A Mysterious American Makes a Big Impression
By MARGARET LAW
It was the mid-Forties and the Second World War in Europe has just ended. My sister and I were on our first read holiday. Travel between Scotland and Ireland for civilians during wartime had been banned, but now the ban had been lifted and we were traveling from Scotland to Dublin, Ireland.
We were in our early twenties and seeing the Irish countryside, so fresh and green was a sight for sore eyes. We had spent a few days in a small town in Donegal (part of the Irish Free State) and were delighted to be able to browse through stores filled with goods long denied us during six long years of war.
Ireland, being neutral has no shortage of goods. We couldn’t resist spending some of our limited funds and I remember buying a pair of small red shoes for my young nephew. And we appreciated the relaxed atmosphere of Ireland, especially after the austerity of wartime Scotland.
We boarded the train for Dublin. As we took our seats, a handsome young American joined us in the compartment. We could tell he was wealthy, both by the clothes and his genuine leather luggage. He was very tall with thick hair.
You can imagine how pleased we were to have such an interesting traveling companion. And if we were rather overwhelmed, you must remember we were young, and at an age to appreciate such an interesting member of the opposite sex.
For six years we had only seen men in uniform or the ones who were in rather shabby, inferior clothes due to wartime conditions. But here was this young, handsome American sitting beside us. We were impressed.
He spoke to us; told us he was on a trip to Ireland to visit the land of his ancestors. He asked us if we knew any Irish songs and as my sister had a very good voice, quite soon we were going through our repertoire, adding his selection to ours, for as it turned out, he was familiar with several Irish songs.
We reached the border and passed through customs. We had bought a few paltry items, probably not worth more than $10, and we were uncertain whether we should declare them or not.
At one point I even considered asking our traveling companion to hide our few items under his jacket. But honesty won out, especially when he advised us that it would be better to declare the goods.
And as I went into the Customs Office, I could see our friend peering through the train window taking it all in. All was in order and my career as a budding smuggler ended right there. The train went on its way and some hours later we arrived in Dublin where we bid our friend goodbye.
Next morning we strolled through the streets of Dublin and passing a news kiosk decided to buy a local newspaper. It was only then that we learned our traveling companion had been John F. Kennedy.
|
