This is a story that took 46 years to tell.

The year was 1976 and our family lived in Carmel, Indiana. This was a tough time in my mom’s life, what with living in the Midwest (so very far from New England) since 1973, two of her four children off to college (I was to follow that fall), and the confusion of the burgeoning women’s movement. One bright light was the writers’ conferences she attended and the friendships she cultivated in the Hoosier state.

Mom was so tickled she successfully played “matchmaker” for her writer friends Dorothy Rathbun and Will Kennedy. Mom attended their wedding and they stayed in touch for many years. Toward the end of Mom’s life, I asked her if there were any friends she’d like me to try to “find” for her, since Parkinson’s had taken away her ability to write her customary chatty letters and cards.

Mom’s first request was, “See if you can find Dorothy.”

Mom knew Will was gone, and had a feeling Dorothy was, too – but it was worth a try.

Well, thanks to Facebook, we quickly found Dorothy. She’d assumed Mom had passed, so it was a nice surprise for them both. Now living in Texas, Dorothy just happened to be traveling nearby and we were able to arrange a joyous reunion.

Mom’s been gone nearly three years, but Dorothy and I stay in touch. She recently let me know there was a cassette tape coming to me in the mail.

Oh, boy! I dragged out my old boom box and gingerly pressed “play.” There was Mom’s voice, mid-sentence. Little by little, I carefully rewound the tape, so that I could present it to John, who is kind enough to digitize this sort of treasure for me.

It was impossible to resist hearing a little bit more, so I pressed “play” at the start. Mom begins by greeting Will and apologizing for the delay in making this tape for him. It seems her tape recorder was not working up to snuff, so she’d asked a few friends if she could borrow theirs.

“But all the others were on the blink, too,” my mom said with a chuckle. “And they were all the same brand – General Electric!”

The chuckle was no doubt because Dad‘s career was with GE. Just about every appliance in our house was General Electric. But just this once, GE let us down.

Wait! Hold on a sec – my mother’s voice had suddenly stopped.

I looked at the cassette window and saw a snarl of escaped magnetic tape. After hitting the “stop” button with more force than was actually required, I glanced down to check the brand of my player:

Determined not to panic, I removed the tape (with the help of scissors, unfortunately) and took to Google to find a repair company for a half-century-old, partly mangled cassette tape. There are loads of repair-it-yourself articles and videos available, but I just didn’t want to chance it.

That was a few weeks ago. I’m happy to report the company I found, Media Mojo, was able to fix the tape and digitize the recording.

Just downloaded the two files …

… so we’ll let Mom continue the story:

Here’s the poem Mom read:

Now, Wind

Now, Wind,
if you don’t mind,
I’ve slept all night on rollers
and it took us twenty minutes
just to set the curls.
It’s seven blocks to school and
if they last until eleven
I might get the part.

Remember, Wind,
I didn’t cry when you kidnapped
my kite and those balloons.
Please, Wind,
be kind so I’ll be beautiful:
I’m trying out for princess
not the witch.
~ Joan Vayo, December 15, 1975

Thanks so much to Marc at Media Mojo for rescuing this tape! I’m going to listen to it bit by bit, knowing there’s a full 90 minutes of Mom’s precious voice, reading and interpreting her poetry to enjoy.

“Now, Wind” © 1975 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

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