November 4, 1931

Today I returned to Mrs. Vanderford's to pick up the signed document. It was from there that I had to travel to Brooklyn Heights and see my charge safely to Mr. John Rapalje. When I arrived Robert was there to hand me the document. "Mrs. Vanderford is playing tennis. She instructed me to give this only to you and call you a motorcar to take you to Brooklyn." His accent was slight, but just enough to pepper his words with intrigue.

"That won't be necessary," I said. I could barely look up at him. "I can take a train."

"Don't be foolish, the car is on it's way." He smiled adding a quiet pause to our interaction. "I play on Friday and Saturday nights at the Big Apple. If the mood strikes you. It's up in Harlem."

Suddenly a horn was blown from outside. "Thank you," I knew my face was turning red. "Is that my car?"

He opened the large door and peered out. "It is ma'lady." He held the door for me and then quickly opened the door to the car waiting by the curb. "Safe travels to Brooklyn." He shut the door before I could thank him again. I must say, and I only admit this to the page, Robert is the most charming man I have ever met.

"So we're going to da Heights, huh?" The capped driver said through his large cigar. "To Mr. Jack?"

"Excuse me?" I asked through the haze of smoke.

"Is this thing bothering you? The ladies never like it."

"My roommate loves them," I said thinking of Dottie shooting pool and smoking cigars. "It's fine."

"She must be some dame."

"Oh she is... Who is Mr. Jack?"

He looked in his mirror. "Da man you're going to see."

"His name is John Rapalje."

"Right and everyone who knows him well calls him Jack." I was amazed at his ability to drive while never looking at the road.

"You know him well?"

He smiled wide, "I'm his driver."

I felt a twinge of embarrassment. I forgot how green I am about some things. "He sent you all the way up here for me?"

"Uh huh. By da way, I'm supposed to be a proper gentleman and introduce myself. These was his instructions. I'm Rudy. My mudda called me Rudolpho but that was back when the nuns would hit me with rulers." He extended his hand into the back seat.

I shook it, "Nice to make your acquaintance, Rudy. I'm-"

"Ms. Graydon. I know. I got your whole run-down. I'd love to go up to them tracks up in Saratoga one day. I love playin' the ponies."

At this point, little shocked me, especially that people I would've ever dreamed of knowing knew more about me than my hall mates. "Oh in Saratoga they're horses, not ponies."

He started laughing through his cigar. "You're funny, Ms. Velma. Can I call you Ms. Velma? I hate last names. It's so formal"

"I see. Of course. You can actually call me Velma."

"No, no, not to a lady. It wouldn't be proper."

"Whatever you choose."

"Horses," he continued to laugh. For the life of me, I still can't figure out what he found so funny.

Some minutes later, he made a series of sharp turns and then one giant left turn onto a grand bridge. "Ever been to Brooklyn Ms. Velma?"

"No, this will be my first trip."

"Ever seen da Brooklyn Bridge?"

"No."

"Well you're on it. A marvel of human engineerin'."

He wasn't kidding. We drove through the cathedral-like towers and seemingly floated over the river. I'm not sure I had ever been that high in my life. Or at least high enough to see the entirety of Manhattan Island and the low rolling hills of Brooklyn. It looked like a patchwork of brownstones and churches. The river was spotted with ships and to the left, two other massive bridges. And then for the first time, I saw the Statue of Liberty. All at once I lost my breath.

"You've never seen dis have you? Your nose is on da glass."

He was right and my fingers too. "I apologize," realizing I was leaving smudge marks on the glass.

"No, please. It isn't often I show someone dis site for the first time. People, they forget when they do dis all the time. People forget you can see da ocean from here. Makes me proud to be home, Ms. Velma."

"I'll bet it does."

We made it over to the Brooklyn side and landed in a small neighborhood of quaint homes. "This is what they call Brooklyn Heights. I guess cause it's so high up."

EDITOR'S NOTE: The entry ends here and continues onto the November 6th. Velma offers no explanation as to why she stopped there.

November 1, 1931

The ladies of Hewitt Hall sponsored an All Hallow's Eve party. There was punch and we wore masquerade masks decorated to look ghoulish. A girl from Syracuse suggested bobbing for apples, which was a favorite fall activity in Saratoga when I was a child. It was most fun. The most enjoyable thing was to watch Dottie and Sarah's reaction to putting their heads down into a bucket full of water. I believe at that moment they bonded as two girls from the city amongst many who weren't. They talked for near an hour, laughing and joking with one another.

