The Class of
Nineteen Hundred and Sixty-six
Holy Name Academy
Announces its
Commencement Exercises
Saturday evening, May twenty-eighth
At seven o’clock
Pine Ridge Community Center
Pine Ridge, Washington
June 1, 1966
Dear Jillian,
You know I can’t stand it when we argue. You’re my best friend and we mean too much to each other to let anything or anyone come between us. That said, I want you to know I do believe you. If you say you saw Buck with some other girl on graduation night, then I know you did. But couldn’t it have been someone who looks like Buck?
I asked him about it and he claims you couldn’t have seen him. He swears he wasn’t with any other girl. He implied that you’re jealous and trying to make trouble for him. I know it isn’t true, but I also know you don’t think I should marry him. All I can say is that it must’ve been someone who looked a lot like him. Please, let’s put this incident behind us. You’re my best friend and I love you.
Lesley
P.S. I thought your Valedictory speech was wonderful. You did a much better job of it than I would have. I know it was our dream to be co-valedictorians, but that wasn’t meant to be.
Mr. and Mrs. Michael Adamski
request the pleasure of your company
at the marriage of their daughter
Lesley Louise Adamski
to
David James Knowles
Saturday, June 11, 1966
at two o’clock in the afternoon
St. Catherine’s Catholic Church
404 Mitchell Avenue
Pine Ridge, Washington
Reception immediately following the ceremony
MR. AND MRS. BUCK KNOWLES
July 2, 1966
Dear Mom and Dad,
I’m busy writing thank-you notes for the wedding gifts and I realized I hadn’t sent one to you. Buck and I owe you both so much and are extremely grateful for everything you’ve done. The pot and pan set is wonderful, and far and above what Buck and I expected, especially after you paid for the wedding.
We’re very grateful for the used crib, too. Buck is going to refinish it once he’s back from basic training. I love you both so much.
Buck, Lesley &?
Jillian’s Diary
August 3, 1966
I don’t think I’ve ever been more disappointed in my mom and dad. I finally convinced Nick that my parents prize honesty above all else and that we should simply tell them we’re going steady. He came to the house just the way I asked and Dad answered the door and almost didn’t let him in because of his police record. (He was once charged with assault. It happened during a fight three years ago, and he was actually defending another boy. He got a suspended sentence.)
I stood with Nick and we held hands, but I could see that Nick was close to losing his cool. Mom wouldn’t even look at him. And Dad treated him like a criminal for having the audacity to ask his little girl out on a date. What neither of my parents seems to understand is that I’m not a child. I’m eighteen years old and perfectly capable of making my own decisions, and I reminded my father of this before he had time to tell me otherwise. Dad insisted that it didn’t matter what age I am. As long as I live under his roof, I have to do what he says and he doesn’t want me dating Nick Murphy. Then Nick and Dad started shouting at each other and Nick stormed out. I haven’t spoken to Mom or Dad since, but they can’t stop me from seeing Nick and they know it.
They think that just because I’m leaving for college in a few weeks, what Nick and I feel for each other will end. I haven’t told Nick yet, but I’ve decided I’m going to marry him. I knew it the first time he kissed me. No, even before that, when he wouldn’t kiss me because I was wearing Scott’s ring. He’s everything I want in a husband. Three girls in our graduating class are already married. Lesley, Judy and Pam. Soon it will be Nick and me, and then we’ll see what Dad has to say.
* * *
NAME: DAVID MICHAEL KNOWLES
BORN: SEPTEMBER 29, 1966
WEIGHT: 6 LBS, 7 OUNCES
LENGTH: 20 INCHES
PARENTS: BUCK AND LESLEY KNOWLES
* * *
JILLIAN LAWTON
BARNARD COLLEGE
PLIMPTON HALL
NEW YORK, NY 10025
October 10, 1966
Dearest Lesley,
I can’t believe it, you’re a mother! I opened the birth announcement and nearly screamed with excitement. I loved the picture, but really, Les, little David’s going to be mortified when he’s older and sees this photo of him only a few hours old with a blue ribbon in his hair. The poor thing. You didn’t say a word about labor. Was it horrible?
I hate school. Well, not exactly hate it, but I miss everyone so much. Mostly Nick and you, of course. I’m living in a big dorm and sharing a room with Janice Stewart, a girl from Florida. She seems nice, but she isn’t you. We talk some but we don’t seem to have a lot in common. She doesn’t have a boyfriend back home and doesn’t understand what it is to miss someone the way I miss Nick.
Speaking of Nick, he can’t afford phone calls and he doesn’t want me “wasting” all my allowance on phoning him, so we write nearly every day. Don’t be shocked if I tell you how much I love him. Please don’t be like everyone else. Just be happy for me the way I am for you and Buck.
You asked about my classes, and thus far everything’s going all right, I guess. The classes, especially history, are wonderful, with lots of discussion. If it wasn’t for those I think I’d go nuts. Dad suggested I fulfill all the course requirements in my first year and I followed his advice, but I did sign up for one psychology class, which I’m really enjoying. New York isn’t so bad, either, not the way I thought it would be. Last weekend, Janice and I went into Manhattan and took the ferry over to Ellis Island and climbed the Statue of Liberty.
