Resurrected Skills and

There are many things I remember about my year at Katie Gibbs despite the decades that have intervened.

And the, oh so many lessons I learned in those days between September 1947 until May 1948 when I certified. Admittedly, Gibbs was not my school of choice,

I yearned to be a writer and learn the fundamentals at one of the excellent and free institutions of learning then available in NYC. My marks qualified but that did not matter. In the dominant and inherited culture of Hells Kitchen where I lived, young women were destined to become secretaries or nurses or enter a convent,

Since I tremble with a paper cut and no reputable convent would have welcomed me that left secretary. My good but determined Mother was adamant that would be my future, and was aghast I dared to consider anything else.

However, somehow I learned of the sterling reputation of Katie Gibbs. I also knew if I had to be a secretary, I wanted to be the very best and that is what Katie Gibbs promised.

It took many tears and angry words and finally the intervention of my gentle Dad before I was allowed to even take the entrance exam.

And more tears flowed when the letter of acceptance arrived. Katie Gibbs was costly for a family in Hells Kitchen and not an easy financial decision for my family to make.

But they did, and I, a lifetime later, am still grateful. Not because of the skills I learned at a typewriter or holding a pencil and recording another’s words in shorthand, but the invisible and far more important lessons that have remained firmly entrenched as time has moved on with determination.

I remember the edict, “Maintain poise.” It was easy then, far harder now as age limits not only mobility but threatens self confidence.

The two word mandate jumps to mind as I maneuver a walker (which I loathe but need) on an elevated curb. The phrase is resurrected if I clumsily attempt to carry more than one item at a time and a Good Samaritan comes to my rescue.

I repeated the words to myself on a never forgotten journey to Caracas 48 hours before another Thanksgiving. I was traveling alone to a country where I could not speak their language after being notified of my husband’s sudden heart attack and hospitalization. The recalled mantra hid my subnerged terror about not knowing ny husband’s condition.

And the resurrected typing skills years later made it possible for me to enter the computer world, have a byline, write 12 books and open new challenges that always resurrect the reminder to “Maintain poise,”

I am so glad I knew you, Katie.