Child of the Sit-Downs_ The Revolutionary Life of Genora Dollinger - Carlton Jackson [43]
Women exulted in newfound freedoms as a result of World War II. Margaret Wright said, “When factory work opened up, it was like a Godsend. . . . [I] was earning pretty good money . . . [and] I thought that was so terrific that I had a Social Security Card,” and Lola Weixel exclaimed that “men had been telling us all along the line that oh, it takes six years to become a welder. . . . They had been sold a bill of goods in their lives, you see. It wasn’t true at all.”3 Despite these outpourings of jubilation at the “new woman” in 1945, the government, corporations, and even labor unions tried to put women back into their kitchens after the war. But the women would have none of it; they had had a taste of freedom, independence, and self-esteem, and they meant to keep it.
On the one hand, the war had brought an exhilaration to Genora, augmenting her role as feminist heroine in the sit-down of 1937. As women increasingly entered the workforce, they sought Genora’s opinions, for she was reckoned to be a leader who knew what to do. On the other hand, the war brought turbulence, loneliness, and tragedy to the young woman who had recently made labor history in Flint, Michigan.
After Sol got another merchant marine assignment in early 1942, Genora stayed for a time in Flint. Sol wanted her to come to New York to be near him, telling her that when she arrived, “we will be two happy Bolsheviks.”4 He still addressed his letters to G. G. Johnson, 1908 Ridge Street in Flint.5 Onboard ship during periodic voyages, Sol carried on the work of the SWP, talking to shipmates about the advantages of socialist solutions to world problems. He exulted in a letter to Genora that “I can tell all . . . my wife, too, is a Bolshevik! She is a leader in her own right. None can deny it and no one can take it away.”6
By May 1942 Sol was in Scotland. Addressing Genora as his “bonnie lassie,” he wrote to tell her that he probably would not be stateside until September or later.7 Genora wrote in the margin of this letter that “her plans were dashed at this moment.” She told Sol in September that “our anniversary [September 19, the date of their declaration of marriage] was both blue and happy.”8 Always one to air her feelings in poetry, Genora wrote,
Today I smiled, Today I sighed; Today I shed a tear; Today I laughed, Today I cried.
Today has been a year.9
She penned this remembrance of their declaration of marriage:
And then that day—that day of sighs; He held me in his arms.
Our vows exchanged, his lips met mine.
Last moments of his charm, He sailed away on oceans blue,
To gird the earth around. Through war and death and dangers grim;
Oh rush the day he’s homeward bound.10
She could, however, see a bit of humor in the situation:
Oh, Freud says this, And Freud says that. I know it all by heart.
When Sol comes back from off the seas I’ll demonstrate the part!11
Sol returned to Flint in late 1942. He had to spend a few weeks there to regain full use of his legs. His ship, the SS Olopana, had been sunk by a German submarine in the icy waters of Barents Sea, off the island of Novaya Zemlya, and he’d waited several hours in frigid waters before being rescued. With only seven hundred dollars in his pocket, he knew that he would not be able to support them through the winter. (Jarvis, or “Jody,” Genora’s youngest son, lived with her and Sol; Dennis, or “Denny,” stayed with Kermit.) Blacklisted in all the GM plants in Flint, employment for Genora in that city was out of the question. Moreover, GM had not converted all that quickly from automobile to defense production, so, ironically, a rather high rate of unemployment existed in Flint. Genora, Sol, and