The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion (37 page)

“I don’t know. Another couple of months, I guess.”

“Well, the good news is the way those flying suits fit, nobody will be able to tell for quite a while, so you can keep flying. But at the first sign, when you reach the point you think you can’t go anymore, call me. And let me take it from there.”

Fritzi walked into the office of a friend, who was the head nurse of the base hospital. Nurse Joan Speirs looked up, happy to see her. “Fritzi! Hello, you old slug. How are you?”

“Hiya, pal,” Fritzi said, then she closed the door behind her and sat down. “Listen, I’ve got a situation, and I need a little help.”

A year earlier, before Joan’s husband, Don, was shipped overseas, Fritzi had taken a big chance and smuggled him on a flight from Grand Rapids to Dallas and had gotten Joan and Don a room off base so they could spend the weekend together before he left. He had been killed a month later. She was more than glad to do Fritzi a favor.

About three and a half months later, after a visit to Nurse Speirs, Sophie was officially put on sick leave. Diagnosis: unknown viral infection. Nurse Speirs arranged for her to stay in a private clinic in Amarillo until the baby girl was born.

A couple weeks later, Gussie Mintz asked around and found a couple in Sweetwater who would keep the baby, and as soon as she could, Sophie returned to flying. But every free second she had, she spent with her baby. She said after the WASPs were disbanded, she would probably just go somewhere and get a job. She knew she couldn’t go home, but she couldn’t give up her baby, either. As she told her sister, “Oh, Fritzi! I’ve never loved anything so much in my life.”

T
HEN
,
JUST THREE WEEKS
before the WASPs were to be sent home for good, the accident happened. It was a midair collision, and Sophie Marie had been killed instantly.

F
RITZI COULD SEE THAT
S
OOKIE WAS UPSET AT THE NEWS
. “I’
M SORRY
to have to tell you this, but you needed to know.”

“Yes.”

“And I did wonder about you a lot. But to come totally clean with you, I guess the other reason I didn’t look for you was that I didn’t want to have to face you. The truth is, your mother should never have been in Sweetwater in the first place, and it really was my fault that she was there at all. Oh, I wrote her a letter and told her how rough it all would be, but I could have stopped her if I had tried hard enough, and I didn’t. And I should have. I always knew deep down she didn’t belong there, but I think there was another part of me that thought it would be great to have three Jurdabralinski girls flying for the WASPs. It was a show-off kind of a thing. I was always such a damn show-off. If I had been thinking about her, instead of me, she might be alive today.

“Anyway, after I got back to Sweetwater from your mother’s funeral, I found out that the couple that had been taking care of you were moving back to Ohio, and I couldn’t take you home. I had promised Sophie I would never tell our parents what happened. She was always Momma’s good girl. Hell, we always thought she was going to be a nun, and it would’ve broken Momma’s heart if she had found out. So I didn’t know what to do. God knows I couldn’t take care of
you, and I wanted you to have a shot at a good life with a real family, ya know?

“Anyhow, my pal Pinks had just seen some movie called
Blossoms in the Dust
about some woman in Texas that ran an orphanage, so she checked it out. They were full up, but they gave us the name of another place, so she called and set it up, but they told her she had to get there as soon as possible, because they only had room for one more. So that night around two
A
.
M
., a friend of mine named Gussie Mintz picked you up and smuggled you onto the base. It was freezing that night, so Pinks and I wrapped you up in a leather flying suit, and Elroy gassed up a plane and had it ready to go. The two of us flew you over to Houston and got back before anyone noticed a plane was missing. I won’t lie to you. I was going to walk in and hand you over and say we didn’t know who you belonged to—that we’d just found you somewhere—but when the time came, I couldn’t do it. You were just so damn little, ya know, and I guess I wanted you to know that you had belonged to somebody, so I put my name down on the birth certificate. I figured if for any reason Momma and Poppa ever did find out about you, it wouldn’t have been such a shock. I was always a wild hare. It’s kinda funny now, because I was never the maternal type, you know? Did I hate to leave you? You’re darn tootin’. But the way things were going, I didn’t know what else to do, so for better or worse, I did what I thought was best. And there you have it.”