When we went upstairs Dottie said, "I was pretty sure that Sarah girl was a wet sock, but she ain't really."

"I'm sure she'll be happy to know it," I told her. When we walked into the room, I expected Dottie to go right out and ready herself for a night at the Bakery. "Not going out tonight?"

Dottie smiled deviously. "Nah. Tonight is a night in. She pulled out a clear bottle of amber liquid. The hooch came to us."

I was immediately panicked. "DOTTIE, if they catch you you'll be expelled. They'll expel me for letting you do it."

She started laughing, "Who's gonna catch us? The head mistress has gone to a Halloween party over at Columbia. Besides, we're having a guest." Almost on cue there was a knock on the door. "Speakin' of the devil." She went over to open the door. When she did, Sarah was standing on the other side.

"SARAH!" I yelled out. "You should be home."

"Listen, mother, Ira knows I'm here. I told him I was spending the night uptown with my highly responsible friend, Velma." She shut the door and pulled three glasses out of her bag. "His response was, as he was handing me these three glasses, 'loosen that goyishe girl up.' So if anyone asks, this was an Ira-sponsored event."

"With a little help from Howie," Dottie said as she poured, what I assumed, was whiskey into the glasses. Dottie passed around the glasses. She raised hers up. "To the real spirits."

Sarah said, "To breaking Velma out of her school marm costume."

I started laughing as we clinked the glasses. And we drank. All night.

I'm neglecting to report how awful I feel at this moment for it's not the memory I want to keep.

READER NOTE

The newest entry, October 28, 1931, is under the letter from Nick Fish, since I had started that entry first. The post was only recently finished. Sorry for any confusion.

Justin

AN UNEXPECTED EMAIL

I found this in my gmail inbox on Saturday evening. It was one of the inspirations to explain why I had taken a week off. Apparently I'm being watched.

Dear Mr. Rivers:

Hello, my name is Nick Fish. I am Velma Graydon's current assistant. Although we haven't met, I know quite a bit about you from Ms. Graydon. She speaks highly of you. In October she informed me that you would be "blogging" her journals and was happy that you had volunteered for the job. She also said that you and a counterpart are working on a graphic novel involving some of the incidents covered in said journals. All of these projects sound exciting, but I was a bit dissappointed to see that you have neglected the blog now for over a week. I have not reported this to Velma, but she has asked me to begin printing the entries out so she can read them (more for her own amusement, I think). I told her I would start next week since we are both busy on a project and she would have little time to peruse them now. Consider it a friendly heads-up.

Also, Velma has finally completed the profile request you asked her for in November. She spent a great deal of time on the content. I will put the letter in the mail come Monday morning. Lastly, Velma said that, through a friend, she has come across a series of letters from Edwina Tulip of Brooklyn, New York to her sister Hazel Bumble of Southampton, England. She wanted me to relay that if you had interest in them, the Tulip family was ammendable to your using them in your research. Please let me know and I will pass those along as well.

Thank you for your time,

Sincerely,

Nick Fish.



My response:


Dear Mr. Fish,

Glad to meet you albeit over gmail. I assure you that I haven't abandoned the project. Just took some time off to rest the fingers. By Monday I will be back in action moving at a greater speed (I hope). As for Velma's letter, I greatly appreciate it and would love nothing more than to look at the letters from Edwina Tulip. I assume you have my address in Brooklyn.

Have a good one,
JR

October 28, 1931

I doubt there will ever be anything like seeing Park Avenue for the first time. At 8:49 AM I stepped up to the heavily gilded door of an opulent building numbered 519. When I rang the bell, a valet appeared immediately asking if I was Ms. Graydon. I said yes and he let me into a large flower-filled foyer. White lilies everywhere. At the top of the stairs was a woman in a plain black dress donning large pearls around her neck. She also had the earrings to match. Around her neck, resting over the pearls, was a thin chain with a pair of spectacles at the end. I did not assume it was Mrs. Vanderford. For some reason I expected her to be more lavish.

She descended the stairs. "You are early, Ms. Graydon. A very admirable quality. One Professor Loockersmans told me to expect of you. And one I thank you for."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Vanderford," Although I was nervous in these surroundings, once I heard her voice I was at ease. She was a calm presence amidst the stuffy wealth around her.

