Newlywed Love (#40)

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March 12, 1970

Nate loved to touch soft things – a newborn’s cheek, a silk scarf, a kitten’s fur. He also loved touching ear lobes, mine in particular. Often as we talked he’d reach over and gently brush my ear without even realizing he was doing it.

Pussy willowsAs a little boy, Nate had discovered pussy willow branches and told me he’d been fascinated by their soft grey buds (or “catkins”) in early spring. His Uncle Bob had interested him further by telling him if he put some catkins into a saucer of milk, each one would grow into a little kitty.

Of course the young Nathan tried it, but all he learned was not to believe everything that came out of Uncle Bob’s mouth.

I knew of Nate’s interest in pussy willows and one day in March decided to buy a single branch, just for him. The long stem was loaded with fluffy buds, each one super-soft.

Pussy willow catkinsThe next morning, he was still asleep when I left for school, having burned the midnight oil over law books the previous night. Before I left, I set out a box of cereal, bowl, spoon, and some milk, placing the pussy willow branch across the bowl as a special surprise.

When I returned from a day of teaching, I found a sweet note he’d written that made reference to John and Cathy’s cat, Jeanette. He had taped a few pussy willow buds to the card:

“Are these little Jeanette’s paws? How did these little pussycat feet get in Big Bear’s porridge? Hmmm?”

NoteApparently a couple of the soft catkins had dropped into his bowl before he’d seen it that morning, prompting his comment.

I loved knowing my busy husband took time out to write me a silly note, acknowledging my gift. And I was pleased he was gentle enough to enjoy touching soft things. Maybe that was because he had told me the softest thing in all the world, even softer than a pussy willow bud…. was me.

“Pursue…. gentleness.” (1 Timothy 6:11)

Newlywed Love (#39)

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March 9, 1970

About this time, Nate and I received a long letter from Mom that had us laughing at the beginning but disturbed by the end:

Your father and I attended a co-ed baby shower on Friday. It was different having the daddies there, and you would have gotten some jollies out of seeing the fathers diaper and dress some large baby dolls. It was hilarious! We timed them. Those poor dolls…

Then she wrote:

From there we dropped in on Aunt Agnes and partied further. Your pa and I were driving separately, since I had had to be at the shower early. So, as I arrived home first, it was 12:30 AM. Dad was 15 minutes behind me.

When I unlocked the back door and stepped into the house, everything was topsy-turvey. Burglars!

Police.I hurried back outside to the front of the house to await your father but then noticed the front door was standing open and bedroom shades were pulled down. I ran next door where they helped me call the police, who came in just a few minutes. They asked us to stay outside while they searched the house.

When your dad finally arrived and we got back inside, we saw the definition of the words “ransacked house.” Every drawer had been pulled out and overturned, and there are many of them. The closets were torn apart, clothes walked on, boxes torn in haste. All kitchen cabinets were opened, though nothing was taken from those.

Books.The den was the worst. They had pulled every book off our wall of bookshelves and thrown stationary everywhere – looking for cash. The officer said it was strictly profess- sionals looking for money and jewels. The police found that they had removed a grate off the basement window well, broken the window, and come through.

Dad lost the new engraved watch he was given at his retirement party, and they took the treasury of my women’s club, $85 [about $575 today].

This is a jolting, revolting experience. But let me say, we are counting our blessings. It all could have been so much worse.

Then she went back to her usual jovial style of writing:

Glad you’re making a fast quarter-hundred by giving blood. Remember, “The life is in the blood.”

After reporting the family news, she ended by referencing the biblical John’s writing:

As John writes in his epistles, “my little children,” so I write. Be good. And rest assured of our love and prayers.  Mom

She was remarkable in her casual attitude about the break-in, and we wondered if recovering from the shock of it was as easy as she made it out to be. But as she had often said, “I never have to worry about a thing. Your father does enough of that for both of us.”

It was true. I saw her consistently live that philosophy throughout my growing-up years, and I suppose it’s a pretty good attitude for all of us to emulate. God instructs us not to worry about things, because the Father “worries about things” (i.e. takes care them) enough for all of us.

Jesus said, “I tell you not to worry about everyday life. Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Don’t worry about tomorrow.” (Matthew 6:25,27,34)

Newlywed Love (#38)

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March 4, 1970

Living in a university town offered us lots of opportunities to see interesting shows and hear fascinating people. One of those scheduled to lecture on campus was a famous trial lawyer Nate wanted to hear – William Kunstler.

Chicago SevenKunstler was America’s most controversial and best-known lawyer in 1970. He had been the defender of a group of young men called The Chicago 7 who’d been accused of conspiring to incite riots during the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago.

StudentsOutside the convention hall there had been hundreds of arrests and these 7 young men had passionately urged protesters to fight the police when they tried to disperse the crowds. Mayor Daly put 23,000 police officers on the street to control 10,000 demonstrators, and it had been chaotic for both sides throughout the 4-day convention.

All 7 of the “conspirators” (and later an 8th) had been charged, but thanks to Kunstler, none of them were found guilty after the 5 month trial. Nate thought it would be interesting to hear him speak, despite being the polar opposite of Kunstler’s liberal views.

At the last minute, however, Kunstler’s lecture was cancelled because rioting had broken out on our University of Illinois campus.

U. of IL

It was a raw time in our nation with young people protesting the Vietnam War and any kind of discrimination – of which there was plenty. Police weren’t helping the razor-sharp tension as they responded with too much force, often hurting the innocent along with the guilty.

Nate and I were disappointed not to hear Kunstler, but we were also thankful we lived off campus, away from the chaos. We did worry, though, that reserve troops like him might be called into service. The National Guard was already being used to join police on several college campuses. And that very night the Guard was put on duty at the University of Illinois.

Billy clubsIt was a frightening time of radical change for Americans, and no one knew where we were headed. The nightly news was full of violent video clips showing confrontations between students and police at scores of universities, something we’d never witnessed before. Watching a helmeted policeman hit a defenseless student with a billy club was a terrible shock.

The night of the cancelled Kunstler lecture, it was tempting to go to campus to see for ourselves what was going on. But Nate and I talked about Mary and Bervin’s experience in 1968 when they’d gone downtown to check on the protests in Grant Park.

Spraying maceAs police had coaxed crowds to disperse and people had refused, they’d sprayed mace into the group. Mary and Bervin had been greatly affected by the mace, despite trying to run away, in eyes, nose, and throat.

So wisdom dictated that the best thing for Nate and I to do was just to stay home.

“Those who trust their own insight are foolish, but anyone who walks in wisdom is safe.” (Proverbs 28:26)