Viewing page 77 of 102

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

7

Evidently we did a good deal with Barbara and Charlie Reed. The Wednesday after the "night life" at the Lawrence, we had them over to the house in the evening to play Monopoly. The diary notes that I "won again, seeming to do so most of the time for some unknown reason." All of which tells me there have always been streaks of luck, both good and bad. Also, it indicates that we played Monopoly frequently.

On this same day, there was a personal tragedy, or so it seemed, for Dick Lamborn, although it occurred at the plant. Dick had an old, tweed overcoat that he wore to work and on this occasion, he was over at Bldg. 60 and left the coat hanging on the open door of the "windroom" of the Ingersoll-Rand Illinois Central locomotive. When Metzner started the radiator fans, the coat was sucked in and reduced to shreds as it passed through the huge fans. Everyone even including Dick, seemed to get considerable amusement out of the incident. However, Barbara Reed says that actually, Dick cherished the coat deeply and was secretly quite broken up by the affair--something like me and my old hats.

The next day, I have quite a comment on Phyllis Adams who is now Jack Brightfelt's wife. Phyllis worked on the staff of the Works News at the time. I'd written up an item on the demise of  Dick's cherished overcoat and took it in to Phyllis to see if they'd put it into the Works News. I have this comment on her in my diary: "Here is a lovely girl, an unusual girl. I know it from the little column 'With the Women' which she writes for the News. She has a beautiful mind and a beautiful body--tall, dark, handsome, health sparkling in her lovely face and black eyes. She loves beauty--I know it from the things she writes. It would be a rare privelege to know her better." Phyllis is quite an athlete, something I didn't know at the time. She still plays tennis and she firmly refuses to accept any invitations to anything that would conflict with her watching the World Series in early October.

On Friday night, December 13th, we attended the College Women's Club dance after imbibing cocktails at the Reeds first. The diary notes that Ethel and Jake Brauns were at the Reeds also and imbibing so "Prohibition must be over in fancy as well as fact." Jake and Ethel were supposedly teetotalers. I record that I had "a pretty good time but don't know enough of the people there." In the Paul Jones, I landed with a tall, dark, rather attractive girl who immediately gushed, "What is your name?" To my answer, "Craton," she came back beaming, "Who are you with here tonight?" My reply, "Mrs. Craton," seemed to stop her for a moment. She told me she was Mary Chaffee, daughter of Dr. Chaffee. I'm told, or rather, I was told later that she was very brilliant--Phi Beta Kappa, master's degree, etc. In my diary I comment that "if this were years ago, I might be getting quite a thrill out of it." Mary Chaffee ultimately married
George Benedict, the business manager now retired of the Church of the Covenant. We know them both slightly; in fact, I saw George today at the Y-Mens lunch.