“I see.”

“Oh, pal, believe me. You were better off. Maybe if it had been a different time, things might have been … different. But I tried to do the best I could for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did. And I’ve had a wonderful life. So … you’re really my aunt.”

“That’s right. I didn’t know if I was going to tell you. But after meeting you, and seeing what a nice sweet kid you are … you deserve to know the truth.”

“I see.”

“Your adopted parents were nice? You liked them?”

“Oh, yes, very much.”

“Took you to church, did they?”

“Oh, yes. And that was another question. Am I Catholic?”

“No. Your mother and I tried to have you baptized, but that damned Irish priest said he wouldn’t do it unless we had a marriage certificate. I’ve been a lapsed Catholic ever since, but now that I’m older, I go every now and then. Take what you like and leave the rest behind, you know. I’m sorry to have thrown so much at you. I could have let you go on believing I was your mother, but you need to know about your real mother. She wasn’t a tough old broad like me. And I’ll bet you’re just like her. A true-blue lady to the core.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve tried to be a lady, whatever that means.”

“No, you’re a good girl. I can tell. You’re more like your mother than you know. She never tooted her own horn, and as pretty as she was, she was never stuck up. If she had a fault, it was that she was too tenderhearted. We used to call her Saint Francis of Pulaski. She was always bringing stray cats and dogs home, taking care of sick birds …”

“Oh, did she like birds?”

“Oh, yeah. One time, she had this old crow that used to eat right out of her hand.”

“Really? I like birds, too.”

“See? And I want you to know something else about your mother. She loved you.”

“She did?”

“Oh yes. You were her entire world, and if she had not had the accident, she would have kept you. She never for one moment thought of giving you up.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. No question about it. Your mother loved you more than you will ever know.”

L
ATER
, S
OOKIE CHECKED INTO
her room at the little Solvang Gardens Hotel, not far from Fritzi. It was a sweet little room with a small kitchen, and it had a small garden in the back. That night, she looked at the photograph of Sophie that Fritzi had given her. My God, she was, as Fritzi said, the prettiest sister, and she did look shy. Sookie knew that look so well. She had seen it on her own face so many times before.

Fritzi had let her take some books that had been written about the WASPs back to the hotel, and she sat up that night and read all about them and what they had done, and she was in awe of all of them.

When she finished, she gave them back and said, “Thank you for letting me read these. Wow, I had no idea. Just think, Fritzi, you are all legends.”

Fritzi laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“But you are. It must have been quite an exciting time in your life.”

“Oh, yeah, it was, but you ask any veteran of World War II, and they will tell you the same thing. I try not to live in the past like some of these old geezers. I’m pretty happy with the present. But looking back now, I can tell you, those years were pretty damn special. I used to hate it when I heard all that talk about us being the greatest generation. But now, looking back at how young we all were, and when you think about how we started the war with almost nothing, and how everybody pulled together … the soldiers got most of the glory, but it was also those gals and guys working day and night, cranking out all those planes and tanks and ships that won the war. And you know, it’s funny. It never occurred to any of us that we wouldn’t win. So now when I think about all we accomplished in just four years, I have to agree, we were great. We didn’t know it at the time, of course. I was one of the lucky ones. I got to do what I loved and serve my country, too. None of us felt like a hero. We were just doing what everybody else was doing, only we were doing it in the air.

“It was a magic bubble of time. You knew you had to live for the moment, and we all felt so alive. The music seemed like it was written just for us. Hell, we thought we were saving the world, and in a way, we did. Who can say what would have happened if we hadn’t come into the war when we did? We could all be speaking German or Japanese right now. Who knows? But as hard as it was, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“It seems like we were always moving. I don’t remember ever getting more than two or three hours’ sleep. None of us did. I think we lived on adrenaline. We were too excited to sleep. None of us thought much about what would happen after the war, and then when we were
told the WASPs were being disbanded, and it was all over, it was tough. Of course, it wasn’t only us. It was all the gals that had stepped in during wartime and gone to work at the factories and everywhere else where they were needed. And now we were being told to go home and be happy to be housewives again. Some of them were glad to go home, but a lot of the gals found out they liked being independent and on their own and wanted to keep working, but they were told that it was unpatriotic to take a job away from a returning soldier. It was quite a kick in the teeth, particularly for the WASPs. All that we did to prove ourselves didn’t mean a thing. They just wanted us to go away and pretend it never happened. Even our records were classified.

