November 22, 1963

"Where were you when Kennedy was shot?"  For my generation that was the question for which we all knew the answer.  How could we ever forget?  The horror of that weekend was burned into our brains forever.

My good friend Jane had asked me to come up to Homecoming at Wesleyan.  I missed my old life so much that I jumped at the chance.  Of course, it would be different.  Linda and Bootsie had married; Anne had graduated and Kathy and Kris had left.

But I had been part of the Wesleyan family and I wanted to be part of it again if only for a weekend.  So I got on the Trailways bus and began the long, boring trip to Macon.  I got off the bus in Albany, GA, to get a Coke.

There was a strange, almost surreal atmosphere in the bus station.  People had gathered in small groups and I caught only snatches of their conversation.

"Yeah, shot through the head.  Twice I think.  Dallas."

"A motorcade.  They were all out in the open.  Secret Service was useless."

"Jackie tried to climb out the car at one point."

Jackie?

"Excuse me, what's happened?  Who was shot?"

A man stared at me.  "Why the President.  Kennedy.  I never did like him much," he said calmly.

"Is he alive?  Did he die?"

"Oh, yeah, just a little while ago."  I burst into tears.  "That S.O.B. Johnson gets to be President now."

 I walked away, still crying.  Something had broken inside me, that illusion of safety.  If someone could kill our President, then none of us was safe.  Anything could happen.  We were 

vulnerable.

I don't remember the weekend at Wesleyan at all except that everyone was in shock.  I must have ridden another bus back to Sarasota.  Lee Harvey Oswald.  Jack Ruby.  Nothing remains clear--it was a nightmare in slow motion.

I wondered if Caroline and John- John really understood  what had happened to their father.  They were so young, so small.  Thank God they could not know what lay ahead.

VENUS IN FURS in Nana's library

After nine days I was at last released from the hospital and taken at once to Nana's house to recover.  Nana had a big house and was always there so it made sense.  Nana was my dad's mother and was a devout Seventh Day Adventist.  Since my father was a devout atheist, Nana didn't say much about her religion when he was around but she loved to talk about it with me.  The golden streets of Heaven where only white Southerners resided.  The Lord sitting on a golden throne surrounded by winged angels playing golden harps. (Lots of gold in Heaven.)  Since I was confined to bed, I could not escape.  Sometimes Eva, Nana's sister-in-law, came over.  Dear Eva had a fine sense of the dramatic as she appeared at my bedroom door, hands crossed on her breasts and intoned,

"I have been speaking to God!"

I was dying to ask if God had answered, but I dared not. Aunt Eva had certainly piqued my interest.  There followed a long, rather fevered conversation between Nana and Eva which appeared to trash Yankees, Negroes, Jews, foreigners, Italians and the Holy Catholic Church which was the Whore of Babylon.  I felt the need to take issue with this characterization of the Church, now that I was old enough to know what "whore" meant. 

"Nana, Aunt Eva, since I AM a Catholic, I can't let you call the Church a --"

"Linda, do not say that word aloud.  My dear, you are but a child and you do not understand the evils of the world--the depravity, the decadence, the disgusting...."

"EVA!" cried Nana, laughing nervously. "Linda is recovering from surgery.  Perhaps now is not the time to....to discuss depravity."

Eva rose immediately, her face flushed and her eyes very bright indeed.  "Well, on to Maas Brothers then.  I need new foundation garments.  And a hairnet."

When the sisters of charity had driven away, I carefully got out of bed, poured myself a glass of iced tea and explored Nana's bookcase.  A thick layer of dust covered all the ancient tomes and I knew then that Nana and my step-grandfather were not big readers.  All the books looked boring, but then I saw a title I had heard of...It couldn't be....

Venus in Furs by Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch.  The man for whom masochism was named!  Good grief, how could this be?  Did Nana even know this book was here?  It must belong to Roy, her sweet little old husband who was in Kiwanis.  What would he be doing with a book about whips and bondage?  Of course, he was pretty submissive....I began to read.

OMG!

"Linda, I'm home.  Did you take a little nap while I was gone?" she trilled.

I was speechless.  I just sat there with the book in my hand.  "What are you reading, dear?"  Nana took the book from my hand and looked at it closely.

"This is a dirty book!  Where did you get this filth?"

"Out of your bookcase!"

We shall draw the curtain of charity over this

poignant little scene.

INSTEAD OF SCHOOL BOOKS, KIDNEY STONES

Sarasota Memorial Hospital

Lord have mercy, why did I feel so terrible?  And what was that strange bubbling sound?  It was so hard to open my eyes....but finally I did.  I saw a tube filled with hideous green bubbly stuff coming out of my nose and snaking across the bed.  Where did it end?  I couldn't see.  I couldn't seem to move.

