Christmastime series – Linda Mahkovec

Songs from Christmastime 1940: A Love Story — “Maybe” and “Only Forever”

Published on December 1, 2019September 24, 2020 by Linda Mahkovec - Author2 Comments

Throughout the Christmastime series, I often use paintings or songs to help tell the story.

In Christmastime 1940: A Love Story, there are two songs that reflect the internal stories of Lillian Hapsey and Charles Drooms.

There’s a point in the story where Lillian invites Mr. Drooms to join her and her boys in decorating their Christmas tree. He declines her invitation, believing she is simply being neighborly. However, her anger at his refusal makes him wonder if she sincerely wanted him to stop by. He had long ago closed the door to love. Yet later that evening, as he sits alone at the usual diner, his heart is pried open as he falls into the soft strains of the song “Maybe.” Following is an excerpt from that scene. (images from Pinterest)

Drooms sat at his usual booth, opened the menu that he knew by heart, and began to peruse it. The thought, the possibility that perhaps Lillian had been sincere in her invitation, struck him like a blow. What if she had really meant it? She certainly appeared offended when he declined. He tried to imagine himself sitting at the same table as her. What would they have to talk about? He felt both shaky and warm, almost happy at the thought.

He quickly dismissed such foolery, looked again at the menu and saw that he had been staring at the dessert page. He opened to the specials, but once again his thoughts drifted, and he imagined Lillian moving about her apartment. Was she clearing the dishes by now, trimming the tree? Was she thinking of him?

His gaze fell beyond the menu and into the dark wood of the empty booth. Never one for music, he was surprised to find himself lost in the simple lyrics of “Maybe.” Maybe, you’ll think of me. When you are all alone. He set his menu down and let the rest of the world fall away as he listened to the words, wondering at the desperate stirring in his heart.

The waitress came and asked him if he wanted the meatloaf special. When he didn’t answer, she smiled. “You like the Ink Spots, sir?”

Drooms frowned at being caught in a personal moment. “When did you start playing music here?”

She looked around, perplexed. “You mean the radio? We always have it on.”

He glanced down at the menu. “It must be on louder tonight or something. I’ll have the special.” He slipped the menu back in its stand and continued to frown as he tried not to listen to the song.

(Youtube)

The Ink Spots had great appeal to a wide audience in the 1930s and ’40s. Their ballad style lent itself to a host of love songs, as well as their rendition of the patriotic 1942 WWII song, “This Is Worth Fighting For.” https://bit.ly/32qSUJ2 (Youtube)

Maybe

Maybe you’ll think of me
When you are all alone
Maybe the one who is waiting for you will prove untrue
Then what will you do?
Maybe you’ll sit and sigh
Wishing that I were near, then
Maybe you’ll ask me to come back again
And maybe I’ll say maybe.

Towards the end of the book, the song “Only Forever” captures the happiness Lillian feels when it looks like her relationship with Charles is sealed. She experiences a sense of joy that she hadn’t expected to find again. Widowed, struggling financially, mother of two young boys, her dreams forsaken, she finally sees a beautiful future now awaiting her.

The following afternoon Lillian was in the middle of her Christmas baking. She wore her ruffled red and green Christmas apron and bustled about the kitchen, singing along with the radio. She didn’t want to appear too different to the boys, but she couldn’t forget that kiss, the warm embrace. She kept catching herself smiling as she remembered his hand in her hair, the gentleness in his voice when he said her name.

When Al Bowlly’s “Only Forever” came on, she turned up the volume and tried to dance with the boys. She could usually count on at least Gabriel to play along, but today both boys were restless and wanted to go outside, and the more she laughed and tried to twirl around with them, the more impatient they became.

“Can’t we go now, Mom?” asked Tommy. “I already read all my books, and if we don’t go now the library will close.”

“Yeah, Mommy, I want to go outside. I need some more books, too.” Gabriel ran to get his coat and started to put it on.

Lillian opened the oven, took out a batch of Christmas cookies, and set them on top of the stove.

“If we can’t go today,” she said, “we’ll go another day.”

“But I already read –”

“Now Tommy, what did I say? I can’t leave in the middle of baking.”

Gabriel stomped his foot. “But Mommy –”

“If you two don’t start behaving I won’t take you to see Santa tomorrow.”

Gabriel gasped at this possibility. “Mommy, we have to see Santa to tell him what we want!”

Tommy heard Drooms’s door open and close, and ran to look down the hall.

