Between Friends

July 10, 1962

220 Railroad Avenue

Pine Ridge, Washington

Dear Judge and Mrs. Lawton,

Thank you so much for inviting me to the Seattle World’s Fair with you and Jillian. I had a wonderful time, even if we didn’t get to see Elvis. I especially loved taking the elevator to the top of the Space Needle and riding on the monorail. I’m sorry I can’t go to Hawaii with Jillian, but my mom and dad need me at home. It was very nice of you to include me. Perhaps someday I’ll see the islands.

Thank you again.

Sincerely,

Lesley Adamski

August 8, 1962

Dear Jillian,

Summer is so boring without you. I wish I could be with you in Hawaii, but I need the babysitting money for my school uniform. Did you hear that Marilyn Monroe died? Mom didn’t like her because she was too sexy.

Susan and I went to the movies last Saturday and saw John Wayne in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. It was good, but I would’ve had more fun with you than my little sister. Dad said spending 25¢ to see a movie is a waste. I didn’t tell him popcorn went up to 10¢ a bag.

Call me over at Mrs. Johnson’s house the minute you get home. I have a lot to tell you.

Your Best Friend Forever,

Lesley

September 4th

English Class

Lesley,

Here we are, the first day of HIGH SCHOOL. Don’t you just want to die with happiness? I was disappointed we aren’t in the same homeroom, though. Someone must have told Sister Anna Marie that you and I are best friends. They want to keep us apart, but nothing ever will. At least, we’ve got English and algebra together.

Can you meet me after school? We need to practice the watusi. I can do the bossa nova but this new dance is more complicated. Thank you for saying I can twist better than Chubby Checker. Now all we need is for a couple of boys to invite us to a dance so we can show everyone how good we are.

I heard Sister Bernice grades easy in English.

Jillian

October 22nd

Algebra Class

Jillian,

Do you think we’re going to war? This is so scary. Even my dad was talking about it. I can’t concentrate on algebra, can you? Mom went to Mass this morning to pray for peace. Cuba wouldn’t really bomb us, would they?

Lesley

Algebra Class

Lesley,

I don’t know if there will be a war or not, but if there is you can come in the bomb shelter with me. I’ve already told my parents that I refuse to go inside without you. Do you want to sleep over tonight? We can camp out in the shelter. In case something does happen, we’ll be safe.

Jillian

P.S. If the politicians listened to the music of Joan Baez and the New Christy Minstrels, I bet this wouldn’t be happening.

Holy Name Academy

230 First Street

Pine Ridge, Washington 98005

November 1, 1962

Dear Judge and Mrs. Lawton,

Thank you for your generous financial contribution to Holy Name Academy. It is because of benefactors such as yourselves that the Sisters of Providence are able to offer high-quality education to the young Catholic women of Pine Ridge.

You can trust that the matter of the scholarships for Lesley and Susan Adamski will be handled in the most discreet manner possible. Neither the girls nor their parents need ever know that you have paid their tuition in advance. I have discussed the matter with Mother Superior; she felt it would be best if the girls were awarded scholarships and nothing more was said. I’m confident, however, that if Lesley and Susan Adamski were aware of your generosity, they would express their gratitude personally.

Again, your generous check is appreciated.

In Christ’s Service

Sister Martin de Porres

Lesley’s Diary

December 4, 1962

Scott kissed Jillian and she said it was the most romantic, wonderful event of her entire life. She asked Scott McDougal to the Sadie Hawkins dance and I asked Roy Kloster. Jillian’s dad picked us all up in his new Cadillac. It was my first official date and Roy brought me a corsage. My mother pinned it on my dress—and then embarrassed me by saying in front of Roy how pretty I was.

Jillian and I spent all afternoon with our hair in pink rollers, the hard plastic ones. Her mother said we used enough hair spray for our hairdos to survive hurricane-force winds.

I was barely home from the dance when Jillian phoned to tell me that Scott kissed her. She described everything he did, and it sounded better than anything we’ve read in Modern Screen Magazine or Movie Life. I don’t think I’ll ever be kissed. I’m planning on joining the Peace Corps and dedicating my life to helping children in Africa.

