My Senior Year Begins

When I returned home from my aborted attempt to find a boyfriend before school started, it didn’t bother me that much. I always assumed they might be more trouble than they were worth. I knew enough to know young love was exciting, but it went with rules and restrictions. I realized if the raging hormones were allowed to go where they seemed headed, you had to reign them in before a nice girl would be “ruined for life.” There was a double standard that existed. I’d never heard of any male being ruined for life, but for the girl we all heard, “What decent man would ever want you, if your virginity had already been defiled by another.” The defiler was still allowed to wear the title of ‘a decent man.’

Two days later, I received a very thick letter addressed to me from someone named Evan Shelby. ‘What the heck?‘ I knew of an Evan Shelby, but only in hearing his name mentioned. He was in his eighties. It didn’t take long to determine, this was not the old man with the same name. This was the guy from Uncle Willie’s café. From my very shy Aunt Eva to a somewhat shy but determined young man a fair amount of information had been passed. He had learned my name, address and who knows what else, when he’d returned to the café to find I had already gone home.

He decided to introduce himself by sending me nine hand printed pages of his life history. We had something in common. He expressed himself better on paper than verbally. Nine pages! Wow, I was impressed.

He was from several counties over. The previous year, after returning from Korea as a combat engineer, he had worked for an engineering firm doing surveying work, both in Montana and Florida. I learned all about his service experience, his family, his church, his year in college. It was impressive, but I was still 16. He was a grown man. He didn’t tell me his age, but adding up all the things he had done, I figured he was at least 24. I’d always found it easier to talk to more mature people, but I wasn’t sure how my parents would take it.

Mom didn’t have a problem with it and Dad was kept out of the loop. Mom’s parents had a 20-year age difference, and Dad’s parents had a 10-year age difference. Mom and Dad were 5-years apart in age, so I decided it couldn’t hurt to write back. His next letter wasn’t nearly as impressive. He had written hastily in script, letting me know, since the first letter, he had taken a job in Jackson with an architectural firm. He would be living over an hour away.  

My senior year had started. I had my 17th birthday. He was busy with a new job and I was busy with my final high school year. I had every intention of answering his second letter, but weeks went by before I thought of it again. When I did my thoughts were, I’m sure he doesn’t remember me by now. I wonder what might have happened if I had written back? He seemed like a nice guy. I wouldn’t have minded getting to know him better. He’s moved on. I guess I need to do that too.

Several times during the fall when I happened to be in town late on a Friday evening, I was pretty sure I spotted him driving around in Newton. I remembered he had driven a little ugly gray Plymouth. I would later learn he was hoping to see me again, but he didn’t want to push it since I’d ignored his last letter.

With the holidays approaching, school would dismiss several days before Christmas, and we wouldn’t return until a week after the New Year was under way. I applied for temp work at a local five and dime store, and was hired to work the two days before Christmas. Looking at what was left of the unsold Christmas cards, I saw a pretty blue one with angels. A sudden idea entered my head. Sending a Christmas card wasn’t as bad as sending a delayed letter. It was too late for it to arrive before Christmas, but something kept nagging at me to do it anyway. I addressed it to Evan and posted it right away.

Although I’d played waitress at my uncle’s café and had painted Christmas displays for money, this was the first job I’d actually filled out an application in order to be hired. It was a milestone, although not a major one. The store was crowded, and I was kept busy waiting on customers and wrapping cheap gifts. When my two days were up and I was handed a small paycheck, I went home to enjoy Christmas, feeling like a real adult who works for wages. I think the job made this Christmas one of my better ones, because I had actually earned a bit of my Christmas money.

This Christmas, instead of it being just the three of us, my grandparents, and single aunt and uncle, we had our celebration with a family who was related to both Mom and Dad. This was one of those complicated family things some of you might want to tune out. I only bring it up because this book is for future generations of my family who may want to sort it out.

Eva, Willie and Alma, were Dad’s family. His mother, Alma had a deceased sibling who had married Mom’s half-sister. That union produced only one child, Lewis.

Back to who came to Christmas dinner, it was Lewis’s family. He and his wife had two boys and three girls so this was a larger than usual Christmas gathering. Aunt Eva cooked with Mom and Grandma’s help.

One of the boys, Tommy, was near my age. His sister, Joyce was slightly younger. The three of us spent Christmas afternoon playing Monopoly and Chess. My main memory of the games was of Tommy trying to show his intelligence by flaunting his skill at Chess. Joyce, who was about 14, said, “Of course, Chess isn’t a game for women. Only guys would be smart enough to play Chess. Everyone knows men are smarter than women. She was dead serious and not being at all sarcastic. I was shocked that she had been taught such nonsense.

I’d always assumed it was women who had all the brain power. Yes, I know men are genetically stronger because our bodies were designed for different purposes, but sex has nothing to do with intelligence. I think that was the beginning of my outrage that women were seen by some as less valuable than men. Later, in the workplace I would fight for equal pay for women who do the same job as men. As to the Chess game, yes, Tommy won, but it was my first time to play the game.

Back to the belated Christmas card, two days after Christmas, I received a Happy New Year card. This time he didn’t waste time. He asked if he could see me on New Year’s Day which fell on Sunday. I wrote back, wondering if the letter had enough time to reach him, and if he could find his way to my house. In those days, neither of us had a telephone. This meant a lot of guess work went into our relationship.

However, ‘where there's a will there's a way’ so the next chapter will continue with the first date.