[Culturechat] My trip to "The Greatest Generation"

[tillhouse]

Thank you, Vance.  Those were my days, my people and my one who did not come
home.  Glad those are meeting and dancing on  into tomorrow.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Vance Roy" <gigli.saw@virtualnewport.com>
To: "culturechat" <culturechat@untours.com>; "Brickachs" <ROCEDGE@IBM.Net>
Sent: Friday, June 08, 2001 6:14 AM
Subject: [Culturechat] My trip to "The Greatest Generation"


> I was born in 1939, so I was at the very tail end of what is known as
> the greatest generation. I can take no credit for these people's
> actions, but yesterday, I stepped back in time and sat among them as a
> group. Maybe I assume too much, but anyone who hasn't read the books by
> Tom Brokaw on this subject and by this title (the first one) ought to
> look them over. I am old enough to remember that Hitler, Tojo, and
> Mussolini were the bad guys and Churchill and Roosevelt were our heroes.
> Also, I remember the sudden and cruel sadness in the neighborhood when
> parents found that a son "wasn't coming home", as my mother put it. Dear
> old Mrs. Levy didn't know what else to do when her son's death was noted
> in the telegram but to bring us kids over and make us cookies. Then the
> star went up in the window.
>
> That aside, I went to Wakefield, RI to an inn called Larchwood, and
> found myself in a wonderful time warp. I should say that this was my
> second visit to the Larchwood, so I can confirm that the first
> experience wasn't a fluke. In a section of this beautiful old inn is a
> bar where on Thursdays at 4 PM and every other Saturday night, a special
> event occurs. The bar, of course, contains a semicircular bar, as well
> as numerous tables with chairs, a small dance floor, and an even smaller
> bandstand against one wall. It is one of those places where you just
> know that Edward G. Robinson, Bogart, or someone of that crowd is going
> to step in with a babe on his arm at any minute. The clientele fits
> right in with these people. Shortly before 4 PM, the room fills with
> couples and singles that resemble most Idyllers. Old enough to have been
> "participants" in the time of WW II. From two visits, I can tell that
> they are the same people there every Thursday. I guess 80% or better are
> regulars. The regulars know each other, share the same history, and I am
> sure that they also know who is gone now and whose partner remains
> alone. The faces are etched with time and God knows how many war stories
> in the real sense. There is a courtliness and courtesy among these
> Martini and Manhattan drinkers. One waitress covers the whole room and a
> bartender takes care of the bar patrons.
>
> The dress ranges from "church type" clothes to very casual. A lot of
> them know the band, and the band knows the ones who are new. The music
> starts, and the afternoon begins. The music? It is provided by The Jazz
> Strollers. A group who are all over Medicare age by more than a few
> years, including a 98 year old trombonist who still looks like it is fun
> when he has the solo. What does it sound like? Testimony from me says
> that it is just outstanding. These guys belt out the greatest "old
> Phart" sounds that I have heard live in a long time. Several of them
> sing the vocals with barely a quiver in the voice. They all are dressed
> in the uniform of kaki pants and light blue polo shirts. Each one
> carries a libation with him to the stand, there are intros, and the fun
> begins for the next three hours.
>
> Can you imagine people watching in a museum of historical WW II? I
> almost felt like an intruder in a place where these folks gather to have
> memories. The dancing is classic ballroom with some of the partners
> looking like they are joined at the knees. One can sit there and wonder
> who was the admiral?, the GI who lay in the foxhole?, the bomber pilot?,
> etc. With the singles, who is the widow or widower? What stories are
> behind these faces? They obviously are happy to still be here with
> friends. Do they, as I do, worry about what will happen when these band
> members succumb to time? There won't be any more Jazz Strollers when
> they are gone. I feel like I am glad to have an opportunity to see and
> hear this while it still goes on. It is fun to see the "stags" patrol.
> One guy dances with half a dozen different ladies. He sits on one side
> of the bar, and by a signal to one across, she knows he has extended an
> invitation to twirl.
>
> On this day, there are two irregulars. One with a bass sax and one with
> a trumpet. Each sits in for a turn or two. There is a break when one of
> the members announces that they have recently made a tape (no CDs in
> this generation) that the bartender will sell you for seven dollars. The
> joint is packed. There are ash trays on the tables. You can just bet
> that the regulars all meet there each week, and if someone isn't there
> who should be, they find out why. They are likely just as an old friend
> of mine (not with us except in thought today) who have been there since
> WW II when the Germans weren't very far off the coast and the Army guys
> and gals had fun there.
>
> So as not to deify this generation, we have to remember people like
> Dillinger, Hauptman, Machine Gun Kelly, and Scarface. There were bums
> and bad guys, but are there any heroes today? Maybe so. I feel like I
> have been lucky to get this living peek at those of yesterday.
> --
> Vance C. Roy
> gigli.saw@dplanet.ch
>
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