"Well, hey, sweet thing, you finally woke up, huh?  You been laying there gurgling and snorting for a long time with that green stuff coming out of your belly.  Damn near made me upchuck."

Some strange woman was smiling at me from the bed across the room.

"We thought you was gonna sleep for a hundred years like Sleeping Beauty"

Then I heard a strange muffled voice.  I slowly turned my eyes toward the voice and saw someone sitting up in bed with her entire head swathed in bandages except for her eyes and a little hole where her mouth was.  I had no idea what she had said.

"I'm sorry; I didn't understand what you said."  My voice was hoarse, like the voice of the devil in The Exorcist.

"She said but you ain't no beauty."  This hilarious remark was greeted by laughter from all three of my roommates.  There was a young girl in the bed next to me.  It all came back to me then.  The hospital....kidney stones....surgery.....lots of pain.  Lots of pain.

And on that cheerful note, in strode my urologist.  "How are you feeling, Linda?" he said, flipping through papers on his clipboard.  I gave him A Look.  "Well, like I told you--the first five days you feel like you're going to die.  The next five days you're afraid you won't."  Everyone laughed heartily.  I  managed a grim smile.

"Is it time for a pain shot?" I said, hopefully.

"That's my girl--you haven't lost your sense of humor!"

"Yes, I have.  Really, can I have something for pain?"

"I think you have about another half hour to wait before we can...."  I grabbed his arm hard.

"I want a shot now!  I'm in pain!  Now!"  

Flustered, the doctor mumbled something and hurriedly left the room.  My roommates were strangely silent.  I lay there trying not to cry until a nurse rushed into the room carrying a needle.  An angel of mercy.  She gave me the shot and gently adjusted the sheets.  She smiled.

"You'll begin to feel better very soon, I promise," she said in a soft voice.  "Very soon."

"I can't go back to school now.  I would have been a senior this year.   I'm a Green Knight.  I won't be there when our last year starts...."  The tears came then.

The nurse gently pushed my hair back and gave me a Kleenex.  "You'll go back some day."

"I don't think I will."  I remembered Sunday dinners with the sunlight streaming in the windows of the dining room.  All of us in our Sunday best and singing the blessing...  Praise God from whom all blessings flow...

I closed my eyes and let myself remember.

WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS?

Already exhausted, Jim and I trudged over to the bus, climbed on and found a seat.  Jim had bags under his eyes and I hoped he would be able to sleep all the way to Florida, but it was not to be.  About twenty minutes into the trip, I noticed the bus was on fire and flames were shooting out from under the hood. Panic ensued.  People started screaming and running up and down the aisle, but Jim and I just sat there with glazed eyes, unable to take it in.

The surreal scene had the feeling of a nightmare and we couldn't wake up.  People were scrambling to get off the bus; some girls were crying.  I remember noise and smoke and confusion.  There must have been firetrucks; someone must have gotten all the luggage off the bus; I can't remember.  Jim looked terrified.  I tried to reassure him; God knows what I said.  Eventually, another bus came out from the City and we all piled in.  I prayed for peace and quiet and no more disasters.

Over the next two days Jim and I changed buses eleven times and I've never known why.  There was no schedule.  When the bus stopped, Jim and I would show our tickets to someone who would put us on a bus going south.  Twice we walked alone at night, carrying our luggage, to another bus station.  From Greyhound to Trailways and back to Greyhound. We never knew where we were or what time it was.  We slept fitfully and I remember eating a meal only once.  We kept going south.  Jim told me much later that he never went to the bathroom once; the restrooms were too horrible.  I went to the Ladies room constantly (peeing orange) but I tried not to touch anything.

 At last, we arrived in Tampa and were told there was no bus to Sarasota until the next morning.  I called our father who came and picked us up. Neither Jim nor I have ever gotten over that trip.  All his life, I had tried to protect him and never could.  Our family had fallen apart; even the small shelter our parents had provided was gone.  It was many years before I began to feel safe.  I am not sure Jim ever has.

LEAVING THE BOARDWALK

I was determined to take Jim home to Florida as soon as possible, but Fate intervened as it so often does.  I hadn't been feeling well and I had a pain in my side, especially when I ran.  One night soon after our trip to the park with Jim, I felt so bad that Joy called an ambulance to take me to the hospital.  The ambulance guys were pretty casual about it all and rushed to the nearest hospital at a speed approaching 45 m.p.h.  None of the doctors in the ER looked like George Clooney, but they did seem quite cheerful.

"Well, little lady, I don't think it's your appendix.  What do you think,Manny?"

"Nah, it's not her appendix.  Does it hurt when you pee, Sweetheart?  You know like burn?

