October 4th, 1969

I won't forget that day. We had moved into the house in August and had finally got around to removing the disgusting carpets (the former owner was a vet and prodigious animal owner) and having the wood floors in every single room sanded and varnished. What little furniture we had was crammed into bathrooms and the kitchen and we had been living, with two very small children, in the basement. Although the floor people had promised that the finish would be dry a couple of days earlier, a bout of Indian Summer and the accompanying humidity slowed down the process.

It seemed that things couldn't get much worse. But they did. When I realized that #3 would be here before the end of the day, we lugged the dressers from the bathroom so I could take a shower and we made it to St. John's in time for Elizabeth's birth. As was the custom in those days, fathers were banished to a waiting room. Ernie was enjoying an Audrey Hepburn movie when he was summoned. He complained about missing the end.

But today, when we had lunch in Canton with Elizabeth and the four lovely children she and Jeff have produced, he didn't mention Audrey Hepburn once.