Women Back Into Stelco


It's funny how life slips up on you.

When you're a child you think time goes as slow as molasses. Every Christmas and birthday comes at you at a snail's pace while you dream of fairy tale futures. Then you do actually grow up and you realize time has been against you since day one and it would always be smarter, faster, and sneakier than you ever took it for. The babies you held in your arms not long ago were having babies of their own. And nothing revealed time's cruel joke like picking up those precious grandchildren and feeling the twinge of old age pulling at the muscles of your back or like looking over old photo albums to see just how young we all were when we first started out together.

These days I find myself seeking asylum in those dusty old timekeepers with their faded memories of glory days gone by. Those frozen images with our innocent smiles and eyes filled with hope because we were foolish enough to think time was still on our side. And the soft skin and colorful hair shining brightly through the blurry pictures of happier times, showcasing the effortless beauty that comes with the young.

No, we never saw life go barreling by until we could feel it in our bones late at night or saw it in the reflection of a mirror that revealed the lines of the living across our skin. We never saw ourselves growing old, until we were old. And we never knew how to respect time until it had backed us into a corner.

But then, when we finally did learn to slow down and respect the lesson time had to offer, well, that was when we learned how to feel young again…


November 1979


Betty looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand and watched its bright green numbers roll over to 3:30 a.m., the sound of its dial turning sounded thunderous in the darkened room. If she fell asleep now, she could get a good 3 hours worth of sleep. It wouldn't be enough, but it would get her through the day.

She reached behind her and punched the pillow up in hopes it would be the magical trick to solve her current bout with insomnia. She settled down into the pillow and closed her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep. After a few moments, she turned onto her side facing the clock, hoping this would be the position to carry her off into sleep, but after a few minutes her knees began to ache, so she flipped back over with a huff. This was the nightly dance she was cursed with now.

Tonight was different though. Tonight was a night she desperately needed her sleep because soon the sun would rise and with it a big day would follow. She would be speaking at the Ontario Federation of Labour conference on behalf of the National Council of Women. She wasn't exactly sure how she landed the gig, but she knew Gladys had her hand in it. Gladys and Vera had been active in what Gladys called the 'second wave feminism' as they began participating in rallies, benefits, and organizations that promoted various women's issues. She thought it was all well and good and she even donated to their cause because she believed in them, but she didn't really consider herself the active type like Gladys or the young pretty college types, who paraded around in front of government offices demanding change. Simply put, she was too busy doing the actual work they were so ambitiously fighting for.

She would leave it to Gladys to charge into those government offices with a rally of troops behind her. It seemed some at this conference were gunning for a fight with a steel company with a nasty tendency to lean heavily on the male population for its workforce and so Gladys had come calling a few weeks before armed with a case of beer and one of her long-winded speeches. She had hammered home her argument using heavy words like duty, having our say, and equal-rights with equal opportunities. Betty half expected her friend to break out the old hat box again and before she knew it, her name was in bold on the conference's agenda.

Now she was lying in the dark, going over the talking points in her head and feeling the butterflies build in her stomach. It reminded her of the time Lorna nominated her to speak at VicMu's Governor General's shindig. Lorna had been there to calm her nerves before the big speech then though.

She sighed at the memory. They lost Lorna last spring after a bout with pneumonia. She wished the older woman were here now. She'd go into that room full of old high-society men and know exactly what to say to get their goats. Oh how she missed her old mentor. She'd give just about anything to hear Lorna call roll for one of her dreaded VicMu inspections. She could almost hear Lorna's unimpressed voice as she tagged Gladys for wearing some fancy hair clip… or was that Vera? Or maybe it was a necklace that Hazel MacDougall stole…

Betty shook her head to clear her foggy memory. She gave into another round of tossing and turning, before throwing her arms out in irritated defeat. She lifted her head to see if her bed companion had noticed her sleepless frustrations and was happy to see the even rise and fall of Kate's back. Her hair was shining in the moonlight that streamed through the window beside their bed. It seemed Kate's hair only began to lighten in the last year, giving it more of a strawberry blonde color that gave her a youthful air that most women would pay big bucks to achieve with a bottle. Kate was aging more gracefully than any of them and Betty began to wonder what her secret was after all this time.