"Yes, but there's this pain..."  The doctors were giving each other A Look.

"Are you sexually active, Miss?  Got a boyfriend?"  Manny looked quite severe.

"No!" I said, shocked.  "I'm not having sex."

"Good, don't have any until you're married."

"What about this pain?  What could be causing this sharp pain?  I'm worried."

"I'm going to give you a prescription, Honey.  I think you just have a little bladder infection.  You agree, Manny?

"Oh, yeah, what else could it be?" said the ever scientific Manny, who began to chuckle. "Now don't get scared, but this stuff makes you pee orange."  Both doctors, if that's what they were, began to laugh heartily at this witty remark.  I however was not amused.  And I still had this pain....

My kidneys were full of stones and serious surgery was in my near future.  But I knew none of this until later.  I appeared at my mother's apartment and said I was taking Jim back to Florida.  She started to protest, but then said nothing.  We packed his few things and went to the bus station where we began the trip from Hell. And I peed orange all the way to Sarasota.

ON THE BOARDWALK

The summer of '63 dragged on with the intolerable heat sapping our energy.  Joy and I made the best of it.  We saw Joan Baez and Ella Fitzgerald in concert.  Bob Dylan made a brief appearance at Joan's concert which caused a rapturous response from everyone there.  We went to see Beyond the Fringe and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf on Broadway--two plays that couldn't have been more different.

Dudley Moore burst on the scene in Beyond the Fringe.

Two friends from Wesleyan, both named Susan, visited us for a weekend.  I remember having a wonderful time and I think we sneaked into the Joan Baez concert, but time has blurred the memories.  Or maybe the fact that alcohol was consumed has blurred those summer memories from long ago.

Every week on my day off I made the long trip to where my mother and little brother were staying and then took Jim into New York City for lunch.  Jim didn't say much and he had a pinched, anxious look.  He had been snatched away from his home and family by my mother for reasons that were never made clear.  Every day he was left alone in their small apartment while my mother went to work.  He had no friends, no books or toys and nothing to do all day.

Jim was just a little boy and he had no idea why he was suddenly living in New York.  I thanked God every day that I was nearby that summer and that he could turn to me for companionship.  Joy went with me on one visit and spent the day with us.  We took Jim to the park and while he was on the swings Joy said to me she thought he was very depressed.  When it was time to go home, Jim refused to leave the park and I knew then how desperately unhappy he must be.  I would have to take him back to Florida.  If I had known then what actually happened that summer, I would have taken him home that day.

To Be Continued

THE WEDDING OF SNOW WHITE

Snow White and the Huntsman

"So the Huntsman has returned," said the Fairy Queen to Snow White, who blushed deeply.

"Yes, Geoffrey was gone a year.  His wife died from the plague and his son was very weak after he recovered and so they went to stay with Geoffrey's mother in a far away village and slowly the boy regained his health.  Then they began the long journey home and found their cottage had burned to the ground.  But our little friends who cared for me for two years welcomed them and allowed them to stay in the little cottage where I had lived.  Anselm told them that I was now Queen and so Geoffrey came to see me and found me in the palace garden."

"And you began to spend time together..." said the Queen.  "And the Huntsman said he loved you...."

"Yes!  And I have loved him for so long....." said Snow White.

"And now you are to be married," said the Queen, smiling.

"Yes, and I want your daughters to attend me and Anselm will give me away.  And I want to be married in the forest at the home of the little men.  I am so happy!"

  

Caleb, the Huntsman's Son

The afternoon of the wedding was bright and clear and filled with birdsong and dappled sunshine.  A long table under the trees was set with so many vases of spring flowers that their scent filled the soft air.  The wedding cake was the most beautiful anyone had ever seen.  As the little men played the fiddle and the flute, the fairy twins floated down the path in matching gowns followed by their little brother, Arthur, the ring bearer and the Huntsman's son, Caleb.  Geoffrey, looking very handsome, entered from the forest and held out his hand for his bride, the radiant Snow White, who walked slowly down the path on the arm of Anselm.  As the bridal couple stood together, the Fairy Queen, joined their hands and began the wedding ceremony.

When Snow White and Geoffrey were at last husband and wife, a collective sigh rose from the assembled company of friends.  When the bride and groom kissed, all who were there on that happy day thought it was about time.  Hours of dancing and feasting followed until the sun set and the moon rose.  Never in all of time had their been such a joyous wedding.  As night fell the guests danced by the light of the moon and thousands of fireflies--the wedding gift of the fairy bridesmaids.

Before the revelry ended Geoffrey and Snow White had slipped away into the forest to a lovely secret place where they would celebrate their long awaited honeymoon.




All photographs were taken by Elizabeth Messina for Faerie
Magazine.