Heavy classes like chemistry and my work in the health center allowed me very little time to date, and frankly very few boys asked me out. Alton Gray was a junior, and a veteran who asked me to movies several times right at the end of the year, He wanted to visit me in the summer. In reply to his letter asking directions to my house in Swansboro, I told him I lived in the fourth shack, and I was not home much of the time, which was true, because we were farming during the day about a mile away. Then I dreaded his coming anyway, but he didn't. I assumed he would be waiting for me to come back in the fall. The first day back I did see him - at the back door of the freshman dorm, with a tall dark beautiful freshman whom he married at the end of the year. It seemed to be a pattern.
In my "nineteen lives" bit earlier, I told about a near drowning accident with a boy named Paul Riggs.
We corresponded the summer after HS graduation and all through our freshman year. He was a student at a 2 yr religious college, Brevard. As soon as we got home for the summer we doubled with his cousin Sonne Odum and his girlfriend to a movie, after which they left Paul and me at my house where we sat in the swing on the front porch. We found very little to talk about. After a long period of silence he asked me, "How are your daddy's crops?" I heard a stifled laugh coming from inside the living room, just under the window next to the swing. Paul didn't stay long and walked home. He had a summer job delivering ice. Each week he put a block in our box on the back porch. It was a luxury we had until I was 22 and bought Mama an electric refrigerator and gas stove with the first money I earned at Duke.
My brothers had been evesdropping on our scintillating conversation in the swing. They had laughed about it all weekend. Miss Helen got a full report, and when Paul came to the back porch with the ice, Miss Helen, around the corner of the porch and with a high voice laughingly asked, "How are your crops?" Paul's face went as red as a beet. I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there in shock. He never called again, and at Christmas he came home from Brevard for good. Bill reported having seen him downtown. He gave Bill a message for me, that he had flunked out of college. Said he thought I would be glad to hear it!
I really wanted to explain to him that it was my brothers, but I didn't know how. I was too insecure. A summer romance down the drain.
Beginning my soph year I really didn't care if I had dates. Chris was still very popular, but Ellen never dated because she had a boyfriend at home, Earl, whom she married just before graduating. One of the girls asked if I would go on a blind date one night. I wasn't anxious to go, but she said he was a very nice boy, son of a minister. I was flattered that she thought it would be a plus in my eyes. I got a quick look at him as we left, thought he was cute, but it was sheer darkness the rest of the night, Within a few minutes the driver had gone down a lane in a pine woods, stopped and said he had blankets for all of us, and a big jug of purple stuff they called Purple Jesus (half grape juice and half vodka) and paper cups.
When my date got out of the car and I didn't, he got back in, wanting to know what was wrong.
I was pretty irritated, but in the nicest way I could, I told him I had never been on a date with
anyone in such a place. I told him I couldn't remember what he looked like, and I would prefer to get acquainted in the car. "I am a pretty good conversationalist"I said, "and if you want to talk, I think that would be fun." It was, and the time went fast. I didn't want to put him down, but I certainly did not want to go out with him again. I was surprised to have him call me the next day and apologize. He asked me to a movie, promising me he did know how to show a nice girl a good time. I declined in a very nice way. There was a voice telling me something I would never have thought of, that he might get me in a position where he would force me on that blanket.
A few days later my suspicions were confirmed. A guy on campus came up to me and said, "Hey, I hear you are a pretty hot number on a blanket at a PJ party!" So he had made fun of me, after all! I didn't even respond, not a look nor a word.
Not being popular definitely has its advantages sometimes.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Finishing Freshman Year
The second and third quarters of the freshman year were great fun. I loved every class except US History. Each time I tried to read my assignment I was so tired I fell asleep. Who could have imagined that I would become the wife of a prominent history professor? It was a six year journey to meet him, so I will endeavor to describe my personal feelings along the way.
With Christine being the most beautiful and most modest girl on campus, I occasionally had random dates through her boyfriends. The first month, in September, the campus newspaper featured the three most beautiful new freshmen. She was one of the three, but she never seemed aware of her unusual beauty. The second time I went home Chris and Ellen went home with me. I had told them that my home was very humble. The three of us slept in my parents' bed in the living room and my parents slept in my single bed for the one night. We went to a movie with the boy I had a crush on in high school. He had been my only date my senior year. I was senior class president, and at the senior banquet I had to give a speech. I told my dad I had to have a formal dress (true!) and an escort ( stretching a bit ). He said I could ask James Grady, a very cute guy all the girls had a crush on whose nick name was "Sugar Man".