Gotta scoot, but I promise I’ll write again soon. I hope David likes the baby blanket. It’s handmade (although not by me!).
Love,
Jillian
* * *
DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY
Detachment C, 500th Personnel Services Battalion
Unit 20121
APO AE 09107
ORDERS 65-10 22 December 1966
KNOWLES, DAVID JAMES, 552-02-3776, SFC 587TH SIG CO 9WFTXAA0 APO AE 09131
You will proceed on permanent change of station as shown. Information concerning port call will be provided separately.
You are hereby ordered to report for active duty in Vietnam.
Reporting Date: 26 December 1966
* * *
1967
JILLIAN LAWTON
BARNARD COLLEGE
PLIMPTON HALL
NEW YORK, NY 10025
January 16, 1967
Dear Nick,
I know we only said goodbye a few days ago, and already I find myself missing you so much I don’t know how I can possibly go back to school. I can’t bear to be this far away from you! The Christmas holidays were wonderful because of all the time we were able to spend together, despite my parents. You’d think that by now they’d realize you and I are serious.
I’ve always thought of my father as a man of wisdom, but these past three weeks have opened my eyes. Okay, he’s right, you do have a record, but that happened years ago when you were fourteen. Everyone makes mistakes and your record’s been clean ever since. I hate to say this, but my father is a fool.
I don’t want you to feel bad about the argument between me and Dad. It’s been building for a long time. I tried to talk to Mom and she listened, but I know she immediately told my father everything I said. I can’t trust her. The only people I can talk to anymore are you and Lesley. How different all our lives are from just a year ago! Last year at this time the most pressing problem was what theme to choose for the Junior/Senior Prom.
Lesley looked good, don’t you
think? I didn’t mind that Buck wasn’t there when we went to visit. Little Davey is a beautiful baby. Holding him made me long for a baby of my own. I’d need to think about who his daddy would be. Any volunteers?
Again, I want you to know that I truly love the medal of the Virgin Mary you gave me. I’ll treasure it forever. It’s especially dear to me because it once belonged to your mother. Every time I miss you, I reach for it and hold it tight and am instantly reassured of your love. It’s on a long chain and falls close to my heart. That’s where you are, even though we can’t be together.
You don’t need to say the words, Nick. I already know how you feel about me because that’s the way I feel about you. I love you, Nick, heart and soul. I don’t care what my parents say. I don’t care what anyone says. I’m crazy in love with you.
I want you to seriously consider what I mentioned on New Year’s Eve. I know Pine Ridge is your home and where your dad’s gas station is, but at least consider moving to New York. Just think of all the money we’d save on phone calls and stamps!! I can’t imagine what life will be like without you for the next three and a half years. I’m not sure I can continue with school if it means we can’t be together.
Promise me you’ll think about it, okay? And write me soon. I live for your letters.
Hugs and kisses,
Jillian
January 27, 1967
My dearest Jillian,
Me move to New York? I thought you were joking when you suggested it earlier, but I can see now that you were serious. Sweetheart, I can’t. Not because it isn’t tempting—I’m here to tell you everything about you tempts me and has since the first moment I saw you. More than anything, I want to be close to you, but Dad needs my help at the gas station. Jimmy’s getting to be a handful, too. He’s fourteen and the kid needs his big brother around to keep an eye on him. Besides, my dad’s working out a deal with one of his buddies who teaches at Bailey’s Trade School to get me my mechanic’s certification. I’ll be taking some night classes. Seeing that I’ve been tinkering with cars since I was twelve, it seems a waste of time for me to go to some school when I already know practically everything there is to know about engines.
But there’s more to my decision than sticking around Pine Ridge to help Jimmy and to work with my dad. Me going to New York wouldn’t be right for us.
We both know what would happen if I found a way for us to be together. First thing, your grades would fall. You’re smart, really smart. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe that the valedictorian of Holy Name Academy is dating a hellion like me. The temptation would be too much for us, and that wouldn’t be good for a couple of Catholic kids who have enough trouble keeping their hands off each other. Feeling the way I do about you, I should be canonized! You don’t make it any easier, either. If you think your parents disapprove of me now, you can bet your bottom dollar they’d really hate me if your grades dropped and you turned up pregnant. The last thing I want to do is alienate them completely.
Talking about your parents, I’m going to say something I should’ve said when you were home. Don’t concern yourself with this business between your old man and me. I don’t mean to be a chump, Jillian, but he is your father. Looking at it from his perspective, you have to admit he’s got a point. I have a juvenile police record. Your father wants what’s best for you. It’s my job to prove to him that what’s best for you is me. In other words this is between your dad and me. Not between your dad, you and me. Understand?
In time, I’m going to prove to your parents that I’m worthy of their beautiful daughter. My dad drilled into me a long time ago that anything of lasting value is worth waiting for. You, Jillian, are worth waiting ten lifetimes for.