“Hi, Mr. Drooms!”

Gabriel also ran to the door and peeked out.

“Hi, Mr. Drooms! Will you take us to the libary?”

Drooms appeared in their doorway, dressed to go outside. He smiled at the boys, then at Lillian.

But she didn’t want to cross any as yet to be determined boundary. “Boys! Stop that. You know better.” She went to the door, pulled the boys back inside, and widened her eyes at them in warning.

Tommy relented. “Okay, okay.”

Lillian flushed with pleasure as she gazed up at Drooms. She had never seen him looking so handsome.

Though “Only Forever” was popularized by Bing Crosby in a 1940 movie (Rhythm on the River), and was performed by many different artists, it is the playful Al Bowlly/Jimmy Messene version that reflects the mood of Lillian at this point in the story.

(www.youtube.com)

Al Bowlly was popular during the 1930’s dance band era and recorded more than a 1000 records between 1927-1941.

He was killed in London in April of 1941 by a Luftwaffe parachute bomb. He recorded his last song two weeks before his death — (ironically) a duet with Messene of Irving Berlin’s satirical song about Hitler, “When That Man Is Dead and Gone.” (wikipedia)

Al Bowlly was among several performers who died related to the war, underscoring the pervasive loss and tragedy of WWII.

1942 – Carol Lombard died in a plane crash returning from one of her many War Bond rallies, devastating her husband, Clark Gable.

1943 – Leslie Howard, of Gone With the Wind fame, left Hollywood to return to Great Britain to make patriotic radio broadcasts and films. He was on the civilian KLM flight that was shot down by the Luftwaffe.

1944 – Band leader Glenn Miller volunteered to lead the U.S. Army military band. While traveling to entertain troops in France, his plane disappeared over the English Channel.

Only Forever

Do I want to be with you / As the years come and go?

Only forever / If you care to know.

Would I grant all your wishes / And be proud of the task?

Only forever / If someone should ask.

How long would it take me / To be near if you beckon?

Off hand I would figure / Less than a second.

Do you think I’ll remember / How you looked when you smile?

Only forever / That’s puttin’ it mild.

Ursula — the Christmastime series

Published on October 29, 2019September 24, 2020 by Linda Mahkovec - Author2 Comments

The Christmastime series takes a turn beginning with Christmastime 1943, with the sub-plot set on Kate’s farm in Illinois. Kate, Charles’s sister, and her two teen-aged daughters, Ursula (17) and Jessica (15), run the farm while her four sons are away at war. With the workforce severely diminished, and the demand for food production greater than ever, Kate does what many farmers had to do – she uses German POWs to help with the farm work.

Her elder daughter Ursula is furious about it. Francis, the brother she was closest to, has recently been killed by the Nazi army and Ursula is filled with anguish and hatred of the German soldiers. She adamantly refuses to have anything to do with the POWs.

Below are a few excerpts from Christmastime 1943: A Love Story, along with images suggestive of scenes with Ursula during the seasons of 1943-1945. Ursula: beautiful, willful, dreamy, passionate. (All images are from my Pinterest board Ursula – the Christmastime series, 1943, 1944, 1945.)

Our first introduction to Ursula comes from Lillian. She’s been working on a series of war posters with the theme of Women in the Workforce, and the next posters will be on women and farm work. Based on an earlier visit to Kate’s farm, Lillian sketches an image of a young girl on a tractor.

Lillian studied it and realized that she had largely based the girl on Jessica, the younger of Kate’s daughters – blonde, cheerful, wholesome. Lillian had first tried the sketch based on Ursula, but the look was all wrong.

Again, Lillian gazed out the window, tapping the pencil against her cheek. Both of Kate’s daughters were extremely pretty – but Ursula had that elusive quality of beauty. Though her features were striking, Lillian felt that her beauty had more to do with her expressions, her soft way of speaking, her behavior – she was both pensive and brisk – as if her mind pulled her in one direction, and her body in another. No, thought Lillian, Ursula was more difficult to imagine on a tractor than Jessica, even though Kate wrote that Ursula had really taken up the slack at the farm as one by one her brothers had left. It was easier to imagine Ursula as some kind of mythic heroine – Diana the huntress, perhaps, or a winged victory figure.