Two senior boys asked me, but I hesitated because I honestly didn't think Daddy was going to let me go with a boy. I would have been so humiliated to have him drive me there and wait outside for the banquet to be over. S. M. had flirted with me for a year, and since he lived on the adjoining farm had even stolen a kiss once, but he knew my daddy! One day he said, "Arthur said if I could get a date with you, he would lend me his car." My dream was answered. Although Daddy said I had to be home 15 minutes after the banquet ended, I suspected that would provide enough time for some quick kisses before the last stretch where my dad would surely watch our approach to the house.
I was completely uneducated in the intimacy game. When I was probably 14 or 15 I was with a bunch of kids my age at a summer outing with my brothers when a boy I didn't even know grabbed me and bestowed my first kiss. It was not completely gross, and I admit I looked forward to the time when someone I liked would find me that attractive. I don't know if my first crush was enamored, probably wasn't, but a new student, Evelyn Jones, showed us pictures of her classmates, and when I saw the picture of of a blond curly headed boy named Wilbur Eubanks, I was bowled over. Evelyn said, "Daddy is letting me have a party for my 16th birthday, and I will invite him." At the party we played kissing games. I thought it was completely insane. A kiss should really mean something.
All of us had numbers. If your number was called you went outside behind the chimney where you were kissed, I managed to avoid all callers, including Evelyn's father ( so gross! ), by telling them I didn't play kissing games, but when Wilbur called my number, I am sure he did not even see who I was in the dark. I stood still with my arms crossed and he planted one right on my tightly closed lips and told me another number to fetch!
After that night I managed to avoid parties. Boys avoided me pretty much, too. I was excited to see S.M. when Chris and Ellen came home with me that fall. The next week Chris got a letter from S.M. (James Grady) telling her he had fallen completely head over heels in love with her and wanted to come to see her at college immediately. She never answered his letter, and when i saw him about a year later he was very sheepish. That was not the end of Sugar Man, nor Wilbur who showed up at the end of my senior year in high school. He was a new member of the Church and at a big dance in Wilmington he did not seem to remember ever having seen me before. I did not let him know I was Evelyn Jones friend or classmate, and neither of us ever mentioned the party. I am sure he did not remember the kissing game. Wilbur was a very gifted pianist, untrained, but a fine classical artist who ended up with his own radio program every Sunday afternboon when he played requests. He always played a piece for me, Doris,the cute freshman girl at East Carolina. He went to Atlantic Christian College, and occasionally took a bus to see me on weekends to take me to a special dance. We were good friends, but not the kissing kind. We both enjoyed our church connection and there was no apology needed when he showed up at a conference with a fiance. Se la vie!!
James didn't show up again until my senior year at East Carolina. That was very interesting. Many boys in between. but I knew I was waiting for somebody really special.
With Christine being the most beautiful and most modest girl on campus, I occasionally had random dates through her boyfriends. The first month, in September, the campus newspaper featured the three most beautiful new freshmen. She was one of the three, but she never seemed aware of her unusual beauty. The second time I went home Chris and Ellen went home with me. I had told them that my home was very humble. The three of us slept in my parents' bed in the living room and my parents slept in my single bed for the one night. We went to a movie with the boy I had a crush on in high school. He had been my only date my senior year. I was senior class president, and at the senior banquet I had to give a speech. I told my dad I had to have a formal dress (true!) and an escort ( stretching a bit ). He said I could ask James Grady, a very cute guy all the girls had a crush on whose nick name was "Sugar Man".
Two senior boys asked me, but I hesitated because I honestly didn't think Daddy was going to let me go with a boy. I would have been so humiliated to have him drive me there and wait outside for the banquet to be over. S. M. had flirted with me for a year, and since he lived on the adjoining farm had even stolen a kiss once, but he knew my daddy! One day he said, "Arthur said if I could get a date with you, he would lend me his car." My dream was answered. Although Daddy said I had to be home 15 minutes after the banquet ended, I suspected that would provide enough time for some quick kisses before the last stretch where my dad would surely watch our approach to the house.
