Marilyn, My
Marilyn---
In a recent e-mail to all you
York '52-ers, I mentioned
my 2nd cousin, Marilyn Whitehead
Blew, wherein I told you that Marilyn "was
the Granddaughter of William Wilson 'Willie'
Whitehead and the Great Granddaughter of John and Emily Ellen Clarke Whitehead --- who,
together, are the co-heroes of my one and only novel,
'Raisins and Almonds--- A Civil
War Story' "--- a seemingly endless story that
I am forever working on.
But as contemporaries growing
up together, Marilyn was always more than that to me. Much
more. In fact, at the time I didn't even know we shared such common
ancestry as this, for I only knew Marilyn to be my very favorite
'cousin' --- and that was really all
that mattered to me. We weren't quite the same age, Marilyn and I,
but we were close enough to enjoy each other's company at family
gatherings. And we lived somewhat nearby one another--- she in
Blue Island, and I in Elmhurst --- both suburbs of
Chicago. Of course there was gas rationing back in those days of WWII, so
travel to one another's house was restricted. And whenever the
families did gather, it was always for Sunday dinner.
I remember this one Sunday in
particular. But before I take you there:--- You
know, back in the days of WWII, big-ticket items like new cars, new
refrigerators, new stoves, and the like were simply not available. You did
with what you already had. And when they broke down you got them repaired,
not replaced. This one summer our already spent, Norge refrigerator ---
built in the years immediately following The Great Depression--- with it's
tiny '2-tray-and no-more, yet
always-frosted-over' freezer compartment--- broke down.
And so we spent the next several weeks without refrigeration of any kind while
parts were "on back-order." Of course we had no
air conditioning in those days either, and so to get at least
temporary relief from the intense summer heat and humidity, as a family
unit of three--- my Mother, my Father and I--- we would go into downtown
Elmhurst, walk into what was then the 'Ford Hopkins'
--- a drug store chain of some note in those days, situated on
York Street near the alley-way across from Schiller Street--- and once
inside, we would sit down on the stools at the soda fountain and order
"three limeades." We did that many-a-time over
the course of that summer before our refrigerator finally got fixed. And
ever since then, my Mother and Dad and I would wistfully recall our days
of "three limeades." In particular I
remember the Christmas of 1972--- even as I said goodbye to my
Dad for what we both knew would be the last time--- he, lying
there on the couch, resting --- and I, kneeling beside him, coat in hand and
bags packed--- with my Mother standing by, her arms folded, just
listening-in --- as my Dad and I spoke quietly of our days gone by.
They were all once-upon-a-time days--- like all
the times we would walk down the street to the high school grounds
and "toss-a-few"--- that, and all
of our "three limeades." Three
weeks later, in January, 1973, my Dad --- Eugene Harold Downey,
1904-1973--- would be gone.
Now, returning to the story
that I first began to tell:--- There was this one Sunday
afternoon when Marilyn and her family, along with other extended family as well,
came to our house in Elmhurst for Sunday dinner. We had some time on our
hands, quite apart from all the adult conversation going on, and so we
wondered what to do. It was only then that I came up with the idea
of our walking on down to the Ford Hopkins in Elmhurst to get us a couple
of limeades. And so we did. It was a mile-long walk, then
another mile back, but we had fun, just as we always did whenever we were
together. Marilyn was so comfortable to be with. She was
always just as nice as could be, and I always enjoyed being in her
company--- so much so that I remember telling my Mother that
"Someday, I'm going to marry
Marilyn." But my Mother was quick to respond:
"You can't do that Bruce, because Marilyn is already related to
you." And so for me, she will always be--- just as she has
always been--- 'Marilyn, My
Marilyn.'
<--H. Bruce Downey, York H.S., 1952 (now)... and our house in
Elmhurst (then)--> 
pictured above in 2002 with 'Rocky's April Secret" at what is now home to
us all,'ratch hyar' at the end of Magnolia Lane in Christiansburg, VA
(below)