THE BLUE DANUBE
by Myrna McKee

The pressure started to build in the last semester of my senior year in high school. I didn't know what college I was going to attend or even if my grades would be good enough to go. Not knowing I had dyslexia, a learning disability, I struggled with some relatively easy subjects, which made no sense at all. Learning from experience, I realized that if I tried harder and studied longer, I could do better.
The girl who sat next to me in homeroom, Ann was a whiz, a straight A+. We began to work together on our homework during study period and lunch. She had so much patience. Soon the results started to show as I pulled up my marks in both math and chemistry.
Ann is black, I am Jewish, and this took place in Worcester, Massachusetts in early 1954, where we lived in a very restrictive society. Jews kept with Jews. If you had non-Jewish friends you were suspect, but if you dared to date a non-Jewish boy, no Jewish boy would go out with you, for your reputation would be ruined.
Another perfect example of the fine line of prejudice in our society was Salisbury Street. It is on the West Side of Worcester where all of the City's wealthiest families live. The street is also a dividing line where respective ethnic cultures live in big opulent homes. On the East Side of the street, Protestants owned homes, while on the West Side lived mostly Jews mixed with a few Italian Catholics. Everyone kept to his own side of the street.
I am talking about bright, educated, rich people who were so prejudiced. By today's standards this behavior is silly, but then, that was the way it was.
You can just imagine how the white Jewish population (the establishment) viewed Blacks. Worcester is a big city, but because of the social restrictions, we all lived in a very small community. Everybody's business was common knowledge. The Jewish women who controlled where and with whom the teenagers socialized were the wives of the leaders of the city's businesses and the Temple Emanuel (our synagogue). The ladies thought they could dictate the rules in our small society. They just didn't know my mama. But I am getting ahead of myself.
It all started one afternoon as I came home from school carrying my load of schoolbooks. Mama was waiting for me at the door with a very strange expression on her face. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Myrna, come into the kitchen and sit down," she replied. "I want to talk to you."
Mystified and trying hard to remember if I had done anything wrong, I followed her. As we were seated, Mama began to speak. "I received a phone call today from Mrs. Rubin, who thinks she is in control of the teenagers. The gist of the conversation was, you are associating with a Black girl. You spend your time studying, but still the ladies feel you are making a big mistake. Mrs. Rubin told me, you are to break off the relationship at once or you will be sent to Coventry. I explained that I won't tell my daughter what to do, but I told her I'd give you her message."
My instinctive response was, "Mama, tell her 'NOT NO, BUT HECK NO!'" I couldn't believe my ears! How dare the ladies threaten me? For Coventry was a threat. The dictionary defines 'being sent to Coventry' as a state of banishment or exclusion from society.
That meant total ostracism. None of my girl friends would be allowed to telephone me. Not one of the young people in our group would speak to me on the street or at school. I wouldn't have any casual dates, there would be no invitation to the pajama parties, no one to shop with and no date for the Senior Prom.
Mama understood Coventry a lot better than I did. She had seen it in practice once before, many years ago. However, she told me, it was my decision.
I was in mental turmoil. The last five months of the senior year of high school were supposed to be full of festivity. As a class, we had been together since the first grade. Next year we would all go off to college and our separate ways. Numerous parties, celebrations, barbecues, swimming trips, sleepovers, and of course, the Senior Prom had been planned. The more I thought of what I would miss, versus someone telling me who my friends could be, the angrier I got. I thought of the consequence of being totally ignored.
You see, there was always a large group of students, friends, and family at our home. Mama made everyone feel welcome, especially my school friends. I have to admit I was afraid. Before going to bed that night I talked to Mama and told her I had made my decision. Carefully I explained to her, "This is not a black or white issue to me. It's one of my personal freedoms of choice. That right is part of my heritage. So I'll just ignore the whole situation and keep on studying with Ann."
Mama replied, "Somehow I knew you would make that choice. It's not going to be easy. But I promise I'll make it better." She reached out and hugged me and said, "I love you, honey."
