Remembering a ’60s Housewife
Seldom have I felt as comfortable in anyone’s presence as I did with Lynn and her family. To her, they were probably only ordinary years. But she had such a benevolent sense of life and projected such cheerfulness and optimism in her voice and her demeanor that those two years were a high point in my life.
ALAN writes:
ONE DAY last March, I was looking for a newspaper death notice. I did not find it, but I found something I was not looking for: The death notice for a man whom I had played with when he was a baby in 1963. He thus became one of the few people I have known and seen make the journey from birth to death.
It was in 1963 that I first heard the 1930s’ ballad “Deep Purple.” Missourian Jane Froman recorded it in a beautifully arranged version in the 1950s. Its tone and melody remind me of good friends of ours who are now deceased but who live in the deep purple of my memories.
On ordinary days in the spring of 1963, we became friends with a young married couple who were also our neighbors in a residential area of south St. Louis, less than a mile from where sheep grazed in fields behind a Catholic high school in the 1940s and where my great-aunt could look out the back window in her home and see a farm in the 1930s. I will call them Ken and Lynn. She was a housewife and he was a factory worker. Color slides taken by my mother show them to be a handsome couple in the prime of life. Their son was born that spring. I played with their young daughter in our backyard. (more…)