"I've been told this is your first assignment."

"Yes ma'am, it is."

"I apologize that your first task is so dull. I assure you, there will be more interesting things to be done." She motioned toward two large doors on our left and we walked in that direction. A striking young gentlemen opened the doors. "Would you enjoy a cup of tea, Ms. Graydon?"

"Thank you."

"Good, I would as well." She nodded to the gentleman at the door. He closed it behind us and she offered me a seat opposite her petite desk. "I'm glad you are here." She smiled. "We so need someone young in our numbers."

I smiled not knowing what she meant.

"You haven't met the others yet have you?"

"No ma'am, I have not."

"And Professor Loockersmans hasn't informed you who you work for?"

"I was assuming it was him, ma'am."

She sat back in her chair staring out the large window that overlooked Park Avenue. I noticed her forehead gathering over her brow. "No, Ms. Graydon. He found you, but you do not work for him." She averted her gaze to the near-bare desk and picked up the lone fountain pen that rested on it. She began twirling it slowly. "I am not at liberty to say anything more, Ms. Graydon. You must meet Mr. Rapalje. He will tell you more." The tall gentleman walked into the room with the tea. I was shocked at the speed of the delivery. The service was of course silver. "Thank you, Robert. Ms. Graydon how do you take your tea?

He placed the service on the desk and began to pour into the china cups. "One sugar." He fixed one with two sugars and a dash of milk and handed it to Mrs. Vanderford who promptly placed the pen down on the desk.

"Thank you, Robert."

He went ahead and placed one sugar in my cup and handed it to me.

"Thank you." I said sheepishly.

"Robert is a musician, Ms. Graydon. Well, when he isn't here slaving over me." She smiled. "He plays the trumpet. Isn't that right, Robert?"

His face became rosy. He looked a bit embarrassed. "Yes, Mrs. Vanderford." I noticed the slightest hint of an accent. It was Anglo in nature but I couldn't immediately place it.

"I asked him to play for me, but he said it wouldn't be proper. Then I asked where he plays and said it wouldn't be proper for a lady of my standing to attend. So it's a pinch really. Perhaps Ms. Graydon can go and report back to me."

I felt my face go red with embarressment. Robert simply smiled.

"Thank you, Robert." He nodded his head and left the room.

"He plays that jazz that everyone loves up in Harlem. He's parents came over from Scotland when he was six. His father manages my stables up in the Bronx."

I decided not to contribute that my father had a ranch in Saratoga. I made it my business not to become too friendly. I would be courteous and professional.

"Well Ms. Graydon, I'll take my package now."

"Oh, yes." I opened up my green satchel which I purchased especially for the job. I took out the envelope and handed it to her carefully.

After placing the spectacles to her eyes, she opened the document, took the pen and signed the front sheet. "That's that, then. It is done." I so wanted to ask what, but I didn't. "Your next duty will be to see this safely delivered to Mr. John Rapalje of Henry Street, Brooklyn. Unfortunately he will not be in town until next Friday. Thus I will keep the document and you can return it then." She smiled and then sipped her tea. "Seems like such a waste, all this running about for signatures."

I said nothing but sipped my tea politely.

"You'll see it all clearly, Ms. Graydon. The pieces will fit together nicely some day."

She kept telling me it was important work that I was doing. I just kept thinking that I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

October 27, 1931

After class I went to Loockersmans's office for my first assignment. When I arrived, Loockersmans was no where to be found. Harold said that he was unexpectedly called away and he had left a package for me to deliver. He took a large yellow envelope out of the giant desk drawer and handed it to me. Upon my initial examination I found no addressee.

"Where does it go?" I asked Harold.

He looked at me blankly for a moment and then it occurred to him. "Oh right, I'm supposed to give this to you as well. Follow me."

We walked to Harold's desk outside of Loockersmans's office and there was a white envelope with my name across it. "He told me to give this to you." He handed it to me sheepishly. "I still don't know why I can't do this for him. I am his assistant."

I looked at him a bit taken back by the jealous tone of his voice. "I'm not quite sure either. Perhaps he doesn't want to bog you down with useless tasks."

"No, you're special. He says it. Only you can do this for him."

