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... OUR
"What we
love about...
BOY BILL"
He wasn't a
brain like his brother,.
Bob, who brought
a book even to the
beach, but he
was the most active
Boy Scout in the
neighborhood.
by Mom and Pop Campbell
■ Today, I am devoting to spring cleaning — the last spring cleaning I will do in my New Jersey home. In a few months, Dad Campbell and I will move out to California, where our sons Bill and Bob are building a home for us.
When we were in Hollywood last fall, Bill took me aside and said, "To heck with all the old furniture and bric-a-brac, Mom. Toss everything out. You won't need that stuff. Sell the house, throw a few duds into a trunk and come out. We'll take care of everything else."
That was a generous and easy thing for Bill to say. But hard for us to do. How can we throw away all the china and things that were wedding presents thirty-three years ago? Or all the mementos of our sons growing up?
For instance, here's Billy's first baby bonnet. His Grandma Campbell crocheted it for him and he wore it for the first time when he was six months old. Looking at it reminds me of all those visits to Grandma and how spoiled our baby son was when he came home.
He was the apple of his Grandma's eye, and his arrival there would be heralded as the coming of a national hero. Bill could do no wrong. If he knocked over the best lamp or gurgled over the new sofa, these were considered signs of genius. "That boy is going to be something big," Grandma would say, "you just wait and see." Our biggest regret was that she didn't live long enough to see her predictions all come true.
And we still have Bill's first "grown-up" suit. It was of silk pongee especially made for him by a friend of mine for Bill's second birthday. That day, I'll never forget. Dad and I had decided to have Bill's portrait taken every year until he grew up. But at age two, our son had different ideas. He didn't want his picture taken and that was that. He was angry and cranky and temperamental. We bribed him with toys until the photographer got a fast shot but on the way home I resolved "never again." If our son hated cameras so much, we'd just keep him away from them for good and save a lot of wear and tear on everyone's nerves.
Somewhere between age two and seven, however, Bill's attitude toward having his picture taken underwent a drastic — and permanent — change. In fact, the day he was supposed to pose for his first school portrait wild horses couldn't keep him away. We weren't as concerned about wild horses as we were about the slight fever he was running due to a bad boil on his nose — but boil or no boil, Bill wasn't going to miss school that day. He got up two hours earlier than usual in order to have plenty of time to spruce up! That was our {Continued on page 74)
When the Navy took our son away from us, we were both very downhearted, but when we heard that pretty Judy Inmoor was taking him for life, we were overjoyed.
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