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AT THE COURTHOUSE
One day my mother and I went downtown to the courthouse. The judge wanted me to testify, possibly about the times my mother took me to the Biltmore Hotel where they had “Tea Dancing.” My mother loved to dance but didn’t want to go alone. I was twelve years old and big for my age, so there I was.
I watched my mom dance with different men and enjoy the attention and affection she so desperately needed. Some of them asked me to dance, too, but they were always polite and never acted out of line or held me close.
The courthouse was then in City Hall, and as we were walking up the stairs, my mother headed toward the open window, saying if my father got the divorce, she would jump
out of it. I remember crying so hard, then grabbing her and not wanting to let go.
In the courtroom I said I loved both of my parents equally, wanted to live with both of them and wished we could all live together. But my father had hired detectives, and he had proof that my mother wasn’t a “fit person” to take care of me. The divorce was granted, and my father got custody of me! My mother fainted, fell down and had to be revived with smelling salts and helped up. She didn’t jump out of the window, but she took the decision very hard. She shouted at the judge, “The mother always gets custody of the children! What kind of crooked courtroom is this?!” It was horrible.
Above
Birdene.
Below
From left: Frances Kass (a friend), Sidney and Janet, 1930s.
Left
Hugging my friends at John Burroughs Junior High School.