The Girl Graduate: Part V: Viola In Bloom

Viola sat at her bedroom window wistfully watching the falling snow. The wind was catching small sections of it, creating little frosty cyclones. Oh, how she wished she was outside to feel both wind and snow upon her face! There would be no chance of that - none whatsoever, unless she was lucky enough to get to the front door without anyone taking notice. As she gleefully pondered how she would pull off her great escape, she settled back into her chair and closed her eyes. In just a few weeks, she would celebrate her 100th Christmas. Notwithstanding the big fuss made over her last birthday, she was not certain that crossing the century mark was all it was cracked up to be.

Viola: I was not a hot house plant, after all. Surely a little cold air and a romp in the snow would have done no harm.

Grad: I imagine they just wanted to protect you, Viola. You could have caught cold, or fallen on ice and...

Viola: And what? What is there to fear at that age?

Grad: You've got a point there, Vi.

In her reverie, Viola thought about the telephone call from the stranger - something about Evie's little graduation book. She might forget what she had for lunch yesterday; but, she had no trouble at all in remembering fine details of the long-ago past. The faces of the Class of 1924 remained crystal clear to Viola; they never aged. The old woman who stared back at her from the mirror this morning was the one she could not recognize. Was it really 83 years ago that she delivered her valedictory address, she mused? She could still recite portions of it by heart.


Anyone entering Viola's room at that moment would have thought she was napping. Why did people assume that the ancient did nothing but doze, she fussed inwardly. In point of fact, she was wide awake, and young once more. It was another December - the winter of 1925. Once again she was in charge of planning an event - the annual reunion ball. Her mission was to arrange a program that would be in keeping with the "spirit of the occasion for renewing old memories of life at Old W.H.S." to be held on January 1. When she walked into the ballroom, even she was enthralled with the elaborate decorations. Viola had never felt more beautiful. She had selected a dark green silk frock with long sleeves that ended in a ruffle at each wrist. The drop waist skirt consisted of three soft tiers which, she rightly imagined, would float beautifully around her slim figure as she danced. As the strains of "I'll See You In My Dreams" filled the hall, she and a handsome young man (who I do not believe was Joseph) took to the floor - they danced all night. "If I live to be one hundred," she thought, "I will never forget how happy I am tonight." She never did forget.

As I reported previously, Viola and Joseph got "quietly married" in 1931. He became a successful lawyer; she stayed at home and raised the children which, I have no doubt, brought her satisfaction and joy. I do not know how she filled her days, but knowing Viola as I do, I am confident she filled them well. Joseph died suddenly when Viola was 57. For the first time in her life, she charted her course according to her own compass.

She would later tell her granddaughter that her life did not begin until Joseph died. She would always laugh when she said it; nevertheless, there was truth behind the wink. Joseph left her financially comfortable, and no one would have been surprised if his widow had decided to live out her days gardening and attending the theater. But such a life was not for our Viola - most definitely not.

Instead, Vi went to work. First, as an administrative secretary (apparently still utilizing what she learned in "short and type" class). And then, after attending college and receiving her four-year degree in business administration at the age of 70, as an accountant. By the way, Viola graduated from college with Honors (No surprise there, Vi), and became a charter member of the External Studies Honor Society at Winona State. Her late-in-life accomplishments continue to be a great source of pride to her family.

Viola did not retire until after she turned 80, and lived on her own until she was 95. From newsletters published by the retirement home to which she moved, it is apparent that she remained in the thick of things. Viola breathed deeply of every minute she was given.

I had planned on visiting Viola after the holidays in January 2007. I was to pack up Evie's little book, and the yearbooks. I had so many questions for her; however, I found myself in an odd situation. Whereas, by that time she was a friend to me, I was merely a stranger to her. I wasn't certain how I would ask the questions for which I wanted answers: whether all the girls had a crush on Duffie (as I surely did), whether she had learned about her paternal grandfather's suicide, her thoughts on marriage and careers, what she would have done differently. Finally I decided I'd just say hello and tell her about my journey back in time. I'd let her lead the way, and the rest would fall into place. Nevertheless, I still had to explain what I was doing there, and I was very nervous. She might find the whole project a ghastly waste of time. But I was also certain that if our roles were reversed, she would press on. So press on it was.

Viola died on January 11, 2007; we never had our meeting.

I was stunned and saddened and angry at myself for not searching harder. I could have found her a full year earlier; I could have traveled during the holiday.

Viola: Well, don't feel too badly, my dear, it could have been worse. You might have come to call when a Vikings game was on, and I would have been too busy to see you then. You would have had to wait until half time.

Grad: I was fore-warned that you were quite a Vike's fan.

Viola: Rabid, Grad, rabid.

Grad: (In a whisper so soft it could only be heard by dogs) Go, Bears.

I wish I had had the chance to tell Viola how greatly I admired her and what an inspiration she was and continues to be - how much I miss her even though we never met. I'll try to remember to breathe deeply, Vi, especially when the wind is blowing and the snow is falling and the seas are too rough to be safe. I'll try to remember to breathe deeply especially then.