The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion (24 page)

P
ULASKI
, W
ISCONSIN

1943

S
INCE MOST OF THE BOYS
F
RITZI HAD BEEN TEACHING WERE NOW
going into the service, the Civilian Pilots Training program at the college was shut down and the plane was sold to the military.

And now that the filling station had closed, Fritzi had nothing to occupy her time and she just hated to sit around doing nothing.

That good-looking Irishman had been somewhat of a distraction, but he had joined the marines and was off in North Carolina. She was not content to just be a sideline spectator in the war. She wanted to do something other than roll bandages and write soldiers. She could apply for a job at one of the big airplane factories out in California like a few of her friends had, but even that wasn’t enough for Fritzi. She didn’t want to build planes. Hell, she wanted to fly them. Day after day, she paced back and forth on the airstrip in the back and cussed a blue streak where Momma and the girls couldn’t hear her. Damn it to hell and back, there were times she just hated being a female.

F
RITZI DIDN
’
T KNOW IT
, yet, but things were starting to move in her direction. Even before the war started, two highly skilled American
women flyers, Jackie Cochran and Nancy Harkness Love, had started to plant the idea with the military higher-ups that if war came, the United States should seriously consider training women to fly military planes so that they could perform ferrying missions, flying new planes from the factories where they were built to the military bases. This would free the men up for combat service. England already had women flying ferrying missions and were successfully completing assignments. Russia even had female combat pilots. Eleanor Roosevelt said publicly, “Women pilots … are a weapon waiting to be used.”

But in the United States, when the subject was approached with the top brass, they said that the idea of women ever flying planes for the military was absurd and completely out of the question. Women were far too high-strung and emotional. Flying was and always would be a man’s job. This was their attitude, until the war actually started, aircraft production increased, and a shortage of male pilots ensued. In late 1942, these very same men suddenly had a change of heart and had to admit that maybe it was not such a bad idea after all.

A list was compiled of all the women in America with flying experience and a pilot’s license, and telegrams were sent out asking if they would be interested in flying military planes for the U.S. government, and if so, to please report to the Howard Hughes Airport in Houston, Texas.

Fritzi opened her telegram and read it. Was she interested? She was not only interested, she couldn’t wait. She talked it over with Poppa, and he gave her his blessing. Momma cried in her apron again and said, “It’s all Billy Bevins’s fault that Fritzi won’t stay home.”

When she told the girls she was leaving, they were sad to see her go. But they were also proud and excited to think that their big sister was going to be flying planes for the United States of America government.

H
OUSTON
, T
EXAS

F
RITZI ARRIVED AT THE TRAIN STATION IN
H
OUSTON AND WAS PICKED
up, along with a bunch of other girls from all over the country. They were driven over to either the Bluebonnet Hotel or the Oleander Motor Court, where they would be staying until they could get into the new barracks out at Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas.

The next morning, they were all out at the base for orientation. On their first break, Fritzi walked into the rec room to get a Coke, and she suddenly heard a familiar voice say, “Well, lookie at what the cat done drug in.”

Fritzi looked over, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. Sitting over in the corner at a table was Gussie Mintz, Billy’s old girlfriend from the Grand Rapids days. “I heard you were coming in today,” she said.

“Well, my God … Gussie! How are you?”

“Honey, I feel like a tired old poker chip, but don’t you look smart and sassy. You haven’t changed a bit. Have a seat, gal.”

Fritz threw her bag down and joined her at the table. Gussie poured her a Coke and shoved it over.

“Well, is that son of a bitch Billy Bevins still alive?”

Fritzi laughed. “Oh, yeah, he’s still with us.”

“Well, shit, and I was hoping to hear some good news. Where is he? In jail, I hope.”

“No. He’s down in Pensacola, teaching cadets.”

“Really? Well, they must be desperate if they took that fool. You two ever get hitched?”

“No. You know Billy.”

“Yeah, I know Billy. But still together?”

Fritzi nodded. “On and off. You know Billy.”

“Well, at least you hung in there. But enough about him. What do you think about the gals getting to fly? Isn’t it great?”

“It’s terrific. Finally, they came to their senses.”

“Too bad they won’t let us go military officially, yet. Hell, if they did, them Japs and Krauts wouldn’t last a day between me and you. If nothing else, I could cuss them to death.”

Fritzi laughed. “You could for sure, but from what I heard on the bus coming in, it could be happening any day now. Are you down here training?”