I was completely uneducated in the intimacy game. When I was probably 14 or 15 I was with a bunch of kids my age at a summer outing with my brothers when a boy I didn't even know grabbed me and bestowed my first kiss. It was not completely gross, and I admit I looked forward to the time when someone I liked would find me that attractive. I don't know if my first crush was enamored, probably wasn't, but a new student, Evelyn Jones, showed us pictures of her classmates, and when I saw the picture of of a blond curly headed boy named Wilbur Eubanks, I was bowled over. Evelyn said, "Daddy is letting me have a party for my 16th birthday, and I will invite him." At the party we played kissing games. I thought it was completely insane. A kiss should really mean something.
All of us had numbers. If your number was called you went outside behind the chimney where you were kissed, I managed to avoid all callers, including Evelyn's father ( so gross! ), by telling them I didn't play kissing games, but when Wilbur called my number, I am sure he did not even see who I was in the dark. I stood still with my arms crossed and he planted one right on my tightly closed lips and told me another number to fetch!
After that night I managed to avoid parties. Boys avoided me pretty much, too. I was excited to see S.M. when Chris and Ellen came home with me that fall. The next week Chris got a letter from S.M. (James Grady) telling her he had fallen completely head over heels in love with her and wanted to come to see her at college immediately. She never answered his letter, and when i saw him about a year later he was very sheepish. That was not the end of Sugar Man, nor Wilbur who showed up at the end of my senior year in high school. He was a new member of the Church and at a big dance in Wilmington he did not seem to remember ever having seen me before. I did not let him know I was Evelyn Jones friend or classmate, and neither of us ever mentioned the party. I am sure he did not remember the kissing game. Wilbur was a very gifted pianist, untrained, but a fine classical artist who ended up with his own radio program every Sunday afternboon when he played requests. He always played a piece for me, Doris,the cute freshman girl at East Carolina. He went to Atlantic Christian College, and occasionally took a bus to see me on weekends to take me to a special dance. We were good friends, but not the kissing kind. We both enjoyed our church connection and there was no apology needed when he showed up at a conference with a fiance. Se la vie!!
James didn't show up again until my senior year at East Carolina. That was very interesting. Many boys in between. but I knew I was waiting for somebody really special.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
What to do about JOE???
I was in a predicament, in real trouble because of a guy I didn't even like. It was not hard to convince my folks that I really didn't want to be with him. I explained the situation, omitting the part about the one date the night before. Joe did not have a car, so when I answered truthfully that I had not been in his car, but that it was the first time he had wanted to walk me home, and that he bought all the cafeteria tickets I couldn't use, I think they understood that I had a big problem remaining friends with Joe in church and only in church. Avoiding him after church was difficult I used the Jorgensen children as an excuse and helped Martha get them rounded up and home on Sundays.
I also got a lecture about our room. Ellen and Chris had gone to the Baptist Church, so there was nobody there. The door was unlocked, and they went in to look around. The beds were unmade and on the desk was a copy of God's Little Acre. I convinced them it wasn't mine. I wouldn't waste my money on trash. What was also true but unspoken - we had all read it and were about to take it back to the girls next door.
Joe's mom continued to pressure me. When I graduated he was still there finishing his masters. Two years later I was married and he was teaching in Pinehurst. His mother was still living with him and we all became good friends, because we comprised almost half the membership in the Rockingham Branch, and we got into the habit of picking them up every Sunday for church. Joe still didn't have a car.
Twenty years after we left Southern Pines we had a call from a BYU student who said she was Joe's daughter. She came to visit us, and when her parents came we had them all to dinner. I heard that her parents divorced. I wonder whatever happened to Debbie Sue.
I also got a lecture about our room. Ellen and Chris had gone to the Baptist Church, so there was nobody there. The door was unlocked, and they went in to look around. The beds were unmade and on the desk was a copy of God's Little Acre. I convinced them it wasn't mine. I wouldn't waste my money on trash. What was also true but unspoken - we had all read it and were about to take it back to the girls next door.
Joe's mom continued to pressure me. When I graduated he was still there finishing his masters. Two years later I was married and he was teaching in Pinehurst. His mother was still living with him and we all became good friends, because we comprised almost half the membership in the Rockingham Branch, and we got into the habit of picking them up every Sunday for church. Joe still didn't have a car.
