What to do?

(Lyndon 15)
I recall a conversation we had alone one late afternoon.  He said, "Well, I suppose you are going to marry Sir Kay?"  I said yes, I supposed so.  And asked what he was going to do.  He spoke very sadly.  Said he didn't know.  He had no prospects, no talents, no education, no expectations.  I remember feeling very sorry, and helpless.

Lu

 (Lyndon 9)
[After my mother died in 1919] my father married within the year to a woman [Lu] so opposite to my mother.  She was healthy, used cosmetics, had about a fourth grade education, never thought about God, but did go for the right.  She was good hearted, a hard worker, could now sew at all, could cook, no experience with kids.

Potatoes

(Lyndon 7)
My mother had been a school teacher, had a great deal of determination and German drive, insisted on perfection.  One time when she was sick, I got supper.  My father said, "A good supper.  The potatoes are fine and well mashed too."  My mother said, "Yes, the potatoes are good but not well mashed.  They are full of lumps."  My father swore.

Comfort

(Lyndon 5)
[When I tore up Lyndon's valentine] he let out a wail and my mother scolded me.  My father asked, "What's wrong?"  Mother said, "She tore up the only valentine the poor boy had!"  My father said, "Well, doll  --  it's hell to be the oldest."

Aftermath

(Dogs 43)
At home [after the chase] my husband was waiting lunch too, and wondered at finding everything laid out and no sign of life in the place.  I have forgotten lunch and the conversation, but I do recall the long sessions of combing the burrs out of that dog's air.

Not our dog

(Dogs 10)
Finally it registered.  "Lorin!  This isn't Jennie!"  "Sure it's our dog."  "It certainly is not."  Just then "our dog" proved me right by lifting his leg on a chair and settling the argument.  So nothing for it but to get the car out again and take him back to the clinic to exchange for our own.  "Well," said Lorin, excusing himself with a sheepish grin, "all Scotties look alike at night."

Pork chop

(1930)
Although Alfred, my father-in-law, had settled his family in one of the finest neighborhoods in Milwaukee, Richland Court in Shorewood, yet he was close about many other things.  One night while I was there, Bobby, Lorin's younger brother, let us know he would not be home for supper.  "Oh, good," Lorin said, "I can have his pork chop!"  "I get some of it," Dede, his sister, said.  It was bewildering.  We always had meat left over at our house, but then we had no maid to serve it nor a beautiful house that was displayed in an architect's magazine to serve it in.

Thrift

(1930 June)
We hung up our fine wedding clothes and prepared for bed.  "For Heaven's sake!" I said, "why in the world do you have winter flannel pajamas on in June?" I asked thoughtlessly.  "Because," Lorin said, a bit edgy, "I was saving up for this trip."  I said no more, for I was beginning to understand the Kay family more as time went on.

Antigo

(1930 June)
We washed up and went out to eat.  I am sure we had the best to be had, as Lorin was fond of his food.  The town was bleak and bare, its shops closed for the night.  So we took a little walk, leisurely, enjoyed the pretty yards and flowerbeds.  Families sat on porches watching us, strangers.  I was afraid to say how tired I was and tried to be good company.

Another flat

(1930 June)
"If you want to stop at any of these places, let me know," he said as we whisked swiftly past lakes and lodges.  "Hell," he said, "there goes another tire."  He stopped the car to take off the tire.  A young officer came along on his motorcycle.  "Why are you stopping in the road?" he asked sternly.  "Officer, what could I do?"  And Lorin put his hand through the hole in the tire.  "OK.  OK.  But get it off the road."  "Yes sir."  And we got underway once more, with a few crude remarks about how Vina kept her car.

Wedding dess

(1930 June)
So we did [get the tire fixed], being a remarkable couple at an oil station.  I was wearing a pale blue silk dress, Lorin's favorite color -- "What other colors are there?"  It had a fitted bodice and full skirt made with gathered 7-inch sections.  The sleeves were short and puffed, the neck low and boat shaped.  My hat was of finest straw, poke bonnet effect, in matching blue and a little peak somewhere.  Lorin's beautiful dark simply-cut summer suit with gray tie did him credit.  No wonder people stared at us on the street.

First flat

(1930 June)
Somewhere on a country highway, the car started to bump.  Lorin smothered an oath, got out, took off his jacket, and remarked we had a flat.  It surprised me that he knew exactly what to do tho it wasn't his car, nor did he have one.  I was to find out as time went by he knew a great many things.  I have remarked his aversion to labor; this dislike showed plainly as he at last got the spare on and tossed the flat in the trunk.  "That's done," I said.  "Not quite.  We still have to get it fixed."

Honeymoon

(1930 June)
I am telling you, Lorin became a lawyer; after Ripon he went on to graduate from UW law school and married me.  After we were married in June on Flag Day [at Green Lake], we headed north in his stepmother's car, borrowed for the occasion.  Northern Wisconsin was our goal and the sooner the better, as both of us were dog tired.

Lorin's character

"1980 MEMOIRS" ENDS HERE.
"EARLY MARRIED LIFE" IS A SUPPLEMENT (also from 1980s)

(Married life)
If I hadn't been as big a fool in love as any schoolgirl (which indeed I was) I should have figured out Lorin's character while we were still at Ripon.  Basically, he was a person who liked creature comforts, loved his God and home, disliked physical labor and so chose to live by his wits.

Ghost writer

(1980 memoirs)
In the spring we were taking a walk and talking about some graduation exercises.  "What did you think of so-and-so's address?" Lorin wanted to know.  "Well," I said, "I thot it was very very good, especially for him.  I never thot he was capable of talking so well, let alone writing up a speech like that."  Then a teasing smile came over Lorin's face.  "He didn't."  "What?"  "I wrote it for him."  It was only then that I recalled the speaker a day or two ago running across the campus toward Merriman Hall shouting for "Kay!"  So he must have been fairly well known for this art.

Tutorial

Much later I asked Lorin about how it happened he seemed to be so capable along these lines [organizing parties] -- news to me -- and he said it was because of his home life.  His parents always had lovely parties, and he heard them talking about arrangements, etc.  A smart lad in many ways.

Always good

(1980 memoirs)
The fraternity brother explained:  "Kay?  Say, he may not go himself, but he sure knows how to get it ready.  He hires the hall, the band, arranges for the eats.  And everything is always good!"

Social director

(1980 memoirs)
Before I knew Lorin well, knew him just as a serious, solemn boy, I used to read published lists of officers etc. from the various dorms.  Merriman frequently had him as "Social Director" or some such title.  I asked one of the fellows about it one time -- how Lorin could fill that office when he was far from social, never had a date of any kind.

Know-how

(1980 memoirs)
Lorin had quite a bit of "know-how" about how many, many things should be done (I noticed especially years later when I heard him talking to contracters and carpenters building onto our house), yet he was not very good at manual skills.

wrong way

(1980 memoirs)
Then one spring day, or week-end, we were at a Merriman [fraternity] house party, on Green Lake I think it was.  People were doing this and that on the afternoon.  Seeing an idle row boat, he asked me if I'd like to go for a ride.  I said sure and got in.  He got in too, took the oars, pushed off, and started rowing backwards!  I was dumbfounded.  A couple of his pals on shore were highly amused!  I said, before thinking, "Don't you even know how to row?"  He was laughing too and soon started pulling the right way and we had a nice row.  I often think of little things like that.