Editor: The following is an excerpt from Walter Linder’s labor union memoir, A Life of Labor and Love / A Red Memoir. When I reached my early twenties, I was convinced I was too shy to ever get married. Although I had gone out on dates with various women, nothing had clicked. At 24, I […]

Editor: The following is an excerpt from Walter Linder’s labor union memoir, A Life of Labor and Love / A Red Memoir.

When I reached my early twenties, I was convinced I was too shy to ever get married. Although I had gone out on dates with various women, nothing had clicked. At 24, I began seeing a young woman named Charlotte. We went out for about a year but I sensed something was not quite right. I wasn’t meeting my wife!

“Wally, I could never marry someone who doesn’t dance,” she said — leading my sister June to advise that such superficiality was not for me.

“Forget her.” (Good advice. As it turned out, the three women with whom I was to spend the next six decades of my life — Esther, Toni and Vera — were all terrific dancers.)

During that year, Gladys, a comrade from my CP railroad section asked me if I had a girlfriend.

“Yes,” I replied, but “it doesn’t seem to be going anyplace.”

“Well,” said Gladys, “if you break it off with her, I’ve got the girl for you.”

“A blind date?” I said.

“Why not?” she answered. [Free Membership required to read more. See below. ]