Twenty years after we left Southern Pines we had a call from a BYU student who said she was Joe's daughter. She came to visit us, and when her parents came we had them all to dinner. I heard that her parents divorced. I wonder whatever happened to Debbie Sue.
Joe
My two roommates became the closest friends I ever had. Chris was quite a bit taller that I, a bit of luck which literally made it possible for me to stay in college. It was a weird situation, to say the least, but it all had to do with fashion. Now, I have never been a fashion guru, although I can sew well, taught sewing to hundreds of students, even a few boys.
In March of 1947 a fashion show in Paris by The House Of Dior rocked the world with a collection they called The New Look. Women have always been slaves to fashion, and at that time dress hems were measured to the bend of the knee in back. The two I made to take to college were that short. Not being an avid newspaper and magazine reader, and being totally absorbed with farm work all summer, I missed all the fuss. There was a big dance for the freshmen and friends, like Big Sisters, etc., and I went, because it was not a date affair. There I saw my big sister for the first time since our escapade in the rain the Sunday I arrived. She and a friend were wearing the most amazing black dresses, a little longer in the back and reaching to within eight inches of the floor. Very slinky! They both wore very sheer black stockings and very high heel patent leather pumps. All of these features were new. Stockings had always been flesh colored. Nylons, which were introduced a year before the war had not been available for five years. I turned 16 during the war and started wearing shoes with some heel and stockings made of rayon which made your legs look like glass. Silk stockings, which had been available, and very expensive, were made in the orient. We could get nothing from Asia, spices like black pepper and cinnamon, even rubber for auto tires, we just did without. I have never even owned a pair of silk stockings. The ones we did have had seams up the back, a pain to keep straight.
The first weeks of that first quarter had everyone speculating about how long it would take the fashion industry and our students to catch up with the rest of the world. Every day we saw a few more girls wearing long dresses. Articles in the school paper were polarized. Some girls were quoted saying they would never ever wear the dresses that long. Articles and pictures from the wire affirmed that they were, all over the world. Although the polls showed that men hated them, and most girls agreed they hid their best feature, before Thanksgiving the majority of girls on our campus wore them. Chris could afford to buy longer dresses, and she gave me the ones she didn't want, which came down long enough for me.
Seriously, I would not have returned after Christmas if all I had were short skirts. Only one girl defied fashion, the girl with the prettiest legs on campus, always tanned and strutting in front of the college band in her little twirly drum majorette's costume. Helen showed up after Thanksgiving in her same short skirts. It drew protests from the other girls, an article in the school paper with a little chiding and a challenge to "get in step", which she did.
One of my favorite displays in the dress collection of the V&A in London is the the one on THE NEW LOOK showing many of the dresses I remember and wore for ten years. When hems started to rise, they came up with a vengeance until in the seventies skirts barely hid the underwear. Pants had not become fashionable for school and work until the late seventies.
I was not interested in having a boyfriend that first year, but there was a single guy in church, Joe Jenkins, hardly a boy, as he was a veteran who had served in the Navy and was around 30. His mother persuaded me to go out with him, so we went to a drive-in movie with another couple. He held my hand the whole time and actually sound like he was panting. It was such a strange sound. Perhaps he had a respiratory problem. It was a miserable night. I could not bear the thoughts of going with him again. On Sunday he walked me home from church. I could not think of a way to avoid it, and he kept grabbing my hand until I just decided to endure it for three blocks.
My parents had decided to drive up to see how I was getting along. They had been to my room, waited a while, and decided I must be in church since my sentence had been lifted, so they parked out on the street and watched me walk by their car holding hands with Joe. They saw me go into my dorm and the scene which followed was not pretty!
