Greetings on the eve of 1964, which I hope will be a better year for all of us than the last one. (We had our annual photo card taken, of course, but I couldn't bring myself to send it in the wake of the national tragedy.) Our family is well and I hope yours is, too. Our new addition is little Gene, named for my father who sadly passed away this summer. Don keeps busy in the ad game and I've gotten involved with local politics. Sally is still talking about the solar eclipse she saw with her teacher and Bobby can't wait to see real rockets at the World's Fair. Sometimes I think we're raising children from Outer Space!
This album has special meaning for me this year. I'm tickled that I'm able to spend Christmas in Ossining after all. Henry splurged for jet tickets to bring us home for the holidays. The best present he could have given me and little Gene.
Welcome, neighbor. Make yourself comfortable. I don't usually like to talk about myself, but since you asked. I wasn't always a happy homemaker. I was a fashion model until I met my husband Don on a photo shoot. He was the copywriter on an ad for a Russian Blue Fox coat I was modeling. After the shoot, he saw I didn't want to give the coat back. He asked me out. I said no. Three weeks later, the coat arrived at my apartment and soon I was married and expecting our first child, Sally. Then Bobby came along. We moved to the suburbs, for the sake of the kids.
Now I'm in the throes of another transition. It's complicated. But what isn't, now that it's the 1960s?
(Family photos here lovingly borrowed from an album that belongs to Uncle AMC.)