My grandfather also threw away all letters I got from my boy and girlfriends in NYC when I went to stay with him in SC. I found out later and was also truly pissed because he always said I got nothing in the mail.
His name was Ira Stevens. He was tall and shy, towering over me, and it was the 50’s. I lived on Montgomery Street and then on East 18th in Flatbush – a Brooklynite. His only problem was that he had a stutter, but I never viewed that as a problem. Perhaps my mother did, and he went off to the Korean war – and I waited for letters from him, which never arrived. Then my mother told me years later that he had written, but she’d destroyed the letter. I think it was the most hurtful thing she ever did to me, if not to him.
You wanna talk “naive”? Here’s a humdinger of a story for you. When I was about 16, my 20-year-old boyfriend decided to dump me one night because I was “too young” (which of course meant I wasn’t ready to sleep with him so what was the point, right?) He lived on one side of a VERY busy street near where we were standing, I lived on the other. When I say busy, I mean Houston Street right off of FDR Drive; six lanes of traffic, three going onto the highway, three going off, and moving at a pretty good clip. Well, I did NOT take this breakup lightly and figured I’d teach HIM a lesson. I didn’t look for traffic going onto the highway as I began crossing the street to go home. I didn’t look for traffic coming off of the highway when I stepped off the median. My plan was, of course, to have him see me get struck by a car and feel so badly about it that he would take me back (please remember I was a very young 16 — NOT “16” like the kids are now, and no, it never occurred to me that it would hurt or that I might die). Well — I got to the other side safely (obviously God really DOES take care of FOOLS and babies, like they say) and turned to see if he was watching. He was long gone. He’d apparently turned to go the minute I walked away from him, so he’d have missed the whole thing — the crash…the pain…the drama of it all! The nerve of that guy! Geez, I wouldn’t be sixteen again if you paid me — I was SO melodramatic! – webdiva
I was most afraid of young women my age when I was in my teens..Don’t know exactly why..perhaps it was because I was raised by my Grandmother and her Sister..could be. Anyone the first lady I felt comfortable is someone I will never forget…after many dates we split..after WWII we met, had a drink..she told me of her wedding plans..after I met her a few times on the subway I said things like: ‘What lovely legs!’..one day she said: ‘Why weren’t you like this years ago…and so it goes..fortunately I married a lady who is by and large the same or better..love her after 47 years of marriage..end of my tale John