In March of 1947 a fashion show in Paris by The House Of Dior rocked the world with a collection they called The New Look. Women have always been slaves to fashion, and at that time dress hems were measured to the bend of the knee in back. The two I made to take to college were that short. Not being an avid newspaper and magazine reader, and being totally absorbed with farm work all summer, I missed all the fuss. There was a big dance for the freshmen and friends, like Big Sisters, etc., and I went, because it was not a date affair. There I saw my big sister for the first time since our escapade in the rain the Sunday I arrived. She and a friend were wearing the most amazing black dresses, a little longer in the back and reaching to within eight inches of the floor. Very slinky! They both wore very sheer black stockings and very high heel patent leather pumps. All of these features were new. Stockings had always been flesh colored. Nylons, which were introduced a year before the war had not been available for five years. I turned 16 during the war and started wearing shoes with some heel and stockings made of rayon which made your legs look like glass. Silk stockings, which had been available, and very expensive, were made in the orient. We could get nothing from Asia, spices like black pepper and cinnamon, even rubber for auto tires, we just did without. I have never even owned a pair of silk stockings. The ones we did have had seams up the back, a pain to keep straight.
The first weeks of that first quarter had everyone speculating about how long it would take the fashion industry and our students to catch up with the rest of the world. Every day we saw a few more girls wearing long dresses. Articles in the school paper were polarized. Some girls were quoted saying they would never ever wear the dresses that long. Articles and pictures from the wire affirmed that they were, all over the world. Although the polls showed that men hated them, and most girls agreed they hid their best feature, before Thanksgiving the majority of girls on our campus wore them. Chris could afford to buy longer dresses, and she gave me the ones she didn't want, which came down long enough for me.
Seriously, I would not have returned after Christmas if all I had were short skirts. Only one girl defied fashion, the girl with the prettiest legs on campus, always tanned and strutting in front of the college band in her little twirly drum majorette's costume. Helen showed up after Thanksgiving in her same short skirts. It drew protests from the other girls, an article in the school paper with a little chiding and a challenge to "get in step", which she did.
One of my favorite displays in the dress collection of the V&A in London is the the one on THE NEW LOOK showing many of the dresses I remember and wore for ten years. When hems started to rise, they came up with a vengeance until in the seventies skirts barely hid the underwear. Pants had not become fashionable for school and work until the late seventies.
I was not interested in having a boyfriend that first year, but there was a single guy in church, Joe Jenkins, hardly a boy, as he was a veteran who had served in the Navy and was around 30. His mother persuaded me to go out with him, so we went to a drive-in movie with another couple. He held my hand the whole time and actually sound like he was panting. It was such a strange sound. Perhaps he had a respiratory problem. It was a miserable night. I could not bear the thoughts of going with him again. On Sunday he walked me home from church. I could not think of a way to avoid it, and he kept grabbing my hand until I just decided to endure it for three blocks.
My parents had decided to drive up to see how I was getting along. They had been to my room, waited a while, and decided I must be in church since my sentence had been lifted, so they parked out on the street and watched me walk by their car holding hands with Joe. They saw me go into my dorm and the scene which followed was not pretty!
Friday, May 7, 2010
All Together, Almost
In my first letter home from college I thanked my parents for the speedy delivery of my money and related all I had learned, primarily that before I could go home at the end of 6 weeks for a week end, I needed a permission slip signed giving me permission to "leave campus". The rules allowed two types of permits, a "general permit" and a "one time" permit. I sent the form for the general permit. There was no form for the restricted permit, but I assumed Daddy would write a note or something when I needed it. I even hoped he would trust me enough to sign the general permit.
Daddy was one smart cookie. He figured out that if he signed it, I could leave any time I wanted, as long as I signed out properly saying where I would be visiting. Neither of us realized his signature was required even to go home for the weekend!
At the end of the six weeks I picked up an "Off Campus Permit" from the dean's secretary, filled it out, stuck it in my mirror (instead of returning it immediately to the office) and did not think
about it again until Saturday morning when I was on the bus going home. I had told them in my letter what time the bus would deliver me to Deep Run.
The moment I remembered my permit was still stuck in the mirror, I must have let out a moan and looked in agony, because the girl sitting beside me on the bus asked me what was wrong. When I explained my dilemma she said it was very serious. I could get expelled! She had been chairman of the womens' judiciary the year before, and knew how the trial worked for girls who broke the rules. She suggested that we ask the bus driver to stop at the next gas station so we could use the phone. I talked to Miss Morton, who gave me a stern warning. I was instructed to have my father bring me to her office Sunday night to varify that I had been with my parents all weekend, and as a little parting news she informed me that I did not even have permission to leave campus. My dad had not returned the form, written a note giving his permission for me to leave - nothing!