With that thought, Betty sat up and looked over towards Kate's side of the bed.

"Kate?" She whispered out. When there was no answer she carefully leaned over to look at her.

"You awake?" Betty whispered half-heartedly. She bounced lightly in her spot and waited for a response. Kate only grumbled and tucked her head further into her pillow, before going still again. Betty sat back and bit her lip as she leaned her head against the headboard of their bed.

She held her breath as Kate's breathing took on a rhythmic pattern that was usually Betty's favorite melody to fall asleep to, but tonight the glorious sound wouldn't calm her. Tonight, she had a different mission.

"I have a confession…" She started out, half afraid of what she was about to say. "… I think I had a hot flash the other day."

The statement came out quiet and reflective. The only thing that greeted Betty was a dog barking down the street.

"Before you say it, I'm not like Carol… I'm not about to start wearing black for every birthday… Or... or threaten to ingest every vitamin known to mankind to slow time down… It's just…"

Betty blew out a nervous breath as she looked up at the ceiling, trying to piece her words together in her jumbled mind. Finally, she looked back down and straight ahead as if she were prepared to surrender the truth to the enemy.

"Every joint hurts. My eyesight has gone to crap. My hair is doing some weird gray thing. I'm tired all the time. And where I use to lift 25 pounders with ease, now I'm lucky if I can lift the cat."

Betty's ramble fell away as silence settled on the dark room once more. She briefly looked over at the still form beside her before continuing on to the crutch of the issue…

"What if I'm not who they need tomorrow?" She whispered into the night. "Let's face it; the Betty McRae's of the world aren't exactly Norma Rae material. That's Gladys cup of tea. No one is going to listen to some old factory hand like me. What have I ever done to deserve the attention? …I don't know what Glady was thinking asking me to do this."

The lulled silence of their house was her only answer. Betty slumped back down onto her pillow and turned on her side away from Kate. She may not be getting much sleep tonight, but she could at least stop blabbering on like an idiot in the dark. She closed her eyes in frustration, but they shot back open when a tired voice behind her spoke out and startled her.

"You're growing older, but you're not getting old..."

Kate yawned before continuing as Betty's breath caught in her throat.

"You're only as old as you let yourself feel and with the way you still bound up stairs or dance around the living room with the grands, you make us all envious. As for tomorrow, they are going to listen to you because you've been there, you've been in the trenches all these years, making a difference in the work force, and you're going to show them just how lucky they are to have the Betty McRae's of the world on their side… You're going to inspire them, you just wait and see."

Betty lifted her head to look back at the sleepy voice behind her and smiled softly. Of course Kate had heard her. She probably heard every word she'd said. She always had in some ways.

As if on queue, Kate turned and curled up behind Betty, pulling her closer to secure her safely against her chest. Her breath brushed against Betty's ear, sending a thrill rushing through her, reminding Betty of the first time Kate pulled her close for a dance at the Sandy Shores. What a twirl it had been. A memory that was several decades old now, but one that held the same electrifying thrill now as it had then, when they spun around that dance floor, so close and carefree, awakening feelings inside of her that made her feel all kinds of things.

As Betty slipped her fingers through Kate's and melted into the warm body behind her, an old familiar bandstand song played in her head, and suddenly, she felt young again.

Finally, that night Betty fell asleep with a familiar feeling beating on inside of her as Kate held her close. She may not have youth on her side anymore, but she would always have hope and for now that would be enough.


A/N: Sorry for the short, delayed chapter. Life's been hectic.
A/N 2: Welcome Back Into Stelco is a real slogan from a worthy women's rights fight in the late 70's. I can't help but think that some of our Bomb Girls would have been true heroes during the women's rights movement.