Uncertain Lives

Irene looked up from her packing and was startled by her own reflection in the full-length mirror across from the bed. Hesitantly, Irene ran her hands down her figure, trying to reassure herself that after four children she was still attractive. She sometimes saw evidence that she was still attractive when she would catch a man looking at her as she walked through downtown Springfield in that way men look at women. It pleased her, such evidence, even though nothing ever came of it, because it suggested that something could still happen if she were attempt to start a new life.

In the kitchen, the only heated room in the Alert Street tenement, she could hear the sounds of the children at play. Her first child, a girl named Doris who was born in her parent's house on Hood Street but had lived only a few days, now lay forever at rest in St. Michael's cemetery. She was grateful for the four children she now had and loved them dearly, but they were also a barrier to what she had always wanted and once thought she would have.

Her thoughts wandered back to how she had first met her husband in at the Butterfly Ballroom on Dwight Street in downtown Springfield, on an evening when the Edwin J.McEnelly Orchestra was playing. She had initially refused her future husband's invitation to dance, in fact she did so twice. Irene thought her suitor was charming but too bold, and she was made even more uncertain over the fact that she smelled liquor on his breath. Irene recalled how her mother had warned her to never marry a drunkard. But he was persistent, and she could see he was a very good dancer, so finally, she accepted. They danced together for all the rest of the band's set.

 

Eventually, the band took a break, so they had a chance to sit and talk a little. She learned that he was a young Irishman called Jimmy from a large family named Flagg, but he was vague when she asked him about his employment. Yet he was funny and smart, and like her he definitely liked to have fun. "You know," Jimmy told her, "I really believe that life is one big party! And you know what else, it's MY party and I'm going to enjoy it to the fullest!" She smiled at his confidence and enthusiasm, then blushed with delight when he told her, "You know Irene, it could be OUR party!" He asked her if she was coming to Lorraine Hall to dance by the lake the following weekend. She heard herself saying yes.

As the weeks passed, Irene found herself dancing with the fun-loving, if somewhat boozy Flagg boy, until the regular crowd at the ballrooms began to think of them as a couple. Despite their growing closeness, she was surprised when he asked her to marry him so soon. This happened in March, and with little preparation, they married in April. Irene didn't even have a wedding gown until one of her future sisters-in-law offered the one she had worn just a few months before.

At their wedding in St. Michael's Cathedral, Irene was struck with a flash of panic as she stood at the altar and faced the man she was about to marry. A sudden, powerful urge struck her to turn around and just walk out of the church. However, she reassurred herself that she was just being silly, regained her composure, and went through with the ceremony. Later, at the reception at her parent's house on Hood Street, her new husband got embarrassingly drunk and argued with her sister and upset her parents over something trivial. However, she reminded herself that people often drink heavily at weddings. Irene felt confident that the drinking would moderate once her husband began to accept the responsibilities of married life.

Now, as she continued to pack her things, those Roaring 20's seemed to be in the long ago past, swept away by the current hardships of the Great Depression. The aftermath of The Crash was hardly much of a time for ballroom dancing. They rarely went out anymore. 

Yet, there were nights when they had been drinking and Irene and Jimmy would try to recapture some spirit of the optimistic frivolity of those days. They took out the Victrola from the closet in their apartment, pulled to one side the kitchen table and chairs, and as the children looked on, delighted and bewildered, they watched their parents dance around the kitchen, Irene with her eyes closed, trying to feel again that she was back in the Butterfly Ballroom and living the magic of that vanished era.

Now the party was definitely over. It had been weeks since Irene had heard from her husband. Maybe he was still in Springfield, or he might be with relatives in Hartford. For all practical purposes their marriage was over on an emotional level, and she knew that her dreams were forever dashed as long as she remained in it. That is why she was packing. Her sister had come over as Irene had asked, and knew her intentions, and she agreed to watch the kids until arrangements could be made. She hoped her kids would go to live with their grandparents in Pine Point. Whatever happened, Irene was determined to embark on a whole new life.

Her few possessions packed, Irene snapped shut the suitcase with a sense of finality. She pulled on her heavy winter coat, picked up the suitcase with all her worldly belongings, and walked through the door leading to the kitchen. The children, Haskin, Walter, Robert and little Sally, were startled into silence by the sight of their mother carrying a suitcase. They quickly made the connection. Standing there silently for a long moment, the children burst into a chorus of tears. Irene looked over at her sister, closed her eyes as she fought back a tear, and then slowly took off her hat. Something inside her had suddenly changed. Irene sadly but finally accepted that the parties of her youth were forever over and could never be recaptured again. It was time for her to grow up and face the responsibilities of the children who depended upon her and the life she had chosen, be it for better or worse.

 

 

From his base at the Butterfly Ballroom in Springfield, Massachusetts, McEnelly and his band toured the Eastern Seaboard in the 1920s playing dances and competing in "battles of the bands" (famously “beating” the Jean Goldkette band on one occasion).