Girtha Rising – Part 3 — Welding Women
This story is a narrative reconstruction inspired by family history, place, and imagination.
Girtha was a welder and worked in the shipyard along with her daughter Frankie during WWII. She had no prior work experience and had been at home all during their marriage. Edgar had worked as a logger and a policeman. Girtha tended the garden, maintained the housekeeping and raised the children. When war broke out, Portland, Oregon was a boom town. Opportunities for men and women were plentiful. There were more jobs than workers.
Edgar, Girtha and Frankie applied to the Oregon Shipbuilding Corporation together. He likely wanted to be where he could keep an eye out for them and take action if the work site got too rough.
Frankie certainly needed all the money she could earn because her husband Jack, while utterly charming and a sweet talker, was certainly not a doer. Most of his working ideas involved a scheme of one kind or another. He could talk his way into a sales job with his easy charm, but lacked the follow through to make a real living. Mostly he made his drinking money.
Jack had signed on at the shipyard earlier that year but the physical labor actually required did not suit his way of living. Bosses required you to be there on time, work all day with no punching out early. Not for Jack, he would set his own hours in his own way.
When Frankie first presented Jack with the family bills to be paid, just like mama had always done for daddy, he had just laughed in her face.
“Hey honey doll, you gotta find a way to take care of the paper. I’ve got my mind on the big picture, I’m sussing out a payoff. I ain’t your sugar daddy.”
Frankie didn’t know how to make money appear when there wasn’t any. It had never occurred to her that it cost money to have water, groceries and a place to live. Daddy and mama just took care of it.
When Girtha stopped over to visit Frankie and her darling granddaughters she found them sitting in the dark.
“Frankie, what is going on?” she flicked the light switch with no result. The dark was settled in the room.
“Where is Jack?”
“Mama, I want to come home. I’m cold, it’s been dark here since last night and Jack hasn’t been here for over a week. How do I make the lights go on mama?”
Girtha pulled her daughter up and held her close. Frankie’s shoulders heaved in jerking sobs. Girtha held her tighter and stroked her hair.
“Awww, shhh we’ll work this out. Say, let’s pack up some clothes for you and the girls. Come now, we will sort it out Frankie.”
As they drove cross town, Frankie stared out the window and wouldn’t look straight at Girtha. The light had dispelled the gloom that had settled in the apartment with her electric disconnected. Girtha was silent waiting for Frankie to open up for a heart to heart and pour out her feelings as she had always done in the past. But Frankie kept her gaze on the storefronts, stop signs and carefree folks on the sidewalks. Girtha watched her daughter’s lower lip tremble and was troubled by how tightly she was gripping her handbag.
Girtha looked in her rearview mirror and saw the children sitting in the backseat looking confused and a little frightened by how their mom was behaving. Tension was thick in the car.
Not knowing what else to do she started to sing for her granddaughters,
“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf tra la la la la”
“More! More, grandma”
“Say, long ago there were three little pigs, little handsome piggy wigs…” she sang the familiar story, diverting their attention while she drove down the avenue.
When they arrived back at the house, Girtha settled the girls in. She brought a cup of coffee for Frankie and sat down with her as she scanned through the evening Portland Journal. She noticed a big advertisement for lady shipyard workers. The radio had been broadcasting stories about how women were getting good paying work. The shipyards even had babysitting for the children. Imagine!
She plunged forward, taking her chances and hoping she wasn’t stepping over the line with her daughter.
“Frankie, I love you so much. I just don’t know how to make this better for you. Daddy and I always have a spot for you and the girls here you know. The idea of you in the dark is tearing at me some hard.”
“Mama, what can I do to make money?”
“Well, you’re an excellent seamstress. Your work on the inside is as fine as it is on the outside. You’ve always been a hard worker.” She paused for a moment, then reached for the paper and handed it to Frankie. “Maybe you could be a lady ship worker?”
Frankie looked carefully at the advertisement, then stared directly into Girtha’s troubled eyes. “Yes, mama. I think I can work in the yard, if you and daddy help me.”
She finally reached out to Girtha, who unhesitatingly scooped her daughter close to hold her as she wept silently in her mama’s arms.
Series Navigation
← Part 2 — Riding Down 82nd St
→ Part 4 — Shifting Foundations