Well, the word got out, and talk about a change. The phone calls stopped. No one came to visit. My best friends said a cool "Hello" when we met. Casual friends averted their eyes, and of course no one asked me out for a date. At first I was hurt and then I got angry. I even contemplated giving in, but some how I knew if I did, I'd never stand up for anything in life. I made the conscious decision not to become more or less friendly with Ann, as I felt I could handle the pressure. We still studied together as much as possible and I never told Ann what was going on.
Mama watched and worried, as I became more solemn and depressed. She could see the toll that the exclusion from society was taking on me. Mama got angry, for she saw first hand how hard Coventry was to bear.
After a particularly bad week, she smiled at me as I came in from school and said, "Pack your clothes! We are going to the "Borscht Belt's" Concord Hotel for a long weekend."
The well-known "Borscht Belt" was about 90 miles north of New York City, in the Catskill Mountains. It was "THE" resort area of great popularity among the Jewish people. There were many hotels that catered to them with accommodations of luxurious rooms, fantastic food and great entertainment. Daddy, Mama, and I went, and the "Borscht Belt" was a blast. I even met a young Jewish man named Sonny from New York City. He was over six feet tall, a freshman at Columbia Law, had a mustache, and best of all, he owned his own custom-fitted tuxedo. We had such a good time that Sonny asked Mama to bring our family back in a month, when he would return.
Mama was ecstatic to see me smiling and laughing. She said, "Yes." Over the next three months our family traveled a lot. My parents took me to New York City where we would stay at the famous St. Moritz Hotel, shop on Fifth Avenue, go to see Broadway shows, eat fine food, and visit with Sonny and his family. But the best times were at the Concord Hotel, where there was a big ballroom with a live orchestra and dancing every night. Sonny loved to dance, especially to Straus's ' Blue Danube'. He did the waltz with a great deal of zest and flourish, and as his partner, so did I. We circled the room with big swoops, turns, and dips. It was pure theatrics.
At first I got dizzy, but soon I was used to the flow and rhythm of the music. Sonny was such a perfect partner, I became more sure of myself every time we danced. We got to be so good that when we started to waltz, other dancers would clear the floor to watch. Often they would applaud when we were finished. Then Sonny would twirl me around into a deep curtsy. It was fun.
At the end of each weekend, I began dreading more and more going back to Worcester and Coventry. I knew if I had a date for the Prom, I’d make it through.
So one night I asked Mama, "Can I invite Sonny to the Senior Prom? I know he will have to stay at our house, but I promise I'll help, so there won't be too much work for you."
Mama nodded, "Go ahead Myrna, and invite him." I did and he accepted.
The year was drawing to a close and final exams were given. Thanks to Ann's help, I was accepted at a good college, albeit, not the one Ann got to go to -- Radcliffe -- but I don't think I would have made a good Cliffy.
The only thing missing was the Senior Prom gown. Unbeknownst to me, Mama had the situation well under control. There was a classy department store in downtown Worcester called Richard Healy's. One of Mama's best friends, Lily, worked in the gown department. When she told Lily the story of me being sent to Coventry, Lily was furious at the unfairness of the small group of women who were in control. She told Mama, "Leave the gown to me. I'll choose the very best. I promise she will be the most beautifully dressed girl at the Prom."
One night the phone rang and I heard Mama say, "Yes, Lily, we will come at once." She turned to me and said, "Get your long one piece girdle. We are going shopping."
Now I knew we couldn't afford a gown from Healy's, so I was confused why we were going there.
We arrived at the store and took the elevator to the fourth floor where Lily was waiting. Lily hugged Mama and me and made us feel welcome. "Come." She pointed to the large central dressing room. "It's in here."
I thought, "What's this all about?" As I opened the door of the dressing room, there stood on a mannequin the most gorgeous evening gown I had ever seen. It was all white and strapless. The lace bodice was a vision, crusted with hundreds of tiny white seed pearls.
Lily told us, "The skirt is of fine silk net and cut in seven layers, so that as one whirled the net forms a tulip." There was even an extra length of material to make long opera-style gloves.
Before I could tell Mama we couldn't afford this dress, I heard her say, “Dear, get undressed and put on your girdle.”
As she and Lily left me alone to change, I couldn't help myself. I went over and looked at the label. CHRISTIAN DIOR. The price tag originally said $400, marked down to $300, down to $200, and finally to $100. $100 was expensive but still within the very outer range.
With Mama and Lily's help, I tried on the gown. It fit like a glove. As I looked into the mirror I couldn't believe the reflection. I was beautiful, a vision in pearls and white, with long blond hair. I felt like a fairy Princess.