Gussie shook her head sadly. “Naw … I still have my pilot’s license, but I can’t fly no more, Fritzi. I lost my nerve.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah, after I left the act and sobered up a little, I just couldn’t do it no more. When I got the letter, I told them I couldn’t fly, but that I wanted in on it even if it ain’t no more than sweeping out hangars or cleaning toilets, so here I am … a lot older and not one damn bit wiser, but still here.”

“I’m glad you are, pal,” said Fritzi.

“Yeah, me too. After all these years, I wound up right back where I started out. I’m slinging hash over at the mess hall, but I’m doing it for Uncle Sam and the gals, so it ain’t so bad.”

P
OINT
C
LEAR
, A
LABAMA

A
FTER TALKING IT OVER WITH
E
ARLE
,
AND AS MUCH AS SHE WAS DREADING
it, Sookie decided she really had to tell the children. They had a right to know about their genetic background. As planned, she would start with Dee Dee, and it was not going to be easy. Dee Dee was devoted to her grandmother and had always dined out on being a Simmons. Sookie was afraid that when she found out the news, she would throw a complete hysterical hissy fit. So she decided that Miss Busby’s Pink Tea Room in downtown Mobile, near Dee Dee’s office, would be the perfect place. Nobody ever raised their voices in there. At least she hoped not.

Sookie screwed her courage to the wall and called Dee Dee at work. Two days later, they were seated in a lovely little pink booth over in the corner. After they had been served their tea, Sookie said, “I haven’t been here in a long time. I forgot what a pleasant place it is.”

“Yes, Grandmother loves it here.”

“I can see why. Such lovely little watercress sandwiches. We should meet like this more often. I think it’s important that mothers and daughters stay close, don’t you? Speaking of that, I was doing a little reading, and did you know that as a rule, Polish people are good-natured, hardworking, and loyal?”

“Really?” said Dee Dee, clearly not engaged.

“Yes, I thought it was very interesting. And were you aware that Chopin and Liberace were of Polish descent?”

“Yes, I know.”

“And here’s another little fun fact. The Poles excel not only at the piano, but on the accordion as well.”

“Yes, so? Who cares, Mother?”

Sookie paused. “Well … you might.”

Dee Dee looked at her. “Mother, why are you talking about all this stuff? You’re beginning to worry me. Are you all right? You just don’t seem like yourself today.”

“Well, it’s funny you should say that, Dee Dee … because that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. The truth is, honey, I really am not myself—or at least who I thought I was—and here’s the bad news: Unfortunately, neither are you.”

“What?”

“Oh, Dee Dee, this is so hard for me. And believe me, it was a shock to me as well, and I thought about not telling you … but you need to know, especially if you have children.”

“Mother, what are you talking about?”

“Well … a few months ago, Lenore received a letter, and naturally I read it, thinking it was a bill or something.”

“Yes?”

“Well, it was from the Texas Board of Health, and I found out that your grandmother—now promise me you won’t get upset.”

“Okay, you found out that … what?”

“That my mother—your grandmother—is not really my real mother, and when I say ‘real,’ I mean that we are not related to her … that, in fact … I was adopted.”

Dee Dee smiled. “You are kidding me. This is a joke, right?”

“No. I have the letter right here and my birth certificate. And you can read it if you want—but only if you promise not to scream and make a scene. Do you promise?”

“Okay, I promise. Let me see it.”

Dee Dee took it and read it, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

“Honey, keep your voice down.”

“Mother, do you realize what this means?”

“Yes, among other things, it means we are not related by blood to either Uncle Baby or Aunt Lily. At least that’s some consolation.”

“No, Mother! It means that if you are not a Simmons, then I’m not a Simmons!”

“That’s true, but considering the heredity factor in—”

“But it can’t be true—I’ve
always
been a Simmons!”

“I know … it’s very shocking, and I’m still having a hard time believing it. But evidently, it’s true.”

“Have you told Daddy?”

“Of course.”

“What did Daddy say? Was he upset?”

“Well, he was surprised … but not upset.”

Dee Dee suddenly looked ashen. “But how can I not be a Simmons? I feel like a Simmons. I’ve
always
felt like a Simmons.”

“I know you have, honey, and I also know how much that has always meant to you, and that’s why I hated to tell you.”

Dee Dee continued staring at the birth certificate. “Your real name is Ginger Jurdabralinski? Like our
dog,
Ginger?”

“Yes.”

Dee Dee looked at her with horror, and her voice was getting louder and louder with each new discovery. “Your real mother’s name was Fritzi Willinka Jurdabralinski?”