With a furnished apartment waiting for them, the transition to Portland proved easy. They lived only a few blocks from the Portland State College campus. Greg's office was across the Willamette River at Lloyd Center, but was only a short bus ride away - or a nice, moderate distance walk, when he had the time, and cooperating weather. Occasionally, he had to go out of town on business, but seldom more than two or three nights at a time. They were pretty close to having Greg's and Vic's dream of being "every night" husband and wife.
Transferring their academic credits from Idaho had gone smoothly for both Vic and Mandy, as had registration and course selection. They had to pay a rather hefty out-of-state tuition the first semester (the parents helped), but establishing Oregon residency required only six months, so they were full-fledged Oregonians by their second term.
Vic's academic goals had gelled to pursuing a mixed degree in political science and American history. Mandy had kept on with her art classes, but was concentrating on English - particularly American literature, probably heading for some sort of teaching degree.
***
BRIEF INTERLUDE: Now, up to this point, I've served merely as the narrator of the Vic, Greg and Mandy story. Shortly, I will become a member of the cast, so to speak, so I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Daniel Cox Rafferty, son of Richard Rafferty and Jeanette Cox. I was born June 15, 1941 in Oregon City, Oregon, just a little way south of Portland, on the Willamette River. Rafferty sounds like a good strong Scottish name, and I suppose that somewhere deep in my genealogy there were some actual good, strong Scots. However, my particular line of Raffertys were in North America by the early 1700s, and in the 300-plus years since they arrived, many other families from many other parts of the world have joined their branches to the "family tree." Even before my arrival on the scene, my relatives were referring to themselves not as Scots, but by the slogan of the Heinz catsup manufacturers - "57 varieties."
Besides claiming to be a "Native Oregonian" by virtue of my birthplace, my great great grandparents brought their entire family by covered wagon from Iowa in 1852, settling near present-day Oregon City. Only a few of their descendants ever lived more than 100 miles from Portland. Oregon became a state in 1859, so some of my relatives were probably movers and shakers in that early period. However, I don't know much about them.
Both my parents were teachers, mainly of English - the language and the literature - at various times in both high schools and college. I was an only child, and since my father and mother were both primarily indoor people, I grew up with a strong attachment to books, libraries, and research projects. It was probably inevitable that I would end up with Bachelor's and Master's degrees in English, and would in 1968 be working on a Ph. D. in the same subject.
***
NOW, BACK TO THE STORY: In the fall and winter of 1968, I was hard at work on my doctoral dissertation. To take an occasional break from that stress, and from what was often just sheer drudgery, I used to help one of my mentors in his classes. I wasn't really a teaching assistant at that point - really just a volunteer, helping out a friend. I'd often sit in while he taught, help him grade papers, serve as a general sounding board as he discussed his various students, and occasionally teach a class when he had something else he needed to do. It was in one of his classes that I first saw Mandy.
Anyone who has ever been to college (in any capacity) knows that they are the haven of hundreds - sometimes, thousands - of pretty coeds. You get used to the plethora of riches but, even for someone like me who was far from "a lady's man," there are some that require a second glance. Mandy deserved a third, and then a fourth. She got them from me. She was a beauty!
***
Now, here let me break into my narrative for a bit, and talk about beauty. Greg insisted that Vic was the most beautiful woman in the world - even when she was nineteen, and hadn't yet reached that point at which most people achieve their finest, fully matured looks. Vic liked him to say it, but she also insisted that "it was love talking." Of course, it was. Yet, there was something about her - and about Mandy, who was almost her twin except for their hair color - that set them apart. Where another woman might be called pretty - or even beautiful - they conjured up words like glorious, or - one of Mandy's favorite words, borrowed from Greg, I think - smashing. There was something extra special about them that embraced their obvious good looks, but also the character and personality that went with them.
Greg told me once that he was a person-ality man. He meant that he had never been one to dwell long on busts or tresses or legs or even a pretty face - although I know he had an unabashed admiration of shapely gams. Still, he said what had always attracted him to a woman was a combination of looks and what he called "life" - animation, glow, realness. That was an excellent description of Mandy and Vic.
***
Okay, getting back to the story, I was enchanted by Mandy, and undoubtedly glanced her way more than I should have. I had no thought of following up my smitten-ness because, like any young man who hasn't had a lot of experience with glorious womanhood might have done, early on I decided she was "out of my league." Still, as I read the papers she wrote, and watched her speak in class, I began to realize there was a lot more there than just a beautiful young woman, and that maybe her league and my league were not that different.
If I had been her professor, or maybe even a real teaching assistant, I might have considered any possible relationship with her to be inappropriate. Because I was really just a volunteer-private citizen, I eventually got up the nerve to ask if she'd like to meet for coffee, sometime. I thought I knew her well enough by then that her refusal would be graceful and charming, and that she wouldn't squash me like a bug for thinking she would be interested in someone like me. When she said yes, without the slightest hint of hesitation, I was amazed and unbelievably elated.
