Chapter 59

From the Memoirs of Grace Bailey -

That June was a season of two weddings. The first was Doris' to Jerry Belham. I was surprised when she came into the guest room her father had assigned me looking anxious just as I had finished unpacking. I was even more surprised when she spoke to me about something that I would have expected her to take up with her mother. Then I remembered that Toppy was away with Archie for the afternoon visiting old friends in another part of Toronto. Doris's stepmother got along with her fairly well, sometimes better than I did, but she was at a friend's house for a bridge luncheon. Doris needed to talk to someone immediately.

A friendly acquaintance had congratulated her on being broadminded enough to tolerate Jerry's eye for attractive women. It was the wise thing to do. Jerry's mother did the same for his father and their marriage has lasted for nearly forty years. When a man has looks, money, and social position it's foolish to expect to hold him to strict standards. Doris should just enjoy the advantages of a brilliant marriage. The worst of it was that Doris' acquaintance wasn't being snide. She was genuinely happy for her.

Jerry swore that he may have been careless about appearances, but he had been faithful to her. Her acquaintance didn't realize that his free and easy bachelor days were, for all intents and purposes, over. He no longer wanted to be with any woman but her. Doris wanted to believe that it would be alright, but she didn't want to make a mistake with something as important as marriage. "What should I do?"

I wasn't sure that she should be asking me a question like that. I lacked the full experience and authority of even my two years of marriage. During very little of that time had I enjoyed what most people would think of as ordinary married life. Nonetheless, I still had all the affection and concern for Doris of an aunt who had known her since she was born. I couldn't just do nothing. "Do you love Jerry?"

She did. Did she trust Jerry to tell her the truth? She did, absolutely.

I gave her the best advice I could. "There are no guarantees in love or marriage, dear. Sometimes trust is a foolish thing to have, but without it neither has any meaning. You are the only one who can decide if you have enough trust in Jerry to place your future and that of any children you may have in his hands." I felt an overwhelming tenderness for her at that moment. "Whatever you do, just remember that you aren't alone. You're part of a family and we all love you."

… I spent a good part of that day and the next hoping that Doris' decision to go through with the marriage was the right one. Seeing her and Jerry together aglow with love as they took their vows, I couldn't help thinking that maybe it was. …

Mother, Maisie and I stayed just long enough at the reception to congratulate the bride and groom and enjoy the heartwarming sight of Doris dancing with her father. Afterwards, we sped out the door and down the steps to my roadster as fast as Mother could manage. Once everyone was seated, we took off at lightning speed. Honey, Max, Henry, Violet and Zack were probably already at St. Paul's Church for the wedding of Joe Callahan and Julie Price and we, as Mother anxiously reminded me, had far less time that I hoped to get there.

I admit that I don't do my best driving when in a hurry. However, despite what Mother would have told you, the driver of that oncoming car did not screech to a halt to avoid a collision when I turned onto Queen Street. He just slowed down very quickly. I'm sure the skid marks Mother saw were from some other car that actually did make a sudden stop. Also, there was as much as half a foot of distance between our front bumpers as I zoomed by the other driver, not the bare inch Mother claimed. I admit that what a wide-eyed Maisie exclaimed after I made the turn was not to my credit. "Can you teach me to drive like that?"

Mother didn't have to look so ashen as we got out of the car afterwards and Maisie didn't have to look so enthusiastic. Unfortunately, that was eight blocks from St. Paul's Church thanks to my roadster blowing a gasket. My husband, God bless him, chose his cars for speed and elegance rather than reliability.

I made up my mind at that moment that I wasn't going to sell my Model A anytime soon. I missed the wedding because I had to wait for a tow truck. Mother and Maisie only made it because Max dashed over from St. Paul's to give them a ride. The three of them barely made it into the church ahead of the bride and groom.

I finally caught up with everybody at the reception. In addition to Joe and Julie's families, David Doyle and Joe's fighters were also there. Honey couldn't have been happier for her little brother and his bride. She was actually misty-eyed as she reminisced with Joe about their childhood. "You were an awful scamp when we were growing up. I never would have thought that I'd look at you some day and see a responsible adult."

"Don't give up hope," David Doyle kidded good-naturedly. "It might still happen."

