by Frank Deford
“Most,” I said. “I’m w/ Metropolitan Life next door. I never saw you before.”
“Well, I was a runner. I just got promoted this week.”
So that explained his presence. We conversed some more in the days that followed. I have to be honest, that this was the lst boy who had turned my head even a smidgeon since I fell in love w/ Horst, but innocent chatter hardly qualified as unfaithfulness. Inevitably, altho he was very shy, he told me his name, which was James Branch (but call me “Jimmy”), & I told him mine, so then he asked what time I got off, & while I shouldn’t have responded to that, I did, & sure enough, he was nervously waiting for me at the door of #877 when I got out.
Hallelujah! I almost threw the pages up in the air. At last Mom had met Dad, and surely now that infamous Teutonic lothario, Herr Gerhardt, would recede into the mists. So, relieved and thrilled, I read on:
Jimmy asked if I wanted to get a soda, but I explained how I had to go to swimming practice. That fascinated him, so he suggested maybe the next day, & I explained I went to practice 5 days a week & sometimes more.
“Where do you go?” he asked, & I told him about the pool at the London Terrace.
“You go into the city?” That impressed him even more than the swimming itself, because you should understand that even tho B’lyn was every bit a real city, & was laid cheek by jowl with Manhattan, B’lyn people possessed something of an inferiority complex & referred to Manhattan as “the city.”
“Look, Jimmy,” I said, “you’re a really nice guy, but I have to tell you, I have a very serious beau.”
“Oh, I see.”
“We’re going to get married.”
“He’s a very lucky fellow.”
“I’m a very lucky girl.”
After that, when I brought the deposits over, most days I’d make sure to go to different tellers, because I didn’t want to lead Jimmy on. Well, then he outfoxed me. Usually I’d swing by the bank right before lunch. I’d bring a sandwich & thermos to work, so I’d go over to McCarren Park & read a book while I ate. Wise to my routine, one day Jimmy switched his lunch hour, so he was waiting for me outside my building. He had his sandwich & thermos, too. “Would you at least have lunch w/ me?” he asked. “Your beau couldn’t get mad at that.”
And so we did, & I must say we enjoyed learning about one another (although I kept Horst off limits in our tete-a-tetes). In fact, I agreed that we could eat together in McCarren Park once a week, on Thursdays, when he could change his lunch hour. So I learned that Jimmy came from upstate N.Y., from poor, unhappy circumstance, that he had left home after high school, taken odd jobs & whatnot, worked in the CCC for a year & then come to try his luck in the big city.
Shy as he was, he was not at all lacking in confidence, but because he’d had such a difficult life, Jimmy was as unsure of the world as he was sure that he could make his way in it. Everything had been such a struggle for him, & he was very much alone. That scared me a bit, for he needed someone so terribly much, & I realized that he wanted me to be that someone. But despite his bashfulness, he was bright & funny, &, it is worth noting again: he was awfully cute—or cute as a bug’s ear, as we were wont to say then. But, at the end of the day, none of that mattered. I still waited as anxiously as ever for Horst’s next letter & went to sleep every nite thinking of him alone.
III.
The national championships for ’37, which were scheduled for Jones Beach, were fast approaching. L. deB. was not only convinced that I’d win, but that I could very possibly break Eleanor’s record. He presented me w/ my black WSA silk suit w/ the big S in the middle of my chest, & let me tell you, the lst time I put that on, I was so proud I would’ve busted my buttons if I’d been wearing any. Back in my room at the Schooleys, I put it on again, even tho it was still damp, & I just stood there, admiring myself, turning this way & that in front of the mirror as if I were a lingerie model. The championships were only 2 wks away.
Then, a few days later, I came out of my bldg on the way to the bank. It was the middle of July, extremely hot, so I just had on a blouse & skirt (& the obligatory slip & stockings). I took about 2 steps toward #875, when all of a sudden this big, burly guy came out of nowhere & jumped me. At lst, I was so taken by surprise that I didn’t appreciate what was happening, but then I realized he was trying to steal the canvas bank bag from me. He’d obviously been watching my routine.