Mama and Lily were jumping up and down with excitement, hugging and kissing each other.
You see, when the gown first came in, Lily had called Mama to come have a look at it. Mama did and fell in love with the gown, but 47 years ago in 1954, $400 was a small fortune.
As Mama told the story, Lily was determined that I would look the best for the Prom. She hid the ball gown in the back of the closet in the alteration room. Each time there was a markdown, Lily would bring the gown out to be repriced, and then return it to the closet. When the buyer reduced it to its final $100, Lily made the call to Mama.
Minor adjustments were made, as well as, a pair of long white net gloves. Mama told me to write Sonny to let him know she would take care of the flowers. She ordered a circle of tiny white Zimbedium Orchids for placement in my hair. Then long white velvet streamers were attached to the back of the circle with a myriad of orchids affixed to the ribbons.
At last the day of the Prom arrived. Rose, Mama's hairdresser came to the house to fix my hair and apply my makeup. Rose created a real "Do". My long blond hair was piled on top of my head with orchids peeping out of all the curls. The velvet ribbons, full of tiny white orchids, cascaded down my back.
I was so excited I could barely sit still. Finally my hair and makeup were finished and I put on my gown, shoes and gloves. As I walked into the living room to show Daddy and Sonny, I overheard Daddy say, "That gown is so expensive I am going to have the dressmaker put in sleeves for her wedding."
He turned to the doorway and caught sight of me. Daddy stopped talking and looked, then a big smile crossed his face. He never said another word about the cost.
Mama got her camera and took lots of pictures of Sonny and me. Finally I said, "Mama, we've got to go or we'll be late." Sonny had come to Worcester by train, therefore he was going to get to drive my Dad's car.
Now, no one could find the keys. It kept getting later and later. At last Mama found the keys behind the pillow on our couch. So with a flurry of hugs and kisses we left, a half-hour late. We drove up to the auditorium where the dance was to be held and I could hear the music of the live band.
Sonny parked Daddy's car and we walked to the entrance of the hall. As we entered, there were three steps down to the ballroom floor. The big spotlights that focused on the bandstand swung around to face the steps and the band began to play the Blue Danube Waltz.
In the glare of the spotlights, Sonny held out his hands and said, "Shall we?"
In a daze, I stepped into his embrace and we began to waltz to the familiar melody. All the other couples in the room stopped dancing to watch.
As we waltzed, the velvet ribbons flew behind me, the silk net dress formed a tulip shape. We circled the room as one would in a real Viennese Ball. Oh, it was grand!
Then Sonny softly whispered, "I am going to swing you where the chaperons are. You go into a deep curtsy and bow your head."
And he did just that. As I dipped into the curtsy, the flowered ribbons covered my shoulders as a mantle. The only fear I had was getting up without falling flat on my tail.
When I looked up into the eyes of Mrs. Rubin, I drew on all my strength to rise with grace. I gave her my best smile. Her face was furious as I presented Sonny to her and the other Chaperons, making sure they all knew he was a first year law student at Columbia.
The Prom went on and I was the Belle. My dance card was full and I danced every dance. All my girlfriends chatted with me, making note of my gown, flowers, hair, and the fact that my date wasn't wearing a wrinkled rented tuxedo, but he did have a mustache. Two girls even said they 'd call me tomorrow.
Later, one of my girlfriends told me that when we were dancing the waltz, it was a vision of white tulle, flying orchids, graceful dips, pure Hollywood.
Well, Coventry was over and I had won the right to have whom I wanted for a friend.
Later that night back at our house, as we hashed and rehashed the whole evening, Mama explained, "I wasn't going to let the women break your spirit." She told how she plotted the revenge with Lily's help and Sonny's cooperation. Mama even knew the bandleader George. She arranged for the spotlights and Blue Danube Waltz. Then she hid the keys to the car so we would be late enough to make an entrance.
I had survived Coventry and learned a good lesson that has stood the test of time. Thank you Mama.

G/D IS GOOD

Dear Eric, I am a writer of a weekly column in two newspapers in South Carolina. A friend told me of your contest and as I write mostly about my Mom and her effect on my life I would like to submit several stories. The first the Blue Danube had a major input to how I have lived my life for 65 years. Hope you and your readers like it. Thanks Myrna Mckee

ps I always close my stories with G/D IS GOOD (G/D is the Jewish way to spell GOD)

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