Seeing Joe and Honey together and the almost motherly pride she took in him, I couldn't help wondering what it would have been like to have had a little brother as well as the two big ones I grew up with. I missed Jack. Nearly fifty years later, I still do. At least Bob and I had never been on better terms. Sometimes big brothers become responsible adults too. Thinking of my brothers made me wish that Van were not at odds with his. Still, I couldn't see what choice he had. Jonathan Jr. had simply refused to speak to him for sixteen years. While my husband was risking his life to stop the fascists, Lionel was cheating their victims. I couldn't understand how any amount of money could be worth alienating your own flesh and blood?

From the Journal of Maisie McGinty June 21, 1938

It's good to be writing in my journal again. I wish I hadn't forgotten to bring it to Toronto with me. I thank my lucky stars that Mrs. Bailey agreed to take the train home to New Bedford with me instead of waiting with Grace for her roadster to be repaired. I'm already facing four days straight at the switchboard to make up for the hours I lost in Toronto. It was worth it, though, for the chance to see my Grandma Jackson again and to revisit my old haunts in Cabbagetown.

Grandma was shocked when I tuned her old Baldwin upright piano. She admitted that it was a good thing for Mom to teach me. Usually, she tries to change the subject whenever I mention her over the phone. I finally asked why. Grandma sighed. "Your mother should have married my son when he asked her to instead of keeping you from us for so long. I know he wasn't perfect, but there are worse faults in a husband than a fondness for drink and you needed a father."

I wasn't about to take that lying down. "Mom and I did alright, and we had Grandpop."

"I don't doubt," Grandma admitted, "that your mother loved you and tried her best or that your grandfather did the same, but you and I could have met so many years earlier."

… I shouldn't have been so shocked by how down-at-the heels Cabbagetown was with its boarded-up businesses, peeling paint, and unemployed men standing and gassing on street corners. It wasn't much better when I left. I guess I've gotten more used to how clean and neat New Bedford is than I thought.

Chrissy Quincannon couldn't believe that I was the ward of a rich businesswoman. I couldn't believe how grown up she looked. She could still talk up a storm, though. Ten minutes with her and I was caught up on everyone I knew who was still living in Cabbagetown. An hour and I would have been caught up on everyone who ever lived there all the way back to the Indians. Every time she told me about an old friend who had ended up in prison or in a gang or losing themselves to dope or the bottle or bad men my heart sank. I felt lucky that Grandpop had cared enough to take me from the hard streets of Cabbagetown to New Bedford so that nothing like that would ever happen to me.

Fortunately, not everyone I had known was doing so badly. I envied Chrissy having Pat O'Roarke as a steady boyfriend. He was still the same string bean I remembered only taller, but his sweet nature hadn't changed. I suspected that one reason Chrissy was so crazy about him was that he was a quiet guy and was happy to sit and listen to her talk for an hour without saying very much himself.

He was working at his dad's filling station after school and on Saturdays. Chrissy was working at Mr. Daley's grocery. They were trying to save up enough money to get married. I knew I was being a dope, but I couldn't help wondering how long it would take Hub and I to save enough to do the same if he ever woke up and saw me as a girl instead of just a pal.

… I had to stand on a chair, but, if I put my ear to the vent just below the ceiling, I could hear Grace and Mrs. Bailey talking in their guest room. Mrs. Bailey was satisfied with the list of graduate students willing to work as researchers for the survey she is commissioning from the University of Toronto of the Bas Lake region including Pinebury, New Bedford, and Northbridge. "It's about time the question of whether New Bedford or Northbridge is the more progressive town was settled by facts and figures."

The survey was old news. What Grace said next wasn't. "I delivered the money to Al Cohen, this morning. He'll see that it gets into the right hands."

May sounded worried. "I know that something has to be done to help Hitler's Jewish victims in Germany and Austria. I just wish that we didn't have to break the law to do it."

I wish that I knew for sure what they were talking about. I wonder if it has anything to do with Grace's frequent complaints about Immigration Branch refusing to allow more than a handful of Jews to immigrate to Canada each year. [Newly declassified RCMP case files indicate that over the summer of 1938 certain members of the Toronto Jewish community and gentile sympathizers carried out a plan to bring a dozen or more German and Austrian Jews to Canada in violation of Canada's anti-Semitic immigration laws. … Ed.]

Next Week: Small-town idyll. Small-town problems. Rally in Toronto.