He also probably figured that I was a frail little vessel, so I’m sure he was shocked when he wasn’t able to yank the bag away from me right off the bat. I just instinctively hung on. But it all happened so fast, you see. I don’t think it even occurred to me to scream “help.” But then, there were lots of people all around me—within feet of me!—& they were just as stunned themselves. Everyone just stood there, gaping. I couldn’t blame them. You just don’t expect a thing like this to happen in front of you, much less to you.
All the while the big guy—we called such scoundrels “yeggs” in those days—tugged at the bag. I tried to hold on for dear life, but he gave one last big yank, & he was so strong that he not only pulled the bag out of my grasp, but he caused me to lose my balance. My momentum jerked me forward, & I tumbled hard, head-first, onto the sidewalk. I was able to stick out a hand to break my fall, but then it was almost like I skidded along on the pavement.
Finally, a couple of people did yell, reaching out to try to grab the mugger, but he eluded them & dashed away, heading south. I’d banged my head when I fell, but not enough to get knocked out, & as I lifted my head up to watch the robber run away, suddenly, who did I see materialize but Jimmy. He’d just come out of the bank next door, to where I was headed, & had actually seen the scuffle. When he realized that, yes, it really was me being attacked, he’d immediately run towards us.
The thief had planned to make his getaway in Jimmy’s direction. A subway station was up the other way, at the big intersection where Manhattan crossed Greenpoint, so obviously it made sense for him to run in the opposite direction, where there were fewer people & less likelihood of police. He might’ve gotten away, too, but here came Jimmy, absolutely unafraid, running right at him. So the thief ducked across Manhattan Ave., dodging the traffic. Jimmy went right after him, cutting in front of a trolley. They were maroon & cream. Isn’t that funny? I haven’t thought about that in yrs, but now, as I write this, I can see it all as plain as day, Jimmy running right in front of that maroon & cream trolley car.
By now—& you know, this has hardly taken only a few seconds—a couple of nice people came over to attend to me. I just wanted to watch the chase, tho, so I kind of raised up, trying to look across the street. It was no contest. Jimmy was like a jackrabbit. Before the thief had even reached the next corner, at Milton St., he could see that Jimmy was going to catch him, so he dropped the bag in hopes that his pursuer would be satisfied to stop & recover the loot.
But Jimmy didn’t go for that dodge. A couple steps further on, right where the guy turned down Milton, Jimmy leapt onto his back & brought him down. Then he started pummeling him. By now, of course, all sorts of people had joined the chase. One of them picked up the bank bag, while some others pulled Jimmy off the thief & held the culprit till a couple of cops ran down from Greenpoint Ave. About time!
Jimmy just turned away & ran back toward me. I saw him coming, & I was scared he was going to get killed crossing the street. It didn’t seem like he even looked side to side for the cars. He only had his eyes on me, screaming my name. “Sydney! Sydney!” I think back, & it doesn’t seem like I can remember any other sounds the whole time, just Jimmy screaming my name.
When he got to me, I was sort of up on my knees, & he kneeled down before me. That’s when all of a sudden the whole thing hit me, & I began to cry. “Oh, Sydney—you all right?” he asked. I tried to answer, but I was having a delayed reaction, & now—now that I had my wits about me—now I realized what’d happened. Now I was scared. My face was cut from where it had scraped on the sidewalk, so I knew I looked a si
ght, but Jimmy was just gazing upon me w/ the greatest concern.
I thought he might even start to cry for me, so I reached out to hug him, because I needed to, & also because, knowing him, I knew he didn’t dare try to hug me himself because it’d be just like him to think I’d feel that he was taking advantage of the situation. There was such a sweetness to Jimmy Branch.
