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"We Adopted a Baby
(Continued from page 37)
said later, "because I thought I was through — in more ways than one." Still, fight he did, and he won, and there came a day when he could see people again.
"There's a girl downstairs," said the nurse one Sunday morning, "who has been here often to ask about you."
Who could it be? "Send for her," said Al.
The girl was Erie.
And some time later, in 1945, they were married, and Erie left pictures. "The Jolson Story" came out — and Al and his songs staged that mo.st phenomenal of "comebacks.
Soon they were talking about children.
"Erie," says Al, "is crazy about kids. Nuts about 'em, and so am I. I used to watch her with other people's kids. Why, I betcha if we hadn't found one of our own she'd be going into the baby-sitting business, just to be near kids."
They started looking. Adopting a child, even into a home that can give it all advantages, is no simple matter. But one day they heard about Asa, and Erie began shopping for baby things, even before they knew definitely that the child would be theirs.
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IHE suspense," Erie admits now, 'was terrific. I don't believe we could have stood it if anything had gone wrong."
But one day they could take Asa home, theirs, to their place in Palm Springs, with a nurse approved by the adoption authorities. Everything was waiting, the bassinet, the soft blankets, the bottles, the sterilizers, the traditional tiny garments and those all-important square ones, and all the other mysterious adjuncts to modern baby care. Nothing fancy, though. The quiet, competent Erie knows that babies have no use for frilly laces, however much these may intrigue a mamma.
They installed Asa in the little home's one spare bedroom, and Al plugged in his own desert-air lamp to make sure the atmosphere was just right.
"Lookit him, honey, lookit him!" said Al, peeking into the bassinet where Asa slept angelically. "What a* kick, what a sweetheart! Makes you want to sing, or cry, or something!"
"The sweet!" said Erie, along with other mamma-noises.
So the Jolsons found their "Sonny Boy."
Here's the place to describe what a cherub Asa is, blue-eyed, with a little soft fuzz on his head, and that invisible halo, familiar to all parents. Sure, he's a cherub. But he's no sissy. He's an independent little codger, with a mind of his own. Cute, of course, probably (in his parents' unprejudiced opinion) the cutest baby ever. But he reserves the normal baby's rights of self-expression, and he can geyser his milk on occasion as effectively as anybody's little darling.
He can also make the welkin clang, with a voice that does his Pappy proud, and he'll practice his yodeling at night, when he feels like it, as heartily as if the sun were shining. This bothers, the Jolsons not in the least — Erie is one of those rare mothers who actually enjoys the nurse's day off because then she can do everything for the baby (Continued on page 84)
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