A Secret World War II Romance With James Walsh

The caption reads: Jimmy in Sardenia. March, 1944.


Clockwise:
1. Jimmy (Walsh) in North Africa-1943.
2. Same note as described below.
3. Jimmy in Sardinia. March, 1944.
4. Jimmy in Italy. March, 1944.

Caption reads: Jimmy and brother in Italy. (Mar

I promised I'd tell you about my mom's secret romance, so here it is...

First a little background.

Mom married at age 24. She and Daddy were students at the University of North Carolina in the Graduate School of Public Health. He took one look at her sparkling green eyes and curly blonde hair and he was a goner. They soon fell in love, married, and literally did live happily ever after.

Just got the ring! Rose Gardens at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill-

1948 -age 23

Ever after.

As we settle back into normal life after the national day of thanks, I thank all the deities above for parents were were truly, madly, deeply, in love. Real, real love. Is this as rare as it seems? The internet seems full of people lamenting a tumultous childhood with angry parents or parent figures. Are there any other people who were raised by two people who never stopped loving each other, not even for a minute? Parents who would neck like teenagers at times?

During her college days, all the boys were over fighting in World War II. Mom certainly had her suitors. She has a scrapbook filled with dried corsages and notations like "We caught Kay Kyser's band tonight! What fun! I had to look up Kay Kyser, but I guess he was who you called when you couldn't get Tommy Dorsey or Frank Sinatra or Benny Goodman to play at your "hop".

She had "JUST A FRIEND" named Clarence Smith who became a pharmacist in her hometown of Mooresville, North Carolina. They were ONLY friends, she made that CLEAR. mmmhmmm. Methinks thou dost protest too much, lady.

I do know that she married a rolling stone. Yes, Papa was a rolling stone. But he always rolled with her. She probably would have been content to spend to spend the rest of her days a few miles from the ancestral mansion but she loved Daddy enough to follow him all over the Southeast during their marriage. People, that was LOVE. For you see, Mom was an agoraphobic. Big time.

So we girls grew to adulthood knowing that one day Mr. Right would see our sparkling eyes and curly blonde hair and fall hopelessly in love with us, too. We neglected to factor into this equation the fact that we weren't mom.

And *I* neglected to factor in that I had straight brown hair with irritating cowlicks and wore hideous glasses. The only thing that "sparkled" was the sunlight reflecting off of them.

Oh well!

So we were cleaning out some of her personal stuff and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a boatload of references to guy she never ever mentioned. John James Walsh. (a/k/a Jimmy)

The above caption reads: Lt. James Walsh. Nice guy! WWII (Thanks for the heads up, mom. I might have thought it was the civil war without your notation). Met at church while attending WCUNC--(that's Women's College of the University of North Carolina in Greensboro) Wrote letter for long time. Sent candy and flowers. Then no letter. Killed?

The caption reads: Lt. James Walsh. North Africa. Sardinia? Met at Methodist Church. WCUNC-1940's? (She and Daddy did not meet until 1947 while they attended graduate school together). Send me lots of candy-and locket etc...

Just this weekend we were going through some more drawers and found a small cigarette lighter he had sent her. We went into hysterics. Did she go one toke over the line, Sweet Jesus? Not THAT stuff, but cigarettes. To hear her talk, wanting a cigarette led to being a crack whore and eventually you would be found dead in a sleazy hotel room, naked except for a tube top.

Daddy smoked for many years, but quit when I was born supposedly because I cried when the smoke hit my lungs. (translatation: Mom nagged him almost literally to death, I bet.) He probably decided that he had to either 1. Quit smoking. 2. Divorce mom. 3. Arrange a tragic "accident." So faced with the lesser of three evils he quit. He'd take a puff while on a out of town business trip and even drink firewater once in awhile. I know because I often went along on the trips to keep him company and see the world. Mom hated travel, as I've said.

Did Miss Pure and Virginal Lips who never did anything "wrong" or "unladylike" take a few puffs of the forbidden fruit?

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ANYWAY. Of course I could not rest until I had put this mystery together. But a search of the internet was less than fruitful. I found one reference to a John James Walsh who was taken prisoner in Italy and this psychic I talked to said that she felt he had died from dysentery. Of course, I'm skeptical of anything I can't prove, but I KNOW he would have written her when he got back after the war, even if it was to break it off.

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Dysentery. The poor guy. Did he lie in bed or on a pallet, knowing that his beautiful young life was ending clutching a picture of mom?

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Warning: Corny cliches ahead.

You've been warned!

No turning back now!