I wanted Roy to kiss me, but all he did was hold my hand. He barely spoke to me all evening. I didn’t talk much either. I knew Roy from Junior High and when I called to ask him to the dance, he sounded like he wanted to go. Mikey has a paper route now and he delivers to Roy’s house on Maple Street. He thinks Roy wants me to be his girlfriend.

Mom said Roy is shy, but I am, too. If we’re both afraid to talk, we could be seventeen before either one of us gets up the courage to do more than gawk at the other. I want romance and music, the same way Jillian had with Scott. Maybe someday I’ll meet a boy who won’t be afraid to kiss me…and I won’t be afraid to let him. Until then I’m keeping the idea of joining the Peace Corps in the back of my mind.

Even if Roy didn’t kiss me, I had a wonderful time at the dance. I’m going to sleep now and dream about being kissed. Susan’s still awake and she keeps pestering me. She thinks I should kiss Dr. Kildare. If I can’t get Roy Kloster interested in me, there isn’t much chance a famous television star like Richard Chamberlain would want to kiss me. Besides, I like Ben Casey better.

1963

Lesley’s Diary

January 1, 1963

Mom and Dad had another one of their fights. They woke all us kids in the middle of the night, ranting and raving at each other. Lily and Bruce came racing into Susan’s and my bedroom and climbed into bed with us. I don’t know what the fight was about this time. Probably money. Or Dad’s drinking. I wish he didn’t drink so much, but he says a beer or two never hurt anybody. Only it does. It hurts Mom when Dad gets so mean. It frightens Lily and Bruce. They’re too young to understand what’s happening or why Dad gets the way he does. All he cares about is his beer, his Legionnaire friends and watching The Beverly Hillbillies.

Christmas was awful. Dad got laid off at the mill before Thanksgiving, and we couldn’t afford gifts. Mom wrapped up empty boxes with handwritten promises. She promised me a new pair of shoes and a Beatles album after Dad goes back to work. She promised Susan a perm and Mikey a used bike for his paper route. Joe got a picture of a fire truck and Lily a doll that cries Mama when she’s turned upside down. Bruce didn’t understand why he couldn’t have his big red wagon now. I don’t know what we would have done for Christmas dinner if Catholic Charities hadn’t dropped off the food basket. I’d hate it if anyone at school found out how poor we really are. I’d die before I’d tell Jillian about my pretend gift. Her parents had 22 gifts under the tree for her. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have that many presents.

They’re so nice, her mom and dad. They always give me something for Christmas—I got this new diary with my name on it, just like last year, and a beautiful blue sweater. I know envy is a sin and Jillian’s my best friend but I wish I had parents like hers.

I’m sure the nightmare Lily had was caused by Mom and Dad’s argument. She slept with me the rest of the night and woke up sobbing and wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. Then she clung to me and made me promise I’d never grow up and move away. She wouldn’t stop pestering me until I told her I’d live at home forever, but I crossed my ankles when I said it. I want to leave. I can’t wait to get away from my father. Jillian and I talk about college. Her parents want her to attend Barnard College in New York. Everything’s already been settled for her. She has a big trust fund to pay for college. I pretend there’s a chance I’ll be able to go. But Mom and Dad could never afford to send me. Jillian doesn’t realize how lucky she is.

Even if we were rich, I don’t think Dad would let me go to college. He told me he didn’t plan on wasting money to educate girls, seeing that we wouldn’t be the ones supporting a family. I wanted to stand up to him and tell him that plenty of girls go to university these days, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue. He’d only get mad at what he calls my “smart mouth” and belittle me. I think it’s because he didn’t graduate from high school and is afraid I’ll be smarter than he is.

