To begin with, critics of the Internet may change their mind
My Personal Patriot Primer
Little Miss Memorial Day, blythe spirit, firstborn of idealists, gifted and talented, my life had been Arts and caregiving, but always an occasional rescue, and a sense that it would get challenging, through some of it, before it was done. Years later, I realized that "halcyon days" and "special and good insights" were a delightful burden, and strive to share their gifts well. My siblings, younger brother and sister, are happy matches and friends I am proud to know.
My late husband's family were very wealthy and diplomats before the crash of'29, and his Father had been a Federal Agent for the Treasury Department, and his Mother, Catholic "Silver Spoon", worked for Saint Francis Hospital for twenty-five years as dietician. Half their six chidren were caregiving personalities, and the other half natural "Feds", whatever their actual occupations. My Late Mother-in-Law was a "mighty mite", her four-foot-ten frame never stopped, and she delivered all six children a little prematurely..."unsinkable Molly Brown" reborn, I am told, in her ways.
Did she know that half of them would die too young, like she did? I'll never know. I never met her. Her second son was an accountant, and on her deathbed, she asked him to refrain from "taking it into law enforcement",in his Father's footsteps, to minimize the health hazards she feared were threats for him and his siblings. However, when the entire USA "hit the bricks" in jogging shoes, my brother-in-law broke his promise to his Mother, and became a Federal Agent, too.
My husband, his Big Brother, simply said to me, " I won't be as long-lived" I blanched...his motives were the highest, personally and professionally, I adored him helplessly and saluted him, felt brave and noble, at 23, " in harness", our son on one hip, and newborn daughter on the other...I'd loved my Nancy Drew, as well as my art, and thought we were Emma Peele and Steed....cool, delicious secrets,and I got to do it in heels, and feel so smart, dedicated and loving...no bored and boring housewife, me! The chores flew along , with this added demand.... to make the perfect home and family circle, anyway, and moreso...i.e., I loved it!
My own husband was no slacker, a leader in school and sports and scouts in childhood, a partner in show co -ord in college, where he majored in Chemistry, but "opted-out" of Chem.Warfare, on moral grounds had served in VietNam and honorably, with USArmy Corps of Engineers as a commissioned officer, and come home intact. Both of us were outrageousy happy to have been able to weather it, and with his new work, on our own in another part of the country, it was a sunshiny day.
My husband's team had finished building the plant, and were manufacturing digitalis and unguents, and our children were in the best stage for fun and travel after work, so we had a finer-than-average time of it during the Bi-Centennial visits to Washington DC. As a girl I visited on arts trips, and USACE Officers' Training was just South, so we weekended with other romantic couples in Georgetown...and when I resumed arts studies, again visited for the Arts...at ODS, my ARC workstops included NHQ there...a favorite place, and happy to be planning another visit soon.
But there was a fee. Our offstage habits were hot cocoa and Lord Of The Rings hobbits around the fireplace, in winter, with our pets and the children two new good readers, so I was shocked and concerned, and wondered what it could be, when ,on a "ladyvisit" to my married but childless sister back home, her husband served the pot, after the pots and pans. Pot's illegal...we don't do illegal in our family...snow in August..... I said nothing, but found myself giving the nod to my husband, pointedly, upon my return. Another visit was arranged with my sister, without her husband, at the home of her boss. She was house-sitting, as a favor, while her Boss' family, Reuger firearms family, were off on vacation.
The greetings done, and fun supper and tour of the estate and horses, and we settled in to the den. I will never forget it, because I almost laughed aloud...the room was shady and shuttered, like a spy scene in "Casablanca"...I looked around, expecting Sydney Greenstreet, but when he did not appear, I settled into the classic comfy corduroy den sofa with coffee, and beside my Sister, and looked at her just once.
"I'm scared.",she said. "They (her Boss and his wife) are vacationing too far...she brings home lots of "certain copper pots". On my last business trip with _________(my boss)," she went on," he kept looking over his shoulder. When I finally asked him what it was about, he said that the Middle Easterners were pestering him to sell them weapons, and when he refused, they put out a contract on him. He feared for his life."
I shared a room, in childhood, with my Fairfield girl sister. We are good, we are "fair maidens", we are cool...so I expected " something of the sort" of what she had to say, and did not faint.
I returned to home and husband, told him, my personal hero...he told his people, and the situation was "corrected". As usual, discretely, justly, without a shot having been fired. My sister, an" accidental double-agent", left the position, divorced the previously perfect husband, for his own redemption, moved to USVI and remarried a "mid-lifed-up" handsome sea captain, who had been happy in youth to extinguish fires on offshore oil rigs.
The story found the headlines briefly and nicely , and went its way. With all at peace again, that meant that my security duties in it were done.
"That was fun, and cool ! Let's do it again sometime !"...not too soon, though!...... and my Handsome Prince and I did dinner at Rive Gauche in Washington DC, again a Romantic, not political spot.... and, then home, and took the children on an outing.
Unfortunately, such goings on were only beginning......(to be continued).