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This brought home the fact that hundreds of thousands of "our boys" and boys all around the world were killed in a senseless conflict. Today there are few men and zillions of women left on the planet who belonged to the greatest generation. Of course heart attacks further decimated the population of elderly gentlemen, but it's sad to think that so many women have to live throught their "golden years" alone because of a war started so many years ago by a madman vegetarian non smoker named Adolph Hitler.

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Funny how I can read a book about WWII or watch a History Channel documentary and not feel a thing when the announcer mentions the number of gallant young men who died for the country, yet this touching romance has me bumfuzzled.

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I fantasize about Jimmy returning from the war, marrying her, and producing kids who were terribly good looking. Then I fantasize that he kept up with her, learned of her widowhood, and having conveniently lost his wife early, renewed their relationship and made her last sentinent years happy ones.

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She never mentioned him, not ever, not once. This leads me to think this was a serious relationship (for a wartime romance) and she didn't want to be teased unmercifully about it. Or perhaps Jimmy was a fighter pilot and Daddy was rejected because he didn't have 20/20 vision and she didn't want to give our evil little brains ideas to rag him about.

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I teased her constantly about being "picked" to be my mother. "The doctor who arranged the adoption thought we were a good couple and would be good parents." Well, I just wonder why he didn't find a RICH good couple."

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'Tis a sad tale indeed. I hope Jimmy and Daddy will be at the Pearly Gates when she arrives.

Further Proof That Although This Child Was Born In China, She Is My Clone

So...hey y'all. How ya doin'?

The fall of 2008 continues to rocket towards a speedy conclusion. Halloween has come and gone, and only MY child would decide to dress up like the Unibomber. This was totally her idea.

Life comes at you fast. I'm doing a lot to work on The Condition That Must Not Be Named (according to my energy healer). I am trying 5 different things--regular medicine, guaifinesin, a pain doctor's cure claim, bio cranial therapy, and an energy healer. I must say that I am having some interesting experiences with the energy healer. I woke up one night and discovered the meaning of life and the reason for the whole Universe, but it was no big deal. I've been having a lot of "housecleaning" dreams--getting rid of a lot of emotional baggage from the past.

I'm still tired and still battling The Stomach Virus That Is Circulating Among Everybody. I'm about ready to order a full-body condom. I spent all day yesterday in bed. But then last week, I felt great and was running around just like I used to. Maybe I really will shake the monkey off of my back.

Mom is deteriorating mentally at a rapid pace. I've cried more this year than every year of my life put together. I guess it's cathartic or something. We're cleaning out her house and found evidence of a Secret War Romance that I'll tell you about in the next post. It was sad, and romantic.

At this point she's at the mental level of a one year old. She won't be here next year, and I'm glad. I can't wait for her to join Daddy in heaven. She seems to be content, however, which is a huge step in the right direction. All I want is for her to quietly drift off. She's suffered a long time with physical and mental pain, and she deserves some peace.

I'm glad that we have a new President-Elect. Things are going to look up in 2009, I just know it!!! I'm going to be healthier, and President Obama is going to do a great job. Don't expect miracles right off the bat, though. The poor man has a lot of mopping up to do. I hope Ann Coulter cries herself to sleep every night!!

More later--good to be back!!!

OBAMA PULLS OFF A MIRACLE

Original lyrics by Barry Manilow
updated by me
Dedicated to President-Elect Obama
and my wonderful readers.

You wouldn't believe we are,
The cities and towns near and far,
from Boston to Denver
and every town in between.

The people they all look the same,
only the names have been changed.
But now that results are in
I'll tell you what I believe:

It's a Miracle!!!!!
a true blue spectacle, a miracle come true.
It's been a long eight years baby,
And we were goin' crazy
till the miracle came through.

Now you've won
America looks brighter and
they'll be dancin' in the streets

For the miracle! a true blue spectacle,
the miracle is you!

I never knew you looked so good.
Oh I never knew anyone could.
We must have been crazy
to ever have gone so red.

I almost forgot what it's like,
trusting our pres to do right.
But now that we've done it
you'll know that most of us say,

It's a miracle==a true blue spectacle,
a miracle come true.

We've got a winner now,
and I was going crazy--
till the miracle came through.

Now you've won and I'm feeling so good,
and baby I am dancing in the streets

For the miracle--a true blue spectacle,
the miracle is YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

While we are all gnawing on our fingernails...

It's time to dance with the HSM3 gang!!!

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AND TOMORROW IT WILL BE OVER

Dr. Martin Luther King died just before I finished 4th grade. I cried and cried. I kneeled and said a prayer. I said, "Dr. King, I'm really sorry you had to leave your little kids like me and if a qualified AA ever runs for president I promise to vote for him to honor you."

It's time to make good on the promise I made so long ago.