Stories from Del Mar
March 4, 2024
The servers whirled by with trays of gin and tonics and cold glasses of champagne. The Lester Lanin-type band played lively music to which young and old danced the fox trot, waltz, and Charleston. The mood was light on the North Shore of Massachusetts in 1961. So why was I there? I was at a Debutante party, one of many being held during the summer of that year. Being a preppy, I was on a list, and I went to some of these parties in a tuxedo with a Madras tie and cummerbund.
Deb parties had a long history of events in which young women were introduced to society and potential suitors. They were called coming out parties, a term used differently today. Do these Deb parties still exist? I don’t know.
So why was I thinking about this past part of my life? I recently was measured for a made-to-order tuxedo at Nordstrom’s store in University Town Center. Luis and Danielle were the staff working with me, and they made the process fun and exciting. The suit would arrive a month later, and I would return to the store for alterations.
Why a tuxedo now? Vicki and I were to travel to Boston to attend the wedding of her cousin Matt Nardella, a financier in New York City, and Gillian Reny, a graduate student in organizational psychology. Gillian became a nationally known figure after she and her mother were seriously wounded at the hands of the Boston Marathon bombers. She made a courageous recovery from near death to attending college and running once again. She became a national spokesperson for the Trauma Unit that her family raised money to open at a Boston hospital. She and her family turned tragedy into victory.
Shout out to Gillian and for you David for reminding us. Triggers lots of memories.
I was there as a spectator with my daughter Marissa, who was scheduled to run with her running coach, Lisa. Marissa was sidelined due to an injury that occurred 2 weeks before during her training. We were cheering on Lisa about a mile or so out from the finish line. We did not know why at the time that Lisa, along with several other runners, were stopped just short of the finish line by officials. We found out a bit later as Marissa & I went to meet Lisa near our pre-arranged place nearby the finish line. We never met. We got a call from Lisa's father, a marathoner himself and now a volunteer at the Marathon, that Lisa was safe. That's all he would say. We did not know at the time what had transpired. We were directed to leave the area and listened, in silence and in fear, to the ominous live accounts as they were unfolding. Your stories, David, keeps these memories close, for which I am grateful. We can, and will, never forget.
Inspirational!