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Depression Era Dating

by MEREDITH CHAMBERLAIN

It was January and I had a boyfriend. A title I wouldn't give him until February and that he'd take away from me in April. Do you know, when someone is chasing you, and you're not even running, even walking, even trying to move. It makes you think you have something worth holding on to. But do you? But I didn't. Power is not a gift and I think I would have done pretty well for myself before electricity.

It was January and people didn't have jobs. People were depressed. This was affecting relationships. I heard this from The New York Times and also from myself. But I didn’t believe them. I had been a person without a job and I thought I understood but it turns out I did not. I did not understand what a job could have to do with dating, with kissing. Please don't tell me to be practical. When you don't know who you are, when you are looking for a job to tell you, it turns out, it has everything to do with it. When you're busy figuring out who you are, you can't forget who you're not. If you're not forgetting when you're kissing then you're not doing it right.

I have gotten out of bed so many mornings, thrown on so many different versions of myself since January. It's hard to know who was walking out of my front door back then. I know that she wasn't writing. I remember that, and I remember that he was telling me to write and that I was growing tired of listening. Writing, to him, to us, back then, meant nothing if not a name on a page in a dying breed of distraction. So I thought of something timely, and fleeting, but recyclable, at least. And then I e-mailed my grandmother.

Fran and Ed met in Brooklyn, in 1932. She was 16; he was 22. They dated on and off for six years before getting married in City Hall and staying that way till death do us part. They dated for six years, in the 1930s. I am afraid we are all growing weaker as the world grows older. I am afraid our hearts are growing weaker and they're beating faster and they're forgetting. How good that one beat felt, three minutes ago, the beautiful one, because there have been 176 beats since.

Fran's father owned a barber shop and Ed was a customer. He got his hair cut a lot. When he wasn't getting his hair cut he was working in the mail room at Bell Labs and going to school, to Pratt, at night and eventually, when Fran had to get a job at A&S's department store, Ed got one too. Because he wanted to see her on Saturdays. And how could he do that if he too didn't find work at 285 Fulton Street. She sold corsets and he sold hats. He stopped getting haircuts. They fell in love.

It's funny that this grandfather of mine spent his life working at AT&T. I want the past but I might not be here today without that promise of a better, faster, future. What would we do without that. There are so many reasons not to be honest with ourselves these days. Maybe this is AT&T's fault. Blame it on the job you don't have, or the one you do, for now. Because it will get better eventually. It will improve with time, that much is promised to us. If you don't love someone and you can't kiss them, and mean it, there is no one to blame. There is no reason to stay. There is no reason to wait for what the future might bring. If you can't forget about what's not and think about what is, and kiss them, there is no reason.

jones beachI asked Fran what kind of dates they went on, during the Great Depression. I thought someone might publish this, but didn't really care if they did. She said they tried not to think of the times. She said they did what they needed to do. She sent me this e-mail:

Hi Meredith,

Here goes; we spent a lot of time at the beach in the summer, played tennis, went to the movies. Jones Beach opened and they had Broadway shows that we would go to. We had a group between 10 and 20 friends that we would have beach parties with and sometimes take picnic baskets and go to some local parks. We went horseback riding, took long walks, went to New York City a few times and visited museums. Our church had Sunday afternoon tea dances and we would go to them off and on. In the winter we would ice skate and sleigh. We would also go to mounted basketball games. After I started to work I wanted to see more of New York and we went to Broadway shows and big hotels that had the big bands like Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, and others for dinner and dancing.

A friend of ours was in the Navy and he took us to a restaurant near the Navy Yard, that was different. And we went out to dinner a lot with friends at different places in New York and Brooklyn. Another friend took us to one in Jersey City where I tasted clams for the first time.

I remember one night about 6 or 8 of us went on horses to some town nearby and we stopped at a little bar and tied our horses up outside. That was fun.

Can't think of anything else right now. Hope this helps.

Let me know if you receive this, I am not sure if I have your correct e-mail. Love you.

I sent this to him but I did not send this to an editor. I told him to stop talking about writing, about working, about everything that's not and to go out and find some horses. Take a girl somewhere she'll remember when she's 93.

Meredith Chamberlain is the senior contributor to This Recording. She is a writer living in Brooklyn. She tumbls here.

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Comments

[anon]

This is amazing. My hurt hurt and hoped at the same time. Your grandmother is a lovely/lucky lady.

[anon]

This is amazing. My HEART hurt and hoped at the same time. Your grandmother is a lovely/lucky lady.