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janetlinTitle: The Girl in the Red Hat
Rating: G
Genre: Nonfiction
Summary: The true story of how two young people met and fell in love in the fall of 1937.
~*~
Autumn of 1937 brought a crisp wind from Lake Monona to the roofs of downtown Madison, Wisconsin. The cold snap had come a week earlier, and the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves were only just starting to fade to winter brown. The radio in the ice cream parlor cranked out Chick Webb’s Orchestra and the unparalleled voice of Ella Fitzgerald. Some kids in the corner were doing the Lindy Hop, which reminded Frank Langston why he had invited his best friend out today.
“Man, come to the dance this Saturday,” he said as they walked past the open doorway.
“Nah, you know that’s not my thing.” Alvin Nilsson buried his hands in the pockets of his long-legged trousers and shrugged, a rolling of bony shoulders at the level of Frank’s forehead.
“Al, come on,” Frank pressed, “you need to get out and meet some girls before Uncle Sam sends you off somewhere.”
Al laughed, showing a shy smile. “Where d’you think they’re gonna send me? We aren’t at war.”
“There’s Spain,” Frank offered. The Spanish Civil War was all anybody on the news seemed to talk about lately.
Al nodded and said noncommittally, “Yeah, Spain.”
“Damn Commies,” Frank muttered. Al didn’t like to talk about politics, but Frank knew his friend agreed with him.
“It’s their own problem,” Al said simply, “we aren’t involved.”
“Not officially,” Frank granted, “but you know we have boys over there, Al. Doesn’t that fry you? That Americans are dying on foreign soil but they won’t be honored properly here at home?”
“I suppose so,” Al shrugged again. Frank recognized this as a sign for him to drop the subject, and they walked in silence until the dark mood dissipated.
“If I could set you up with a date,” Frank began anew, “would you come to the dance?”
Al raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna give up on this, are you?”
Frank grinned, “No, sir.”
Al shook his head and looked across the street, where something caught his eye. “Would ya look at that?” he said, tugging on Frank’s sleeve.
Frank looked where he pointed and saw a girl with a jaunty red hat outside the dressmaker’s shop. The girl looked about their age, maybe early twenties, and had light brown hair neatly swept up. She had a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and seemed to be smiling at some private joke. Her dress was a dark, charcoal gray with red piping that matched the hat and the purse she tucked under her arm. She pulled on perfectly white gloves as she walked away from the storefront. There was a pleasant sway in her gait; not too showy, but just enough to let both boys know without looking that she was wearing high heels.
“Now there’s a classy gal,” Frank murmured, and they both watched her until she disappeared around the corner and headed down Wisconsin Avenue.
When she was gone, it was like waking up from a dream. Frank looked at Al and could tell he was just as affected. Al pointed to the corner. “If you could set me up with a girl like that,” he said once he could speak again, “I’d go to the dance.”
Frank slapped him on the back. “We’ll think of something.”
~*~Saturday night, Al stood outside the Association Hall on Langdon Street, waiting for Frank. Don’t know how he talked me into this, he thought, sweeping his hands across the pleated front of his wool trousers. He’d been standing this whole time, so they couldn’t be wrinkled, but Al needed something to do. He turned to the door and bent down to check his reflection in the glass. His sandy-blonde hair was parted straight and over his right eyebrow, but he pulled the comb from his pocket and straightened it again anyway. Just plain ol’ me, no matter what. Blonde hair, blue eyes, what else would you expect from a Swede? True, he was taller than most, and Frank kept telling him that girls liked tall guys, but he was skinnier than most, too, like God had taken a guy of about 5’8” by the head and feet and just stretched him an extra seven inches.
Now, Frank… Frank was the good-looking kind of guy girls liked. He had dark hair and brown eyes Al’s sister Mildred had once described as “dreamy.” Frank had lots of girlfriends, and he went through them fast. Al hadn’t ever really had a steady gal; the only girls who hung around him and Frank weren’t his type of girls, they were Frank’s. They were giggly or they smoked or they were, well, promiscuous. Al had always wanted to settle down with a good girl, but lately had started despairing of ever finding one.
A car horn sounded behind him and he turned around, sticking his comb back into his pocket. The car pulled to a stop, and Frank climbed out of the driver’s side. “Hey, Al,” he called, and Al waved. “Come help me with the girls.” Frank walked to the passenger-side door and opened it as Al approached.
