cecil motherless.
By contrast, Irving was the kindest person I have ever known and, luckily for everybody who was privileged to know him, his personality was nothing like his father’s. Indeed, the only commonality was their craft at inventing and fixing things, and their careers as electricians.
Cecil forced Irving to quit school at age 15 and sent him to live with a family friend and work at the Naval Torpedo Station on Goat Island in Newport, RI, where materials for the Navy, such as torpedoes and torpedo equipment, were developed and built.
While we don't have photos of young Irving, we're lucky to have a copy of his ninth-grade report card from Henry Ford Junior High School, which he attended from 1941 to 1942 before his father made him drop out.
Note the “A's” for personal appearance, courtesy, and cooperation, and his very high marks in math and science. Also note the “C” in self-control – he was always the one to have fun, even then!
When Irving reached 18, the legal age to serve, he enlisted in the United States Army, signing papers in Boston on December 13, 1945 and serving until April 1947. He also became a licensed electrician when he was 18, and worked with his father for a while
Of course, in 1949, Irving met Alzada, and the rest is history.
Utterly unlike his own father, Irving grew up to be a loving husband and the adoring father of children who stayed, and brought their friends, and always came home to be with him and bask in his unconditional love.
Alzada’s earliest and most vivid memory is from when she was just 18 months old. On the freezing-cold night of Feb. 2, 1928, she huddled in her mother’s arms in their Durfee Street home, crying and gagging on smoke, as the Great Fire of Fall River ravaged the city.
Alzada was subjected to a daily hairdressing ordeal she grew to hate. Susan spent a lot of time fussing over her daughter’s hair, using her fingers to form big, thick banana curls that were in style at the time. This ritual took place every single morning for years.
Little Alzada much preferred her dad's fun, free-spirited Weaver relatives to her mom's more formal, proper Gifford relatives. Mom loved her aunts and uncles on both sides, but as a child, she felt most at home with her down-to-earth Weaver extended family.
Alzada has a beautiful singing voice, and when she was in elementary school, she sang a solo in front of her class, a popular song at the time called, "When I Grow Too Old to Dream." It was an odd choice for a child, as it’s very mature and emotional – for a 10-year-old, at least.
Alzada's mother Susan was strict and protective. Alzada was her only daughter, and was forbidden to date or wear makeup until long after her friends began to do so. All of the other girls wore lipstick back then, in the mid-1940s, but Alzada had to be sneaky.
We don't have a single photo of Irving before he was driving a car – no happy baby pictures, no adorably awkward school photos, no Christmas postcards with his sisters. We’re very lucky, however, to have a copy of Irving’s ninth-grade report card from Henry Ford Junior High School.
Growing up, Alzada regularly visited her Grandmother Alzada’s gravesite, and she often saw her grandmother’s beautiful face in the one treasured photo that exists – and yet, there was no denying that Alzada Estes Weaver Cross positively HATED her first name.
Alzada's BFF Betty was born Barbara Elizabeth Wise on September 26, 1926 in Fall River. Their friendship began at Durfee High School, from which they graduated in 1944, and by the end of the ‘40s, Betty would also become Alzada’s sister-in-law – and roommate!
Alzada and Irving were attracted to each other at first sight. It was 1949 and Alzada, age 23, was working the soda fountain at the corner drugstore in Fall River. One day, a handsome pinball-playing customer caught her eye, and the rest is history.
Irving and Alzada became Mr. and Mrs. Cross on Friday, February 17, 1950. It was a freezing cold day, but the temperature doesn’t matter when you’re so much in love, and you don’t need fancy proposals and expensive frills to get married.
Though she didn’t know it at the time, Alzada’s adolescence prepared her for her future role as the mother of a big family in a small house. When Alzada was growing up there were only two beds in their small Fall River home at 733 New Boston Road.
Alzada was always a reluctant but willing victim. She would try anything. Consider the first (and LAST) time she tried to ski. It was the 1960s and we were at King Pine in Madison, NH, a family-friendly ski house with all-you-can-eat bacon for breakfast.
Irving would enter us Cross kids into track meets, even though we had no formal training whatsoever. What we did have in abundance was love and encouragement from both of our parents — and the chance to shine.
Irving was the ringleader of all the fun we had together as a family — the camping trips, the road trips, the track meets, the crazy driving around in parking lots – and Alzada was always right there with us, our biggest cheerleader – most of the time.
When our youngest brother Dana was four years old, our Mom, who was approaching 40, began a whole new career as a mechanical assembler at Raytheon, working second shift for two decades, all while being a full-time wife and mother of six children.
Irving was a kind and helpful person by nature, and during the hitchhiking craze of the 1960s–70s, he gave many different folks a lift. The most memorable and oft-told instance occurred in the summer of 1966.
There we were – me in a wheelchair and Grammy moving at the same glacial pace. With family frolicking in the pool, we both took the chance. Neither of us prepared for it, we ventured in anyway, fully clothed.
A self-aware perfectionist, Irving was no stranger to poor self-esteem and overwhelming anxiety, and we're fortunate to have a copy of the 17 handwritten affirmations he often recited to himself to deal with negative thoughts and feelings.
Saturday, Nov. 12, 2022 | Good morning, everyone. We are here today to honor Alzada’s passing and to celebrate her wonderful life – a life that touched and inspired us in so many different ways.
