After graduation from baking school in 1955, Frederick returned to Pennsylvania—but the family would move again when Frederick received a job offer as an experimental baker at Pepperidge Farm in Connecticut. They settled into a ranch-style home tucked away in a wooded neighborhood in Fairfield County. It was a secluded location, a place of refuge for Frederick, but a questionable choice for anyone with two young boys longing for friends and normalcy and with a sociable wife who missed having girlfriends around.

“My father rented a house. I think the address was Easton Road, and once you come four or five miles inland it becomes very rural,” said Chris. Their home backed up to a nearby stream. Though picturesque, it was certainly not a good choice for Stephen, who at age ten had already lived in Massachusetts, Germany, and more than one location in Pennsylvania. There were no playgrounds or baseball fields nearby where the boys could meet kids their age, and the seven-year age gap between Stephen and Chris made it difficult for them to play with each other for very long. This made for especially tedious summers.

Surprisingly, Elinor and Frederick did not spend much time or energy worrying about how Stephen and Chris acclimated to all the different homes, schools, and neighborhoods. In their minds, each time they moved they were getting closer to the track to prosperity. Frederick had found a nice house for his family, and he loved his job at Pepperidge Farm. His career began to soar and he started to make good money. It was only a matter of time before he would have everything he wanted, which he thought would be every thing his family wanted. The process of getting there, however, was plagued with long hours and emotional distance from his growing sons, who needed more of their father in their lives. Frederick, though, was focused on his family’s financial security. He was relentless in his pursuit of success, as if he was still trying to prove his father wrong.

As the children got older, Elinor and Frederick continued to avoid talking about race. People still stared at them when they got out of their car together or took a booth at a restaurant. There were looks of surprise and whispers, but they never lost their patience or their tempers with gawkers. Elinor and Frederick just focused on themselves. Their marriage was back on track, and for the first time they could feel things working out. The family enjoyed Sunday drives together in the countryside of Connecticut. And Frederick and Elinor showed their love for each other openly.

Two countries, four cities, and at least six different residences. That’s how many times Frederick and Elinor packed up and started over after their marriage in 1947. For years they shuffled between rented houses and apartments, trying to find a place that would accept them. Finally in 1959 every thing fell into place.