It was a miserable weekend. Sunday night Daddy assured Miss Morton that I was with them from the time I stepped off the bus. She explained to him that every time I went home he would have to write a letter giving his permission, and that he should trust me to have a general permit like all other students. Daddy relented, signed the darn permit and when he left her office, she asked me to stay while she made me feel bad by telling me that I had caused a whole lot of trouble by being absent minded, but she felt that it would probably be my last quarter, "because as irresponsible as you are, I won't have to worry about you another year!"
The next night I showed up at the women's court. My friend from the bus went with me as a witness. I fully expected to be suspended, at least. The sentence was "campused" meaning I could only be in my room, in class , the dining hall, or the library for six weeks.
I went to Lavina's room to tell her the news. On the day she had helped me register we noticed in the catalog that a new Director of Physical Education had been hired by the name of Dr. Nephi Moroni Jorgensen from Rigby, Idaho. We were so delighted that we called to see if we could go to visit them. As far as we knew, we were the only Mormons on campus. They welcomed us warmly, invited us to dinner and used our services occasionally to tend their four children.
Soon a branch of the church was organized in the city with Dr. Jorgensen as branch president and a handful of other members plus quite a few investigators who had read about it in the Greenville paper. Of course, I was not even allowed to go to church during the six weeks of my sentence!
The Jorgensens remain good friends, and it was my pleasure to provide a home for their oldest daughter when she became a freshman at BYU. Our house had an apartment on the side which we gave to her and two friends who stayed rent free all summer.
A final note. At the end of the first quarter at East Carolina, with those six weeks of nothing to do but study, my grades were very high. I made the Dean's List. When Miss Morton was ready to record our grades I went in alone and proudly presented my report card. She looked very surprised. It was the first time she had seen me since she had called me down to berate me again a couple of weeks after the incident with my dad. She just wanted me to know how lucky I was to still be there. As you would expect, the whole dorm had become aware of my predicament, and another girl left without signing out. These are Miss Morton's exact words, "She thought she could get away with it, too. She got caught, and is now expelled! See what you have caused!"
We learned later she was pregnant and wanted to go home, anyway. She used me to justify her spending the weekend with her boyfriend.
Miss Morton could not hide her surprise at my near perfect grades. I must have has a look of superiority when I confidently let her know, "I'll be here next year!" Which I was, and long after she retired in the spring, and made all the freshmen happy.
Daddy was one smart cookie. He figured out that if he signed it, I could leave any time I wanted, as long as I signed out properly saying where I would be visiting. Neither of us realized his signature was required even to go home for the weekend!
At the end of the six weeks I picked up an "Off Campus Permit" from the dean's secretary, filled it out, stuck it in my mirror (instead of returning it immediately to the office) and did not think
about it again until Saturday morning when I was on the bus going home. I had told them in my letter what time the bus would deliver me to Deep Run.
The moment I remembered my permit was still stuck in the mirror, I must have let out a moan and looked in agony, because the girl sitting beside me on the bus asked me what was wrong. When I explained my dilemma she said it was very serious. I could get expelled! She had been chairman of the womens' judiciary the year before, and knew how the trial worked for girls who broke the rules. She suggested that we ask the bus driver to stop at the next gas station so we could use the phone. I talked to Miss Morton, who gave me a stern warning. I was instructed to have my father bring me to her office Sunday night to varify that I had been with my parents all weekend, and as a little parting news she informed me that I did not even have permission to leave campus. My dad had not returned the form, written a note giving his permission for me to leave - nothing!
It was a miserable weekend. Sunday night Daddy assured Miss Morton that I was with them from the time I stepped off the bus. She explained to him that every time I went home he would have to write a letter giving his permission, and that he should trust me to have a general permit like all other students. Daddy relented, signed the darn permit and when he left her office, she asked me to stay while she made me feel bad by telling me that I had caused a whole lot of trouble by being absent minded, but she felt that it would probably be my last quarter, "because as irresponsible as you are, I won't have to worry about you another year!"
The next night I showed up at the women's court. My friend from the bus went with me as a witness. I fully expected to be suspended, at least. The sentence was "campused" meaning I could only be in my room, in class , the dining hall, or the library for six weeks.