It wasn’t until that second that I felt the pain in my wrist. It had been such a to-do I hadn’t even realized that when I’d put out my right hand to break my fall, it had done something to my wrist. I just stared at it. Now I hurt like hell, but now was when I stopped crying. That was because I was suddenly in disbelief. “My wrist, Jimmy, my wrist!” I didn’t know whether it was broken or strained or sprained or what, but I knew I wasn’t going to be doing any swimming for a while. Just like there wasn’t any Olympics for me in ’36, there wouldn’t be any national championships for me in ’37. I would’ve felt cursed, but the wrist hurt too much for me to feel anything but the pain.
Well, suddenly, it seemed like the whole world descended on us. There were policemen, & one man who said he knew lst aid gingerly looked at my wrist & said “oh my,” & then the guy who’d retrieved the canvas bag appeared, & then there was a police siren, & the people who weren’t being solicitous to me were congratulating Jimmy, patting him on his back, helping him dust himself off, etc. A trolley had stopped dead in the middle of the street & all the passengers were staring at me. Not only that, but the fuss had brought everybody running out of their offices & shops to see what all the commotion was. Remember, there was no air conditioning then except maybe in movie theaters (where it said: “IT’S COOOOL INSIDE” w/ icycles coming off the letters), & since it was one of the hottest days of the summer, all the windows were wide open.
In fact, suddenly, there was Mr. S himself & most of the girls from the office—all part of the crowd hovering around me. I told whoever it was who’d picked up the bag: “Give it to him”—meaning Mr. S.
Then a cop said, “What happened exactly, miss?” but even before I could answer, a woman said, “Officer, this young man is a hero.”
Jimmy kind of ducked his head, because he was quite modest by nature, but I was so proud of him, & even tho I was holding my wrist, I said, “The lady’s right, Mr. S. If it wasn’t for Jimmy that guy would’ve gotten away w/ all the day’s premiums.”
So right off the bat, w/o missing a beat, Mr. S said, “You wanna know something? You’re gonna get a reward!”
And all the people standing around began to clap & cheer in the most heartwarming fashion. Jimmy told me later that he’d never felt so good about himself in all his life—notwithstanding how worried he was about me. “But,” he told me later, “you’re tough for a girl, Sydney, so I knew you’d be all right.”
I put Mom’s pages down and just shook my head, absolutely flabbergasted. It was one thing for my father not to want to talk about Guadalcanal, but I found it simply incomprehensible that neither he nor Mom had ever told me this lovely little story before. I mean, this was an absolute “My hero!” moment. Surely, this must’ve been the very instant when Mom began to turn her affection away from the self-assured Horst to the sweet and humble Jimmy. My father was stepping up! Pleased, I went into the kitchen and got a ginger ale and a couple of cookies, and returned to turn the page:
Well, the episode made Jimmy Branch an absolute celebrity, B’lyn division. Not only did Mr. S immediately give him a $l0 reward, but when he reported the incident to the home office, they doubled it. The irony was, too, that there really wasn’t that much $ in the bag, because, as I’ve explained, very few people were so naïve as to send cash thru the U.S. mail. Still, had the stupid robber gotten away, it would’ve been a real nuisance going back to all the folks who had sent in checks & $ orders. So the reward was richly deserved.
The Bank also gave Jimmy a dollar-a-week raise & a letter of commendation & the manager took him out to a very fancy lunch & told him he had a bright future at the bank. Not only that, but the B’lyn Eagle took Jimmy’s photo & put it in the paper, making him “Good Citizen Of The Week.”
Neither was I forgotten. I not only enjoyed a great deal of sympathy for suffering the broken wrist & the other cuts and bruises, etc., but I was also recognized for being such a brave girl & not just swooning when I was attacked. On my lst day back to work, brandishing my cast and bandages, etc., Mr. S presented me w/ a lovely bouquet, then led the entire staff in a round of applause for me. “You wanna know something?” he asked the assembled. “If Sydney hadn’t fought so courageously when the yegg attacked her, he would’ve gotten away before the courageous young man could give chase & save the day.”