“Then back in 1976, when ten women began flight training for the U.S. Air Force, a Pentagon press release touted them as ‘the first women military pilots,’ and I called Jamsie and Nancy and Dinks and they hit the roof. ‘Hell, no. We were the first.’ None of us were winners, but we knew what was fair. So a group of us got together again and decided we weren’t going to let all those gals who died, your mother or any of them, just be forgotten.”

T
HE NEXT DAY
, F
RITZI
picked Sookie up and took her to lunch at the Alisal River Grill, where Fritzi often played golf. After they had ordered, Sookie asked her if she had ever met her real father.

“Just once. A real quick hello and good-bye. But I can tell you his name. It was James Brunston. I don’t know his middle name.”

“What did he look like?”

“He looked very healthy, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sookie laughed. “No, I mean was he tall? Short?”

“Geez, honey, it was over sixty years ago now, but I remember that he was a tall, good-looking blond guy with blue eyes. You got your mother’s hair, but I think you got his nose.”

“What was he like?”

“Oh, he seemed nice enough. Of course, later when I found out what he had pulled on Sophie, I changed my mind.

“But you know, looking back on it now, I realize that it was a different time. People were scared, and all bets were off. We all sort of
lived for the moment. We had to. That’s all we had. None of us knew if we even had a future, so we grabbed for every little slice of happiness we could. I know I did. And who’s to say? He could have loved your mother, and maybe he would have come back. Who knows? Not to excuse him, but this kind of thing happened. Boys fell madly in love with girls they didn’t even know. Boys were desperate to get married. Hell, I could have married a hundred different boys if I had wanted to. All they knew was that they could be killed any day, and I guess they wanted to leave something or someone behind to prove that at least they had been here.

“Me, I got lucky. After the war, me and Billy moved out here and started a little flight school, and we had forty good years together. After we retired, we traveled. We had a little plane, and I flew us wherever we wanted to go. I can’t complain. I’ve had a damn good life, and I’ve lived long enough to see the gals fly jets and finally get a chance. And it feels good to know you helped open up a little window for them, ya know?”

S
OOKIE STAYED ON IN
Solvang for a week and visited with Fritzi every day. They usually had either lunch or dinner together, and the rest of the time, she just wandered around town, talking to people, and it was wonderful. Here in Solvang, she wasn’t Lenore Simmons’s daughter. For the first time in years, she was just herself. She met a lot of Fritzi’s friends, and she even made some friends of her own. Two nice ladies visiting from Japan invited her to have dinner with them, and she had breakfast with the sweetest couple, Susan and Michael Beckman from Tenafly, New Jersey. And she met the cutest lady, named Linda Peckham, in the hotel spa.

She called Earle every night, and in one conversation, he said, “Honey, I haven’t heard you sound so happy in a long time.” And it was true.

O
N HER LAST DAY
in California, she and Fritzi went to the old Spanish mission for mass and had dinner at Bit o’ Denmark restaurant.

When they had finished dinner, Sookie said, “Uh … Fritzi, before I go home, could I ask you one more question? I’m really curious about the name Ginger. Did you name me after someone in your family?”

Fritzi laughed. “No, sorry about that, kid. The night we took you in, when they were filling out the birth certificate, and they asked me what your name was, it was the first name I came up with. I was a big fan of Ginger Rogers.”

“Oh, as in Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh, how nice. I love her.”

“Yeah? Me, too. I met her once, and she was a pretty swell dame on the screen and off. But you did have a real name—the name your mother gave you.”