I went to Lavina's room to tell her the news. On the day she had helped me register we noticed in the catalog that a new Director of Physical Education had been hired by the name of Dr. Nephi Moroni Jorgensen from Rigby, Idaho. We were so delighted that we called to see if we could go to visit them. As far as we knew, we were the only Mormons on campus. They welcomed us warmly, invited us to dinner and used our services occasionally to tend their four children.
Soon a branch of the church was organized in the city with Dr. Jorgensen as branch president and a handful of other members plus quite a few investigators who had read about it in the Greenville paper. Of course, I was not even allowed to go to church during the six weeks of my sentence!
The Jorgensens remain good friends, and it was my pleasure to provide a home for their oldest daughter when she became a freshman at BYU. Our house had an apartment on the side which we gave to her and two friends who stayed rent free all summer.
A final note. At the end of the first quarter at East Carolina, with those six weeks of nothing to do but study, my grades were very high. I made the Dean's List. When Miss Morton was ready to record our grades I went in alone and proudly presented my report card. She looked very surprised. It was the first time she had seen me since she had called me down to berate me again a couple of weeks after the incident with my dad. She just wanted me to know how lucky I was to still be there. As you would expect, the whole dorm had become aware of my predicament, and another girl left without signing out. These are Miss Morton's exact words, "She thought she could get away with it, too. She got caught, and is now expelled! See what you have caused!"
We learned later she was pregnant and wanted to go home, anyway. She used me to justify her spending the weekend with her boyfriend.
Miss Morton could not hide her surprise at my near perfect grades. I must have has a look of superiority when I confidently let her know, "I'll be here next year!" Which I was, and long after she retired in the spring, and made all the freshmen happy.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Freshmen
In my last blog I tried to describe the trauma of getting started in my first quarter of college. For a poor little girl from the "sticks" I think I adjusted very well to my new life. Three people had a major influence at the time. I had met another Mormon student at a church conference who was in her last year and was in my major, home economics. My big sister had not mentioned helping me with the new experience of registering for classes, so when Lavina dropped by to welcome me and ask if she could help me, I was most grateful. She had been assigned to Ellen Buffkin from Tabor City who was rooming with her cousin, Christine Strickland, who had no big sister, it seemed. She offered to help all three of us.
You figured out what classes you wanted, and patiently waited in a line in front of the professor's chair at a long table. If the class was full, it was back to study the catalog. Chris was also in my major, and there were enough other required classes outside the major that Lavina put the three of us in many of the same classes. Consequently, we soon discovered we were spending most of our class time together and eating in the dining hall together.
The Belle of Hobsville, my accidental roommate, spent all of her time with a high school friend.
They had decided that although they were best friends, it was best to room with a stranger, have more adventure, meet more people. Marvis Hobbs never figured on meeting someone like me. She and several other girls on the hall had a hand at my hair, but nothing affected the tight frizz. Her morning squeel when she first popped her eyes open was a little hard for me to get used to, but I didn't mind that she never wanted to be seen with me. I had Chris and Ellen who both dressed better than I, but they accepted me. Marvis, the only child of the president of the bank in Hobsville, had ordered her college wardrobe from Seventeen magazine, and they took up almost all of our closet space.
One day I returned from my last class to find Marvis and all her belongings were gone. I raced downstairs to the dean's office to discover that her friend's roommate had left school to get married and Marvis had asked to change rooms, since they spent all their time together anyway. Miss Morton was shocked that she had not even left me a note.
Naturally I felt terrible! When Chris and Ellen came by for me to go to dinner. they found me sitting on my bed crying. They were very sympathetic, and before the evening was over they returned to my room to say they had discovered a three girl room in the hall with only two girls, and they were willing to take my room The three of us moved in together, and we lived happily ever after.
It was quite a while before I saw Marvis on campus. She had heard about my move, but had no apology still. We completely lost touch before we both graduated. When I went back to the 50th anniversary in 2001, I noticed that her name was in the program, and I went over to her table to speak to her. I said,"You probably don't remember me, but we were roommates for a couple of weeks our freshman year." She had been teaching business in high school for many years.
When I went back to our table, I saw that she was turning to find my bio in the very back, and was reading it with her mouth open. I said to Ted, "If she had been nicer to me, I would have invited her to visit us in some of the exciting places we have lived, like London, Madrid or China." She finished reading about my exciting life and educational accomplishments and came right over to our table to congratulate me and meet my neat husband. It was a good feeling.
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