In the early 1970’s when
I was in 10th grade, the workings of car engines intrigued me. I
went to the principal and asked permission to take auto shop. He denied permission
because I might get my dress greasy. Sadly, I did not push the issue.
Partially because of that experience, the title, The
All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion, drew me to this book. The idea of a
filling station run by “all girls”—women—unleashed all kinds of scenarios in my
mind, and I wanted to be there! Then I
read the description on the inside jacket flap. This summary described a woman
of a certain age, Sookie Poole (or Mrs. Earle Poole, Jr.), who discovers a
significant secret from her past involving her mother, the illustrious Lenore
Simmons Krackenberry. Sookie sets out on
a journey to find out the particulars of this secret.
However, the book is not really about the all-girl filling
station or the secret of Lenore Simmons Krackenberry. The book is really about
WASPS—Women Air Force Service Pilots. It begins in Point Clear, Alabama on 6
June 2005. As the story unfolds, Flagg uses research in the form of phone calls
and internet searches by Sookie to uncover her mother’s big secret, as well as letters
between characters in the past. The plot takes a few twists but Flagg keeps the
present moving along as the past unfolds. One aspect I like about this book is
that while some of the characters are not likeable, Flagg still treats them
gently. (I make this comment because I recently read a book where the author
hated his characters. I finished the book, but it was quite an unpleasant read
because of the author’s attitude.)
The All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion is a moving
account of the heroic service WASP’s provided and the challenges and prejudices
they faced. In the process, we also learn about the all-girl filling station
and the big secret. The book is an informative and moving tribute and an
enjoyable read.
My story—a Rosy
Secret
Everyone has secrets, just as everyone has told lies. Lies
have degrees of severity. A white lie is more acceptable than an outright lie. Secrets are not quite so colorfully
distinguished. Perhaps we should attach colors to secrets to indicate their
nature. Harmful secrets—our “dark” secrets--would be black, of course, with
maybe a gray secret being not quite so hurtful. Happy secrets could be rosy or
pink. Usually, we keep our “black” secrets to ourselves. Frequently, we end up
sharing our rosy secrets, so they are no longer secret.
Traditionally, at this point in entries on “Be-Lied,” I add
“My Story” as a companion piece to my non-fiction pieces. However, if I told
you one of my “black” secrets, then it would not be a secret anymore. Therefore,
I am going to write of a bittersweet rosy secret—a secret previously revealed--from
my past.
The Ph. D. was conferred upon me at the August, 1988,
convocation of Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. At that time, my
mother was suffering the debilitating effects of the chemotherapy that would
not send her breast cancer into remission. We did not know it then, but she would
live only six months longer. The trip from Baton Rouge to Carbondale would be
grueling for her, as much as she wanted to attend the ceremony. Because of her
illness, she preferred that my father stay home with her instead of making the
trip with other family members. Our sadness over my mother’s illness and disappointment
that my parents would not witness my graduation cast a shadow over the proud
accomplishment.
As I sat in my living room in Carbondale with the family
members who made the trip, I heard a knock on the door. I answered it to find
my parents! Secretly, they had decided to divide the trip into manageable
segments over two days so my mother could tolerate the drive. That rosy secret
is the dearest one of my life!