Lillian thought of Ursula as she was two years ago – setting out on one of her restless walks across the fields or along the country road, or tucked away poring over a book. Her heart was set on going to college, and that was the life that would best suit her. She was intelligent, curious, strong-willed. Kate had sent a photo in the summer, and Ursula was prettier than ever. Lillian began a sketch of such a girl – tall and slim, with wavy dark hair, and those exquisitely lovely eyes – deep blue, beneath eyebrows like angry wings, smooth and beautiful. An air of intensity surrounded her, as if a quiet fire burned within.

Another impression of Ursula comes from Ed, the old farmhand who has worked for the family for years. He has news for Kate regarding the arrival of the POWs, but on hearing Kate and Ursula arguing about it inside, he waits out on the porch, reminiscing about Ursula as a child.

Glancing back at the kitchen door, he thought how he loved them all – Kate and her sons and daughters. He was fond of each and every one of them, but he couldn’t help the soft spot he had for Ursula. Even as a curly-topped child, she had a way of winning people over with her wide-eyed wonder and her demand for answers – “But why? How? What would happen if…?”

He chuckled, remembering how she used to ride around with him on the tractor, how he helped her learn to ride a bike, how she and little Francy used to hold hands as they jumped from the hayloft. And how, after her father died, she had transferred much of the affection for her father onto him.

How quickly the years had passed. Now here she was, almost eighteen years old, and more headstrong than ever. Yet sweet as a summer day. A hard worker, and capable, yet he often caught her staring out at the sunsets, or wondering at the beauty of snowdrifts, or listening to a strain of music on the radio with a hand pressed to her chest. There was a poet inside her, he often thought – though he doubted it would have the chance to come out now. If only she could have gone on to school, like she wanted. Well, there’s still time, he thought. He gave another shake of his head at the memory of the little girl who used to romp around the farm. Ursula. Here she was, seventeen – a breathtaking beauty in overalls.

Now Jessica, he thought, giving a little nod. She had more chance for overall, everyday happiness. Was more practical, down to earth, did not set her expectations up there with the moon. And was dang pretty. But Ursula…

Ed rubbed his whiskers, and his tanned wrinkled face scrunched in worry. She had that kind of dark beauty that troubled the heart. He took off his hat, inspected the rim, and readjusted it on his head. Well, they’re still young. It’ll all work out, somehow – it always does.

Ursula, after the argument with her mother about having German POWs on the farm.

Ursula plopped down in a chair in her overalls, arms crossed, an angry fire burning in her eyes. The only adornment she allowed herself these days – and in Kate’s eyes, evidence of her contrariness – were the amethyst drop earrings her family had given her after she was accepted into the women’s college downstate. She wore them every day as a reminder that she would go to college. Some day. And though Ursula wouldn’t admit it, she was just as hungry for a bit of beauty as was Jessica – perhaps even more so. In the middle of milking the cows, or feeding the chickens, or hauling firewood into the house, she would lightly touch the earrings – as a reminder of her dreams.

Jessica later attempts to give another point of view regarding the POWs — but to no avail.

“I was all ready to hate them. I really was. But it’s hard to do when they look like our neighbors. When they look like us.”

Ursula could listen to no more. “Listen to you. They’re brutal Nazis! They’re killing our men. Doing horrible things to the Poles and Jews. You’ve read the papers, seen the newsreels. Don’t be fooled by their appearance. They’re nothing like us. They’re cold-blooded murderers. Never forget that.”

She stuffed the remnants of the overalls into the rag basket, and then stood stiffly, sore from overdoing her chores.

“You look all done in, Ursula,” said Kate. “Why don’t you go soak in a hot bath? It’s been a long day.”

Ursula went upstairs and ran the bathwater, letting her clothes drop heavily to the linoleum floor. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, pushing aside her hair. She did look done in.

She touched the amethyst earrings. It had been so long since she felt pretty, since she had worn a dress, since she had gone to a dance. Everything now was bleak and grim. Her brothers, and most of the town boys, were gone. Everyone was having a hard time, having to adapt to all the changes. For the most part, she didn’t mind. She loved the farm, loved the fields at sunset, had even learned to love the backbreaking work. It kept her mind focused, prevented it from filling with daydreams. Foolish dreams of college and travel, of seeing the beautiful capitals of Europe. She wondered if those cities would even still be standing after this nightmarish war was over.

The steam gradually blurred her reflection – just as her dreams had blurred and faded, she thought. No matter. There wasn’t time for girlish daydreams. Her mother was right; she had behaved childishly today. Work needed to be done, and she would do it.