“Hi, Al,” Louise said as Frank helped her out. Her knee-length skirt made Al uncomfortable, though by now he should have been used to it. Louise always wore short skirts. She was pretty and blonde, and despite her risqué taste in clothes, Al liked her more than most of the girls Frank went out with. At least she didn’t smoke.
“Hi, Louise,” Al said.
“We brought a surprise for you,” she said as she stepped away from the car. Al leaned down and offered his hand to whoever was in the back seat.
Slender fingers with neatly-trimmed nails came to rest in his palm, and stockinged legs in little black pumps swung out. A head full of golden-brown curls came next and, when the girl straightened, Al found himself looking down into the heart-shaped face of the girl with the red hat. Her eyes were ice-blue like the rivers up north in the winter, and the smile they had noticed from across the street revealed a set of dimples.
“This is Kathryn Huss,” Louise told Al.
“Kay, please,” the girl corrected, in a sweet alto voice.
“Al Nilsson,” Al said, hardly believing this was real. Frank had managed to find the one girl in the whole city he had wanted to come to the dance with?
“Kay and I both work for Mrs. Martin,” Louise explained. “She just got her certificate in fashion design from Mount Mary College over in Milwaukee and now she’s working in the field.”
That would explain the nice dresses, Al thought. Today Kay was in a navy blue dress with zig-zag trim that fit snug around her waist and flowed smoothly over her hips and down to just below her knees. “You look very nice,” he told her, relieved that his date, at least, was dressed appropriately.
“Thank you,” Kay said.
Frank reached past them to close the car door. “Come on, you two,” he said, throwing an arm around Louise and walking to the doors. Al looked down at Kay and offered her his arm. Kay slipped her small hand into the bend of his elbow, and they followed. Her shoes made a pleasant clicking sound on the pavement as they walked, and Al purposely shortened his stride to match hers. Kay was tall for a girl; the top of her head reached Al’s shoulder, as Frank’s did, though she was in heels. Al looked forward to dancing with her – most girls he danced with were so much shorter than he that it always felt like he was dancing with his little sister.
The hall was already well-filled when they stepped inside, the big band in the corner in full swing and Frank’s gabardine coat thrown carelessly across three chairs along the wall. He and Louise were already out on the floor doing sugarfoots.
“Shall we?” Al asked Kay, and she nodded. Al dropped his own coat on top of Frank’s and loosened his tie as they walked onto the floor.
“We don’t have to do anything fancy,” Kay said, eyeing Frank, who was swinging Louise around his waist, “I’m not very good.”
Al gave her his trademark lopsided grin. “Neither am I,” he replied, and took her hands.
Kay really wasn’t that bad at all. She followed every lead gracefully and kept up with even the faster tempos. It was all Al could do to keep dancing; what he really wanted was to sit down and talk to this girl. He decided that if he ever had another first date, it would not be to a dance hall. How were you supposed to get to know someone if the music was too loud and you were too out of breath to talk? Finally, between songs, Kay asked if he would fetch her some water. Al happily agreed.
When he came back, she was sitting with their coats, though her feet were still tapping the beat. Frank and Louise were nowhere to be seen. “Here you go,” Al said, handing her a cup.
“Thank you,” she said. Though she must have been thirsty, she sipped her water slowly. Pleasantly surprised at her good manners, Al followed suit, and for several minutes they just watched the dancers in silence.
“So, you’re a fashion designer,” Al finally said, once their cups were empty.
“I’m trying to be,” she answered. “I have something like an internship with Mrs. Martin.”
“Did you design this dress?” Al asked. “I meant what I said before, about you looking nice.”
“Well, thank you again,” Kay replied, “but, no, this isn’t my design. I found it in the pattern books from New York. What about you?”
“Oh,” Al said, “I didn’t design my outfit, either.” Kay’s laugh was warm and deep, not the high-pitched giggle most girls used around boys. Al decided he could definitely get used to hearing that laugh.
“No, I mean, what do you do?” Kay asked.
“I’m in the Navy,” Al answered. “Just waiting to see where they’ll send me, if anywhere.”