Of course, I was very uncomfortable by this. Amidst my confusion as to what it is I am actually doing in this post, I still was not quite sure why the professor found me so promising, nor why he was insistent on me taking this job.

"I'm sure its nothing like any of that," I said to him. "Thanks for your help, Harold."

"Good luck," he said to me. I thanked him again and left.

Once I returned to my room I opened the white envelope.

It said simply:

Velma,
Deliver this package to a Mrs. Caroline Vanderford at 519 Park Avenue. It is between 59th and 60th Streets. She is expecting you tomorrow morning by 9 AM.
--GL

And so it begins.

December 12, 1931

This is Velma's posting from December 12, 1931 given to you on Christmas as per her request. I can see why she feels this is fitting. Happy Holidays to all who read.


Needing a break from my grueling final's preparation, I decided to do some Christmas shopping for my family. Now that I am earning a side income, I feel obliged to repay those who have shown me kindness and love in the past.I also had it in my mind to find little gifts for Dottie and Sarah even though Hanukkah ended for her two days ago. Both have helped to make New York City feel a bit more like home for me during these past three months.

I have heard Abby say that the only places worth shopping in New York are either Bergdorf Goodman or Saks Fifth Avenue. I'm sure I can afford neither, but I thought it would be fun just to take a trip downtown by myself and see what treasures I could find. So I rode the IRT downtown to 50th street and walked across to Fifth Avenue. I was told that both stores were within walking distance of each other, Saks Fifth Avenue being on 49th street and Bergdorff Goodman's being on 58th street. Once I reached Fifth Avenue, I noticed the towering Sak's which stood with its rigid canopies and faux columns like a giant gift box under St. Patrick's Cathedral. What grand sights to see standing next to one another. When I walked through the doors, I was amazed by what was on the other side. Like Alice stepping into Wonderland, I was in another world, one that was completely unknown to me. The smells of perfumes and powders immediately caught my nose, as my eyes spied these giant trees that wrapped up the columns of this marvelous room. There were white lights wrapped around every branch which made the store look positively magical.

Wandering around, I noticed that many people where looking, but not buying much. I have heard that since the Depression is taking its toll on all classes, people are less concerned with gifts and more concerned with putting food on their table. Walking through the women's department I saw a rainbow of cashmere scarves lied out on a mahogany table. I just loved the look of them and decided that I would purchase one for Dottie and one for Sarah, and green since all three of us love the color green. My mother's favorite color is blue, so I picked a blue one for her. Then I went and bought simple pins that suited the personalities of each of the women. A diamond shape for Dottie because she is a diamond in the rough, a locket pin for Sarah so she could put a small photograph in there. My mother would a receive a horse pin for when she goes to the races.

I went upstairs to the men's section and decided on silk neck ties for my brother and father. Although the event, rarely presents itself that they would wear them, I thought it would be nice for them to have for holidays and special occasions. When I brought my purchases up to the cashier who, I think, was amazed to see a girl of my age with such expensive tastes. When he rang the total, which I shall not record here, he asked if I was interested in opening a charge account at the store. I told him that would not be necessary. He then asked if I wanted the items gift wrapped and I said, of course. He packaged them and told me to take them to the gift wrapping room on the fifth floor. I did so. I choose different wrappings for each of the the people I was giving, which made the young woman behind the counter less than happy.

When I was through I exited out to Fifth Avenue and saw the most peculiar thing. Directly across the street from the store were heaping mounds of earth behind make-shift fences. There were dump trucks and bulldozers all standing dormant. A sign on the fence read, "FUTURE SITE OF THE JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER CENTER." It went on to say that it was going to be a complex of fourteen commercial buildings. I found the optimism of the sign and the size of the lot odd considering most development has been halted due to the Depression. The stranger sight was a line of men waiting beneath a 30-foot pine tree. It was wrapped haphazardly with garland, as if decorated for Christmas. At first I thought it was another breadline. But then I realized the men were being handed slips of paper. Most likely paychecks by the looks of their faces. Seeing as they had lunch pails and hard hats, I presumed they were being paid for their labor. I can only assume that the Christmas tree was erected in celebration of the work which is so scarce. The Christmas of 1931 would, perhaps, be the best for them. One they would never forget.

I wanted to run and tell Sarah to photograph the picture because I doubt there would be a sight like it again. It was an obvious impossibility so I walked up Fifth Avenue content to keep the image and feeling in my heart.