A month after her sister Mabel's husband Arnold died, Leta’s
sister Nellie died. Nellie was 66 years old. While Nellie’s husband Frank and
three children made most of the arrangements, Leta and her sister Louise spent
their days and nights available and in mourning with them. After the funeral,
Nellie was buried in what they called their family cemetery in Lake Township,
the same place their mother and many other family members were buried.
While Leta was always lively and active, Nellie’s passing stopped
her completely. Nellie had been more than a big sister to her. Throughout their
lives, Leta had always been able to go to Nellie with fears and concerns.
Nellie would listen carefully, ask a couple of discerning questions and then
give advice. Nellie had been the one who took care of the family when their
father, brothers and sister Mabel left them, when their family dissolved in
1896 when Leta was two. While Leta’s memories were vague, she remembered her
teenaged sister holding her while she cried for their father, and their mother
was entrapped by her own grief and shame. It was Nellie who recognized how
oppressed Leta was by her marriage to Ralph Chetister and gave her tacit
permission to leave her first husband to marry the more dynamic and affectionate
Albert Mohr. When Albert was killed, Nellie watched Vivian and Dale, while Leta
dealt with the police and funeral and despair that she felt. Through all of
Leta’s years of loneliness and turbulence, Nellie provided comfort and support
without judgment.
Then she was gone.
Leta was brought back to her own situation when her next
month’s rent came due. She looked at the calendar. She had only a few months
left before she would be absolutely broke again. She opened the paper to the
classifieds section and began to read.
For the next week, she made more employment calls. She spoke
to several potential employers, but none of the positions or circumstances
suited her. Why couldn’t she just take
any job that came along? She needed the pay. This was only a job, not her
entire life. She persisted, but remained discriminating. She needed a position
that she would enjoy and be willing to go to every day.
One hot summer morning in late August, she received a phone
call from her daughter Vivian who had recently spoken with her broker at New
York Life Insurance. His office had just learned that one of their secretaries
was leaving to get married. Another had quit only a month earlier to have her
first baby. They needed someone as soon as possible.
Leta went to the office the very next day. She didn’t speak to
her daughter’s broker, but to the senior broker of the company. He was a large
man whose belly could barely be contained by his bright white shirt and lilted
over the waist of his pants, which were held up only by his suspenders. His tie
fell slightly to his left. She saw his suit jacket hanging on a hook on the
wall. He had a round face with a large nose, and a full lower lip. His dark
hair was slicked back with specks of gray throughout. His office was warm and smelled
of cigarettes. He was perspiring.
He seemed to be very busy. When she walked in, he made a note
or two on a piece of paper, put a cigarette in his mouth, stood, offered his
hand to her while still looking at the document on his desk, shook her hand,
sat down, and then looked at her. Leta wore a plain blue dress with a broach of
mini pearls that matched her pearl necklace and earrings.
“So you want a job?” the man asked right from the beginning.
“Yes, yes, I do,” Leta answered. “I’m a hard worker. I like
people. I’ve worked in an office before.”
To be continued.
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