Mom said if I continued to get good grades there’s a possibility I might get a scholarship. She said that if I did, she’d do whatever was necessary to find a way for me to attend college, even if that meant taking a second job. I know how much she hates working at the school cafeteria, but Mom said she’d be willing to work there and scrub floors, too, if it meant I could go to college. I wanted to cry I was so happy. Mom was serious, too. I could see it in her eyes. Then she held me against her, tight as could be, and said where there’s a will there’s a way. A hundred gifts under the Christmas tree couldn’t have made me happier than I was at that moment.

February 20, 1963

Dear Ann Landers,

I’ve tried to write this letter a dozen times. Please help me. My husband’s involved with another woman. I pretend I don’t know about her but I do and it’s eating me up inside. We have six children. Don’t tell me to leave him, because I can’t. I feel trapped and miserable, and stupid.

Dorothy A. from the Seattle area

March 7th

English Class

Les,

Wanna spend the night on Friday?

Jillian

P.S. Why do elephants have trunks? Because they don’t have glove compartments.

English Class

Jillian,

I’ll have to clear it with my mom first, but I think so. Let’s stay up all night and talk, okay? Do you have any new records? Did you notice the new boy at First Friday Mass? He’s cute!

Lesley

P.S. Why do elephants climb trees? To hide.

Jillian’s Diary

March 10, 1963

Lesley and I had the best time ever! Mom and Dad were involved in some social function at the Country Club all weekend, so we had the house to ourselves. On Friday we stayed up all night and read Profiles in Courage by John F. Kennedy. We did it for extra credit in Sister Sebastian’s English class, but it was the best book I ever read on purpose about history. First Lesley would read a chapter aloud and then I’d read the next one. We didn’t mean to finish the entire book, but we couldn’t stop reading. Lesley said I look a little bit like Jackie Kennedy. Jackie’s much prettier than I am and so graceful and elegant.

The only reason Lesley said that is because Jackie and I both have dark hair. It would be like me saying Lesley looks like Marilyn Monroe did (before she died!) because she’s blonde.

Anyway, after we read, we listened to the radio. My favorite singer is still Roy Orbison and Lesley likes Peter, Paul and Mary. We talked for a long time afterward. Mostly it was about boys and school. I’d rather go to a coed high school, but an all-girl is okay, too. I bet we’d meet more guys, though, if we went to a regular school.

I wonder what it would be like to fall in love and marry. Lesley insists that she doesn’t want to get married until she’s out of college, but I do. I want a romance just like John and Jackie Kennedy’s. I don’t know anyone I’d want to marry yet. Not even Scott. I asked Mom how she knew Dad was the right man for her and she got a goofy look on her face and said she just knew. That didn’t tell me anything. It was the same way last year when my periods started. Mom hardly explained anything. She seemed embarrassed about it, mumbled a few words and then handed me two safety pins and a pad. If it hadn’t been for Lesley starting first, I wouldn’t have known what to do. In biology class, Sister Mary Clare said that our periods tie in with having babies but I’m still not sure how. It’s like a deep, dark mystery no one wants to talk about. Lesley tried to check out a book at the library that explained everything but the librarian said she had to be eighteen to take it out of the building. When we went back to read it together, the book was missing. Lesley thinks the librarian saw us coming and hid it.

Oh, I almost forgot! My birthday gift finally arrived. I have my own television now. I don’t know anyone else in school who has her own TV. Dad had it built right into the wall. Lesley’s going to spend the night next month so we can watch the Oscars. I really hope Sidney Poitier wins Best Actor for Lilies of the Field. Lesley and I liked that movie better than any of the other movies we saw this year. Everyone talked about how wicked Tom Jones was, but I just thought it was silly. Lesley and I both learned something valuable from that movie. Neither of us can tell a lie and not feel guilty about it. We told our parents we were going to some other show and instead we went to Tom Jones and we both regretted lying. It was hard because Dad picked us up afterward and I wanted to blurt out the truth the moment I saw him. I didn’t, but he knew something was bothering me. Dad didn’t pressure me into telling him and I’m glad he didn’t. I wouldn’t want to see the disappointment on his face when he learned I’d deceived him.