Another thing, and I know you don’t want to talk about this, but we can’t ignore it any longer. I registered for the draft last year and who knows what’s going to happen with that. My dad’s worried about it and he’s got enough on his plate without me leaving because I want to be with my girl.
I love you heart and soul, too. I love you enough to do what’s right for us, even when it isn’t easy.
Study hard. You’re going to be a terrific lawyer one day.
All my love,
Nick
P.S. God bless the families of Virgil Grissom, Edward White and Roger Chaffee. What a horrible way to die. When I go, I pray it isn’t in a fire.
February 4, 1967
Dear Buck,
I haven’t heard from you since Christmas and I hope everything’s all right. Almost every night the television is filled with stories about what’s going on in Vietnam. Two of the boys in Susan’s class have already decided to enlist as soon as they graduate.
Little David is getting big and sassy, just like his daddy. He’ll be five months old soon and already has a tooth coming in. I’m sending along a few more pictures so you can see for yourself how much he’s changing. He’s a good baby.
I know you don’t approve of my part-time job at the library, but the extra money is a blessing. You don’t need to worry about strangers watching David, either. Mom babysits for me. I’ve been putting the money I earn aside so I can join you in Hawaii the way you mentioned in your last letter. Don’t be angry about me having a job. I like getting out of the house and you know how much I enjoy reading.
Dad wanted you to know there’ll be a job for you at the mill once you’re out of the Army. He’ll make sure of that. You can be on the same crew as before.
Write me soon, okay?
Your wife,
Lesley
JILLIAN LAWTON
BARNARD COLLEGE
PLIMPTON HALL
NEW YORK, NY 10025
March 9, 1967
Dear Lesley,
It was great to hear from you. I loved the photograph of Davey with his one tooth. And I loved the picture of you holding him on your lap. You look radiant, like a classic Madonna with child. I’m so glad everything’s working out for you, and I’m glad Buck’s okay.
The news is full of Vietnam. I’m worried about what’s happening with our country. I don’t understand why we’re even there. My parents support the war. They say it’s important to wipe out Communism before it overtakes the world. I don’t know what I believe. I don’t want Communism to spread, either, but I’m not sure it’s worth this horrible war.
I’ve been so homesick all week and your letter went a long way toward cheering me up. I’ve been in the doldrums ever since Christmas vacation and the disagreement between Nick and my parents. Nick told me to stay out of it but it’s hard not to defend him. Speaking of Nick, did I mention he’s in trade school? Plus, he works long hours at his dad’s service station. Because he’s so busy, he can only write three times a week. I miss him so much. It kills me the way Mom and Dad act toward him.
When I asked to come home for spring break, they said no, that I’d be home soon enough. Can you believe it? They seem to think that if they keep Nick and me apart I’ll forget about him. Since I can’t fly home, I’ve decided to attend a protest rally and peace march in the city. Janice, my roommate, asked me to go with her. We’re making a banner that says MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR. Pete Seeger’s going to be there and Martin Luther King, Jr. and Benjamin Spock, the famous pediatrician. The crowd should be huge. Everyone’s already talking about it and the rally isn’t even happening until next month. I can’t go home, so why shouldn’t I attend a peace march?
Did I tell you in my last letter how Mom and Dad tried to fix me up with a friend of theirs? He’s over thirty! He phoned and invited me to dinner. Montgomery Gordon—even his name is boring. I don’t need to meet him to know he’s a stuffed shirt. I’m not actually sure why he’s in town. He told me but I’ve forgotten. I guess that tells you what I thought of him. Needless to say, I declined the invitation.
On another subject, I think it’s great that you’re working at the library part-time. Remember how we used to stay up all night to read books out loud to each other? I miss those times.
&
nbsp; I’m lonely and miserable and I hate everything about New York. I never wanted to attend Barnard College. It was Dad’s idea. I’m nineteen and legally an adult, but my parents continue to control my life. Why can’t they accept that I’m my own person?
It isn’t only being stuck here during spring break, it’s Nick, too. I want to be with him, but the minute I mention his name my parents get all uptight. Dad constantly reminds me that Nick has a police record. Then I remind him that everyone deserves a second chance.
You’d think that after spending nineteen years raising me, they’d have some faith in my judgement. Oh well, crying on your shoulder doesn’t change anything, but it does help. You were always the one friend I could talk to, no matter what.
I’m so happy you’re finally going to see Hawaii. I know you and Buck will love it. You both need a little R & R. I knew you’d get to the islands sooner or later! Waikiki can be wildly romantic. How I envy you spending a whole week with the one you love.
Although it seems like forever, I’ll be home in June. We’ll spend lots of time together then, I promise.
Love,
Jillian
A Message from Southeast Asia
March 28, 1967
Dear Lesley,
Baby, I’m crazy to see you again. Everything’s been arranged. When you arrive in Hawaii, take the shuttle bus from the airport to the hotel. I’ll land the next morning, but the way things happen around here, it wouldn’t surprise me if I didn’t make it to the hotel until late afternoon. Be waiting for me! I’ve got six months of loving to make up for, so if you’re thinking about wasting time sunbathing on the beaches, you can forget that.