I learn a lesson

I LEARN A LESSON


Prologue: It was 1943 and I was down in Milwaukee with my two cousins waiting to obtain security clearance for our soon-to-be defense jobs. I was twenty and the world was my oyster. I feared nothing and no one, and was about to learn a lesson I never forgot.

I had taken the trolley down to the waterfront and was getting
my first look at Lake Michigan. And what an eye-opener that
was! I was used to the crystal clear, dazzlingly blue lakes of
Wisconsin and Minnesota. I stood on the pier, looking at the
dirty, gray, polluted water lapping at the pilings, and wondered
why no one had warned me. An oily, scummy film covered the
surface and here and there floated orange peels and bits of
decaying wood and objects too disgusting to describe. I was
deeply disappointed.
It was big, all right, and from far away I heard the mournful
moan of a foghorn, and above me, all alone, flew a seagull,
shrieking into the wind. The fog had settled in, making it hard
to see and I felt all alone out there on the swaying, decrepit old
pier. A cold wind was blowing in from the lake, and I shivered
in my thin summer outfit. I hadn’t even brought a sweater.
To add to my discomfort, there was the unmistakable odor of
decay emanating from the regions around the pier. It smelled of
garbage and things long dead. Mixed in was the distinct odor
of coal oil and industrial fumes. I was down in the industrial
area and the air was thick with pollution.
Looking out over the vast expanse of water, I could see the dim
outline of a freighter, lights muted, slipping away from the
shore, heading for who knows where. I thought of my boyfriend
who was in the navy and was perhaps out on the ocean at
that very moment. Like all young ladies I fancied myself in love
and yearned for my beloved. The fact that we had grown up
together and had fought like cats and dogs most of our lives
didn’t ease the pangs of separation. It was wartime and I was
supposed to be in love.

I realized that it was getting darker, and turned to go back to
solid ground, when I saw that the street lights had come on, and
that here and there were hurrying figures on their way to work.
They paid no attention to me, and one man, approaching the
edge of the water, paused to add his contribution to the murky
water below. Standing in the warm glow of the street lamp, and
ignoring all rules of modesty, he calmly completed his mission
and tucked everything back into place. Then he walked away,
buttoning his buttons as he went.
Was I shocked? Not really. I had grown up as a countrygirl
with brothers, cousins and uncles. I knew that necessity often
dictated unconventional solutions. Which brings us to my own
dilemma, which we shall pass lightly over. We need only note
that it was dark out there on the pier and I was all alone. In a
few moments I was picking my way back to solid ground.
I began to be afraid, and shivered as I carefully found my way
back down the center of the old, decaying walkway. I stepped
over and around bits of garbage, and prayed that there were no
loose boards or worse yet, no rats to scurry over my feet. With a
great sigh of relief, I stepped onto solid ground and crossed the
trolley tracks to a boarding platform and a wooden bench. I sat
down and rummaged around in my purse for trolley tokens.
At that moment I was paralyzed with fear. I began to shake
and almost cried out. I had forgotten the address of the
apartment! I had no idea how to get back or even what
direction to take. I was cold, tired, hungry, afraid and all alone.
I was alone and lost in Milwaukee! To be continued tomorrow