My
mother hated the name Martha Lee. And she lived her life avoiding it whenever
she could. I remember my grandmother sometimes calling her M.L. She felt that
was much better than the grating “Maaatha Lee” they would address her with in
their thick Boston accents. As an adult she would be known as Lee
 |
| M.L. held by her mother, Jeanette 1928 |
Her
new friends at her new high school, Kendall Hall boarding school in New
Hampshire, began calling her Willey. This, reportedly after an impressive
demonstration by my mother of belching out the entire alphabet at the lunch
table one day.
A demur Martha, she was not. This girl needed
a cute name.
Willey,
short for her last name, Willett, had a gregarious personality and many friends
at this school. This was a pattern that would repeat herself for my mom’s
entire life. Everyone always loved when she was at a party. But as for this
school, it was a place her parents had sent her to “straighten up” after her
and her best friend, Phyllis, repeatedly skipped school and hung around various
places in Swampscott, Massachusetts. Mom would come home at the end of the
school day and my grandparents had no idea she wasn’t showing up for class.
Occasionally the truant officer would stop by the house. He was a friend of my
grandfather.
“Harold,
you’ve got to get that girl to go to class.” The officer would tell him. My
grandfather would shake his hand and tell him he would get control of it all.
Sometimes
Mom and Phyllis would hop the train to the Boston Garden to watch a hockey
game. Neither had an interest in hockey, by the way. But this was 1942 and
young men on shore leave from navy vessels passing through the Boston Harbor would
take in an afternoon game at the Garden. Despite my grandmother telling her
daughter to never, ever, take a cigarette from a stranger because it could have
something “funny” in it, Mom and Phyllis were double trouble and liked flirting
with the young men. And yes, smoking their forbidden cigarettes.
The
fun came to an end one day when they decided to skip school and hang out by the
local grocery market in the center of Swampscott.
According
to Mom’s version of the story, Phyllis suddenly jumps to her feet.
“M.L.!
It's your mother, coming this way!” Phyllis exclaims. They both spot my grandmother, coming up the
street on foot, to go to the market.
Supposedly,
my grandmother turned at all the commotion the frantic girls were making and
looked over just in time to see her daughter and best friend diving into the
nearby shrubs…their skirts flying.
Mom
said my grandmother walked over alongside the shrubs and sighed,
“M.L.
you come out of there right this instance!”
Mom
says she and Phyllis popped up, knowing they were really in for it now. My
grandmother had had enough.
 |
| Martha Lee about age 12, 1940 |
My
mother adored her father. The feeling was mutual. While my mother’s older
sister, Jean, was dainty, scholarly, demur and classically pretty, Mom was more
along the lines of an early version of Carol Burnett. She was skinny and gawky
with a wide, gummy smile. And she was not in the least bit interested in
school. My grandfather secretly loved that about her because he had been a horrible
student himself. He was more interested in chasing girls and having fun. Some
of the stories in his own past mirrored what his favorite daughter was doing. What
goes around, comes around was rearing its head to Harold Willett if there ever
was a time. It was all innocent fun, he
probably thought, thinking back on his own youth. He was now a successful
insurance salesman. He straightened up just fine.
But
my grandmother was not having any of this. SOMETHING had to be done about
these girls traipsing around Boston doing unladylike things.
The
fathers called a meeting. They had gotten together to talk over the situation. Both
sets of parents and the girls sat in the living room of my grandparent’s house
on Lewis Road in Swampscott.
“Girls,
we have made a decision. Your education is important and you can't keep dodging
school. You come from good families. We are sending you both away to an all-girls
boarding school.” My grandfather reportedly announced.
 |
| Martha Lee High 1946 graduation |
Mom
and Phyllis were absolutely delighted. They would have adventures in a far-away
place! How fun would that be?
The
parents were puzzled by the smiles on the girl’s faces. This was a punishment.
What are they so happy about?
My
grandfather was the first to figure it out.
“Young
ladies,” my Grandad lectured to them, “You do understand you are not going off
to school TOGETHER, don't you? “
Apparently
my mother’s face dropped. Phyllis looked confused.
Grandad
continued, “We can't even trust you two in the same state. M.L, you will be
going to New Hampshire.” Phyllis’ Dad was sending her to a school in Vermont.
Mom
remembers still not quite getting the whole picture of it. So she asked a
question.
“But
Daddy, what is there to do in New
Hampshire?” She remembers asking.
“Exactly!”
all four parents answered in unison.
Mom
loves telling that story.