This summer, instead of going to Hawaii, Dad said we might go to Disneyland. I said that would be fine as long as Lesley gets to come. Last year in Hawaii, Mom insisted Kathy Galloway tag along so I’d have company. Mom’s friends with Mrs. Galloway and she thought I’d enjoy having someone close to my own age. I would’ve liked company, but it didn’t work out. Kathy’s three years older and wasn’t interested in hanging around the hotel swimming pool with me. She was after men. Mom figured that out soon enough when she found her in the cocktail lounge flirting with a businessman. I bet Mom won’t invite Kathy again for anything, which is all right by me.

Bell’s Book Store

455 Main Street

Pine Ridge, Washington 98005

July 29, 1963

Dear Mrs. Lawton,

The Feminine Mystique is in. At your request, I have set aside a copy for you. We look forward to seeing you soon.

Ethel Cowin, Manager

Lesley’s Diary

August 29, 1963

The most incredible thing happened yesterday. Hundreds of thousands of people gathered around the Washington Monument in our country’s capital in a Civil Rights demonstration. It was on television and on the radio. Mom and I talked about what it meant to be a Negro in America. Several colored families live on the other side of the railroad tracks. Dad works with colored men at the mill. He calls them names Mom won’t let me repeat. Mom said they’re like everyone else. They bleed and sweat and breathe the same as us, despite what Dad says. I can hardly believe that the South treats people so differently just because their skin is a different color, and I told Mom that. I read that Negroes have a hard time finding a job or getting an education. That isn’t fair. Mom was born and raised in Mississippi, and she said the Civil War was about more than slavery. She explained some of the South’s history since the War Between the States (that’s what she calls it), and she helped me understand how much courage it took for this rally in Washington to happen. Then she recited a quote from an English writer named Samuel Johnson. I’m writing it down because I don’t ever want to forget it. COURAGE IS THE GREATEST OF ALL VIRTUES, BECAUSE IF YOU HAVEN’T COURAGE, YOU MAY NOT HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY TO USE ANY OF THE OTHERS. I don’t think I’ve ever realized how smart my mother is about life. (And I didn’t know who Samuel Johnson was until she talked about him.)

There’s going to be a colored man speaking at the Pine Ridge Emmanuel Church on September 6th and I told Mom I’d like to hear what he has to say. She didn’t think that was a good idea because it wouldn’t be right for a Catholic girl to be seen inside a Protestant Church. Although Mom said I couldn’t go, I had the feeling she’d like to attend the meeting herself. If I had my driver’s license and a car, I’d do it. Jillian’s taking Driver’s Education this summer. She thinks her parents might buy her a car. As it is now, her mother drives her to school every morning and her father picks her up every afternoon.

I hate being fourteen. I want to be sixteen and to be able to drive and hear the people I want to hear and meet the people I want to meet.

Jillian’s Diary

November 22, 1963

President Kennedy was killed today. Lesley and I were in Religion Class when the news came over the loudspeaker that the President had been shot. Sister Dorothy immediately had us get down on our knees and pray. No one knew then how serious it was.

It wasn’t long before we were released from school. Lesley and I went right over to church and it was already full of people pleading with God to save our President. By the time I got home, I learned he was dead. I can’t stop crying. Even my dad had tears in his eyes.

Poor Jackie. She’s the one I’m crying for. I can’t bear this. It’s so terrible. Everyone is watching television. Everyone is weeping. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t believe President Kennedy is dead.

Farewell from John Kennedy

by Lesley Adamski

Sorry I had to leave right away.

I look down and smile at you each day.

Little Patrick says to say “Hi”

And so, my darlings, please don’t cry.

Caroline, I’d like to say,

How proud Daddy was of you that day,

When you stood like a lady

and watched me go by,

And doing like Mommy, you tried not to cry.

John John, now you’re the big man.

Take care of Mommy the best that you can.

You were just like a soldier, that salute was so brave.

Thank you for the flag you put on my grave.

And Jackie, I had no time for goodbyes,

I’m sure you could read the “Farewell” in my eyes.