I tried to be a good sport & not let on how disappointed I was that I couldn’t compete in the national championships, but, of course, I was absolutely crushed. I wanted a good race. I was never one of those athletes who thrived on practice. If there hadn’t been a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (that’s the Tokyo Olympics in my case), I wouldn’t have swam and swam and swam all those damn laps. So I have to admit that, alone in my room, I brought out my new WSA bathing suit & held it up before me w/ my good hand. And I cried.
Another offshoot of the incident was that now all the single gals in the office, having discovered Jimmy, #l, fell for him themselves, &/or #2, could not believe how I could be resisting his advances. “What is your story, morning glory?” Iris asked me, uncomprehending of how I could be so cool to such a honey of a guy. Jimmy’s picture from the Eagle was posted on the office bulletin board, there for all to see & rave about (particularly) in my presence.
And, of course, it was impossible for me not to accept Jimmy’s invitation to go out on a dinner date w/ him, especially since he told me that besides getting a new suit, that was how he wanted to spend the $20 reward. On me. Under the circumstances, I knew this could in no way be construed as cheating on Horst. Mr. S—for he and Mrs. S were also both firmly now on the Jimmy Branch bandwagon—even suggested a restaurant that he felt sure would advance Jimmy’s cause in his pursuit of my heart.
It was a place on Montague Street called Mammy’s Pantry, which doesn’t sound like much, but for some reason, there in the bosom of B’lyn, of all things, it specialized in seafood from my own Chesapeake Bay. Jimmy had never even heard of crab cakes before, but he adored them. He walked me back to the Schooleys, & I told him that I’d had a lovely time, which was true.
“So when can I take you out again?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.”
“Don’t you like me?”
“Of course I do. Can’t you tell that, dopey? I think you’re aces. But I’m in love w/ another boy, & I’m going to marry him. Come on, you KNOW all that.”
“But, Sydney, he’s in Germany.”
I’d had to tell him that much about Horst by now. But I just replied: “Jimmy, it doesn’t matter whether he’s in Timbuctoo. So please, do yourself a favor & forget about me. Why, there’s at least a doz. girls in my office who’re crazy about you. And I mean some of the prettiest gals at Metropolitan.”
Jimmy just shook his head. “I don’t care, Sydney. I’ve just fallen for you like a ton of bricks, &—” I could tell that bashful as he was he’d really gotten his nerve up & was going to try to kiss me. I wanted to escape the embarrassment of rejecting him, so very quickly, I just stuck out my good hand, even if it was the left one. He sighed & took it in both of his & held me there. “Just tell me ONE thing, Sydney.”
“Okay.”
“Suppose—just suppose—you’d met me lst.”
“lst what?”
“You know, before the German fellow. Could you have fallen in love w/ me, then?”
“You can’t change things, Jimmy. You can’t change time.”
“Just suppose.”
Well, I had to put an end to this. “No, Jimmy, I can’t suppose. You’re the nicest person, but I love Horst.”
So very quickly, I reached up & pecked him on t
he cheek, & then I dashed inside. In B’lyn Heights at that time, as in most of the U.S., nobody felt it necessary to lock their doors, so I could make my escape w/o prolonging the agony.
IV.
I didn’t even go to Jones Beach, to the nationals. I simply couldn’t bear to be there, sidelined, watching the other girls swim. But when my cast was removed, dutifully I started practicing again. At work, Mr. S had initially been reluctant to let me start carrying the checks & $ back over to the bank, but I assured him that “lightning doesn’t strike twice,” & that I retained no fears of being assaulted again. I did, however, continue to make a point not to go to Jimmy’s window, even tho I could see him eyeing me. And so, soon, I was back to my routine, & I even swam in a small meet in Sept., winning my race easily.