The Boulevadier

I am back finally, after vacation and yet another round of antiboitics for sinus and bronchitis. Vacation was San Deigo--rain, rain, rain, rain, etc. You get the picture.

Well, onto my father William. When I was little, I was a curious child and books were always a GREAT attraction to me. I will tell you the "Playboy" story later. There were several large photo albums, with pictures of many lovely ladys, of varying ages and looks, in my parent's bedroom. I asked father about them, and he replied we were his date books. I was shocked! My father went out with women other than my mother! I was appalled by it all! I then let curosity get the best of me again, and I asked about them. Some were classmates, and others were from the neighborhood. Some were friends of friends, yet others were blind dates. One picture of a older woman, who I remember as being very beautiful, was a teacher of his. There were so many. I was in awe of my father. WOW! I then asked my mother where her Books were (note: plural), and she showed me only a few pictures of the small crowd, who had courted her. I could not believe it. I was stunned by the vast difference in their experiences. Oh, how naive I was!


These days my father would be considered a "player", but back then he thought of himself as a "Boulevadier". A man of romance. A snappy dresser, who was light upon his feet. He told me he asked every girl out. He said it was surprising, when the pretty ones would tell him, that they did not get asked out much. He saw a "No" from a girl as simply a "no", and not a personal rejection. He believed in showing a girl a lovely time, and respecting her. He never tried anything with anyone of them. He told of one girl, who cried at the end of a date, for she was always treated like trash and used. She had never been shown such respect and kindness by any man before. He told me of going to seven proms one year, for his mother fixed him up with friends' daughters, that could not get a date for some reason. These were at various schools thoughout the region. He said he enjoyed each outing, and made the night special for each young lady to remember. One of his favorite song lyrics was :"I'll make you a day, like no day has been or will be again...". These were the ideals my father bought me up with, making me one of the last of the hopeless romantics. I hope to tell of some of his romantic gestures thoughout this blog.

It was after WWII, and my father was a fit and handsome young Marine. He was full of vim and vigor. My mother was a shy 20 something, working in her Aunt's clothing store in downtown Hammond, "Carrie Long"s". It was High couture for back then, alligator handbags, and designer coats. Items the other stores did not carry. (At this time, Hammond was the second largest city in the state, and a thriving suburban community.) I guess I will continue this from my mother's point of view. She was working a counter, when a good-looking young man walked into the store on a friday afternoon. The shop was for women only, so she asked he if needed any help. He replied he wanted a hankerchief box for his mother, though he had made no purchase. This stunned her, and she explained she could not give him one. The banter went back and forth for few minutes,when my father announced he would see her tomorrow. My mother was flustered at this point, and stared at him, asking what he meant. He replied "I am your blind date for tomorrow, and I just came by to check you out, to make sure you were not a dog." With a smile and a wave, he walked out of the store leaving my mother literally beside herself in shock. My father had an amzaing sense of humor, and my mother came from a world void of it.

Mutual friends of theirs had set them up for a blind date for saturday evening. She was a wreck, for she never had experienced anything/anyone like my father before. I can still see her face, as she told me the story of their first meeting. Oh, the smile and the flush in her cheeks, just as it must have been on that fateful day. My mother came from a Polish Roman Catholic family--her grandparents from the old country. She had led a pretty sheltered life until meeting father. He changed that for good.

Well, I think I will leave you hanging here for the first date story--there are a couple side stories to it and the second date/chance encounter is tied in as well. I do not want to make these posting too long, because you might not read them then.