Watch over our children, and love them for me

I’ll treasure your love through eternity.

Please carry on as you did before,

Until we all meet on heaven’s bright shore.

Remember I love you, remember I care.

I’ll always be with you though you don’t see me there.

(This is in Memory of the late John Fitzgerald Kennedy,

whom I loved more than words can say.

I pray that I will meet him in heaven one day.)

1965

Holy Name Academy

January 20, 1965

Demerit Slip

Student: Jillian Lawton

Offense: Rolling up the uniform skirt

above the knee.

Holy Name Academy

230 First Street

Pine Ridge, Washington 98005

January 20, 1965

Dear Judge and Mrs. Lawton,

Enclosed is the demerit slip for Jillian, which I have had no choice but to issue. She has had repeated warnings about the length of her uniform skirt. Several of the Junior girls have defied the rules and each will be obliged to remain after school the first Friday of February to polish the gymnasium floor.

I appreciate your cooperation in this unfortunate situation.

Sincerely,

Sister Agnes, Principal

Jillian’s Diary

January 23, 1965

This whole detention thing is juvenile, and all because I rolled my skirt up. First, I detest wearing a uniform. I told Mom how much I hated it but she didn’t care. She says that a lot. “I don’t care” and “We aren’t going to talk about it.” Sometimes I swear she treats me like I’m ten years old. The other day I wanted to stand on my chair at the fancy new dining-room table and scream to get her attention. How else can I get her to recognize that I’m seventeen years old?

The state of Washington trusts me enough to give me a license to drive a motorized vehicle. Dad even bought me a car to go back and forth to school. It seems that if the government thinks I’m mature enough to drive, I should be smart enough to figure out what to wear to school. Apparently they think that if I had a choice, I’d wear something obnoxious like jeans and a sweatshirt. The truth is, my choices have been completely taken away from me, since I’m forced into a ridiculous school uniform. My closet is full of dresses I never get a chance to wear. I have this fear that I’ll be wearing a blue skirt and red blazer my entire life!

I love my parents, especially my dad. Both Mom and Dad are swell, but at times they can be completely irrational. They’re no better than my teachers when it comes to this uniform thing. Girls attending school in Communist Russia wear uniforms. (I don’t know that for a fact because no one really knows what’s happening in Russia except spies.) We talk about the Berlin Wall and the struggle for freedom, but we’re not all that different right here in Pine Ridge.

When I insisted that wearing uniforms was a form of Communism because it enforced sameness and obliterated personal identity, Dad said he wasn’t going to argue with me. I told him he was a coward but in a joking way, since everyone knows my dad is probably one of the truest, kindest, fairest men in the entire courthouse. I could see that he was amused and I know why. By proving my point with such a smart argument, I’m showing my parents that I’d be a good attorney. Actually I like to argue. I enjoy flustering people and proving my point. It gives me a sense of satisfaction.

I flustered the kid at the gas station the other day, but I didn’t mean to. He was young, probably about thirteen. He wanted to wash my windshield, but couldn’t reach the middle of the glass so I got out of my car and did it for him. Then his big brother showed up and finished the job for us both. I don’t think any boy has ever affected me like this. His name was embroidered on his coveralls. Nick. He’s the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. One look told me he was a break-all-the-rules kind of guy. My heart was going crazy. I wasn’t about to let him know the effect he had on me, so I casually stepped aside and let him take over.

When he was finished, I paid him the $3.09 to fill up my tank. As soon as I pulled away, I looked in my rearview mirror and found Nick watching me. Then he grinned—and I nearly steered off the road. I felt that smile go right through me, the same way I do when the cat lies across my chest and purrs. I think I might be buying gas at the Texaco station a lot more often. Not soon, though. My driving privileges have been suspended for two weeks because of that demerit slip. I’m furious about it, but no amount of arguing would change my mother’s mind. As far as I’m concerned, Mom is the unreasonable one in our family.

P.S. I found out that Nick goes to Pine Ridge High and he’s a Junior (same as me).

Lesley’s Diary