“Well, that’s exciting,” Kay said, sounding genuinely interested. “Not the waiting, of course, but being in the Navy. I bet you’ll get to see all kinds of interesting places.” She sighed, “I’d love to travel.”
“Don’t you get to?” Al asked.
“Milwaukee is as far away from home as I’ve ever been,” Kay replied.
“And where is home, then?” Al hoped he wasn’t being too nosy or asking dumb questions. Frank was much better at talking to girls than he was. He’d never ask a girl something as boring as “where is home?” Al mentally kicked himself for not being more charming.
“North Dakota,” Kay said, and didn’t seem to mind that he had asked, “Minot.”
“Well, then,” Al replied, “The fall colors are nothing new to you, but if you’d like to go for a drive sometime, I’d take you up to Merrill. It’s almost rural and the trees are beautiful right now.” Taking her up to Merrill? Why not drop in on mom and dad while we’re up there and introduce her? You idiot.
“I’d like that,” Kay said, and Al thought she might be blushing. “I love car rides.”
“Me, too,” Al said, and they lapsed into awkward silence again. Say something, you knucklehead! “Do you come dancing often?” he eventually asked.
Kay shook her head, “No, my parents don’t really approve of swing music.” Al could understand that; his parents weren’t wild about swing, either. His mother said the Lindy Hop was just something black kids in New York made up, and good white boys and girls shouldn’t be doing it. Well, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“So how’d you learn to dance, then?” Al asked.
“Well…” Kay said, “the girls at school taught me.” Now Al was sure she was blushing. Whether it was about dancing with other girls or disobeying her father, Al wasn’t about to ask.
“Well, you looked fine out there to me,” he assured her. “I learned from Frank dragging me to these things all the time.”
“He and Louise did look like they were having fun,” Kay said.
“Yeah, Frank’s a real showboat,” Al agreed.
“Speaking of whom, have you seen them?” Kay scanned the crowd. “It’s getting late.”
“If they don’t come back soon, I’ll drive you home myself,” Al offered.
“Thank you,” Kay said, “that’s very gentlemanly.” Well, if his being a gentleman impressed Kay as much as her being a lady impressed Al, he decided that was a very good thing.
“So what do you think,” Al slapped his knees and stood up, “one more dance?”
“I’d like that,” Kay said, and set her cup aside.
They danced three more dances before Kay decided they really should stop. The coats were untouched; Frank’s was still under Al’s on the chairs. “D’you think they might already be outside?” Kay asked.
“Maybe,” Al said, though it was unlikely Frank would forget his coat if he were outside at night. He probably had other things on his mind. Louise looked like she could be a handful.
“Well, let’s take his coat, too,” Kay advised, handing Al his, “and you can give it to him the next time you see him.”
“Yeah,” Al agreed, “that sounds fine.”
Kay slipped Frank’s coat over her shoulders as they walked to Al’s car. The drive to Mrs. Martin’s shop was short and passed in silence. “I live upstairs,” Kay said when they were parked. “Louise and I both do.”
Al nodded. He knew it was inappropriate for a young woman to live alone. “Well, may I walk you to the door?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Kay replied with a smile.
Al walked around the car and opened her door, and she walked to the storefront. She reached into a pocket in her skirt Al hadn’t even noticed was there and pulled out a key. Kay noticed his gaping and laughed. “I put pockets in everything,” she explained, and she turned the key in the lock. “I enjoyed myself tonight.” She turned back to him and slipped off Frank’s coat. She leaned in and kissed Al’s cheek as she handed it to him. “And I would like to go on that drive with you some day.”
“All--all right,” Al managed. “Well, I guess I know where to find you,” he said, trying to regain his composure.
Kay smiled again. “I’ll see you soon, then,” she said, and slipped through the door.
Al walked back to the car in a daze. Yeah, she’d see him soon. Al resolved to visit her in the shop every day. As he drove home, he laughed to think how crazy it is that happening to look up and see a red hat across the street could change everything.
~*~
Al and Kay married in 1939. He served his country in the Pacific during World War II and returned home. He succumbed to Alzheimer’s in the late 1990’s and, though he forgot his own son and grandchildren, he looked at Kay and still saw the girl in the red hat. He passed away in 2001, and Kay lived three more years, to see their great-granddaughter, Morgan, born. She was buried next to the love of her life in July of 2004.
