For all the Graduates

 

I’ve been going through old family photographs and I came across this one. It’s from my mother’s graduation day in 1945.

My mother always spoke fondly of her college days, even when she sang this funny little song--

We are the girls from dear old Weylister,

there’s not a man on our darn register

and every night at eight they lock the gate…

I know it sounds terribly old-fashioned, but my mother truly loved her days at Weylister Secretarial College. Along with college classes in the the humanities and languages, she learned typing, shorthand—the proper way to greet guests, answer phones and take messages. Penmanship. Weylister also offered classes in beauty and style, the social graces—etiquette and poise. Yes, my mother learned to walk while balancing a book on her head.

Weylister’s classes were held in a 19^th century mansion (you can see it in the picture’s background) in Milford, Connecticut, her home town. Milford is not far from Yale University in New Haven—filled with all those brainy young men--including my father. He was in the V-12 program, training to be a Naval officer. This was at the start of World War II. An exciting time to be young.

Also, a dangerous time. My mother and her cohort of Weylister girls (all with excellent posture and a knowledge of French) attended many dances and met many boys. They would arrive on the scene, attend a USO dance, go for a picnic at the Yale Bowl. Maybe go to the movies to see Meet Me in St. Louis with Judy Garland, or perhaps walk to Pepe’s for pizza--and then before long these boys were sent overseas, and then they would either come back or not come back. One of my mother’s boyfriends never came back.

But, my father did come back, and in 1946, he arrived at her doorstep and said I’m back! Won’t you marry me?

And the rest is history.

Creative Friends—This is how life works. There will be tumult. Unexpected events, a surprise invitation, tragedy, the sad reckoning. Tears. In between all this, there will be sweet things--dances and picnics, French grammar and lessons in poise. Separations and sadness. Reunions and tears. Along the way—suddent changes, new characters. Laughter. New beginnings.

Knowing this, don’t turn back, but rather—go forth bravely with your your heart—open.

Happy Graduate Day to everyone!

Love,

Jamie