We had regular coffee dates after the first one, and she proved to be everything I thought and hoped she would be. The feelings seemed to be mutual. It wasn't long before I met Vic, and was as charmed with her as I was with her sister. Soon after that, Mandy invited me to dinner - pizza, as I recall - at their apartment, and it was then that I met Greg.
At first, I thought that Greg and I were quite different, and wouldn't share many interests beyond the Anderson girls, themselves. After all, Greg was an outdoor person, whose career was all about wildlife, and who liked to bird-watch and backpack and camp. I like to occasionally camp out and go on hikes, and I even fish on occasions, but as I already said, I am really an indoor person. I soon discovered there was a lot more to Greg than I knew about, and that our mutual interests in literature, music, and society in general proved to be much more important than any outdoor incompatibilities. We shared a lot of discussions on things like Roman and Greek drama and poetry, and books of all kinds, and had some pretty exciting and sometimes pretty heated discussions on politics, religion, and life in all its forms.
I remember there was some family joke about Greek poetry - maybe Pindar? I can't recall the details, but it seems like it had something to do with what they were going to name their children. (They ended up calling them Charles - "Charlie," after Mandy's and Vic's dad - and Alice Amanda, after her aunt and grandmother. Alice Amanda was always "Allie" to her friends. She was always "Mandy Jr." to Vic and Greg.)
This is getting a little ahead of the narrative, but it's a "true confession." When Mandy and I started dating, I felt a little awkward because I saw that she was really close to Greg. Well, not "close," in any physical sense, but - in a lot of ways - she, Vic and Greg had their own close family relationship. (I'm embarrassed to say that I even wondered if, them being in Idaho for so long, some Mormon influences had rubbed off on them!} As I got to know them all, and as Mandy and Vic explained some things to me, I began to understand the dynamics.
Greg was really the first adult male (other than her father) that Mandy had known. She idolized him for the way he treated her sister. She didn't know how to put it in words, but she saw that - to Greg - Vic was a unique entity. She wasn't like anybody else in the world - she was Vic - and she shouldn't be treated in any standard, one-size-fits-all way you might treat a daughter or girl friend or fiancé or wife. He didn't seem to ever plan anything, or try to cater to any particular need or whim of hers. He just seemed to always be in tune with her, some way.
Well, as I said, she found it hard to explain, and I'm finding it hard to explain her explanation. The thing that really got her is that he did the same thing with her. She wasn't Vic's sister to him, or not primarily. She was the one and only, unique "Mandy." I can't put it in words, either, but I saw it myself.
Early on, Mandy had a real crush on Greg. Vic knew about it, and they had talked it through. There was never any jealousy or confusion about the situation. They were so close as sisters, that Vic felt it was inevitable that they would be drawn to the same man. Over time, the "crush" changed to just a strong love for her "big brother." She did tend to measure every young man she met or dated against Greg. She didn't want a Greg twin, or a Greg clone, but she found herself looking for someone who seemed to "get her" the way Greg did. In early returns, she had found everyone wanting.
Some years later, Mandy and I were talking about our life together. She leaned against me, and whispered, "You're my Greg." I was - and am! - happy and proud to be thought of that way.
***
Well, after those little flights of fancy, back to Portland, Oregon, in the late 1960s. We all loved it! It was a "big city," and yet it wasn't. It must have been close to 50 miles east to west across the "metro" area, but "downtown" on one side of the Willamette River, and Lloyd Center on the other had just about anything a person could want - and most of it within walking distance. There were more shops and restaurants than one could shake a stick at. (This could be a little dangerous for those with limited wallet content, but all four of us were pretty frugal and controlled by nature.)
If Broadway shows came to town, they were often just a few blocks from the college. It was the same with "rock stars" and other musicians - just down the street! In addition to the college libraries, we had a huge public library, and also an art museum and a historical society museum. If you had to drive somewhere, there was always easy parking. We had an "international" airport - which sounds busy - but you could leave your home in just about any part of the metro area, and be on your plane and in the air within an hour, or maybe slightly more. (Greg loved this, as he frequently had to make short trips out of town.)
The weather was also a nice surprise for the Idahoans. Portland has a reputation for being rainy, and it is, but the annual rainfall is less than some "dry" places like Atlanta, Georgia. It can be gray for much of the winter, but at the end of a day, you'll only find a tenth of an inch of water in your rain gauge. A 24-hour period with as much as an inch of rain is unusual. A winter temperature of 20 degrees is very cold for Portland, and most winters get nowhere that. Some winters get no snow at all and, when it does fall, it is seldom more than a few inches at a time. Summers are gloriously warm and sunny. In short, at no time of the year does the weather stop people from whatever they want to do - at least, not for longer than a day or two.
We made good use of that weather. We hiked around the waterfalls in the Columbia Gorge all winter, with no tourists crowding the trails - only a few other intrepid "Webfeet" like ourselves. We camped and explored the Cascades in summer - although Greg found them a little "tame" compared to his High Sierra. (He did like them a little farther north, in Washington State around Mt. Rainier.) And, at any time of year, the ocean - Vic's favorite place - was less than two hours away. We spent sunny days and stormy days beach-combing, hiking, camping, watching the gray whales swim by, or just looking out at the vast expanse. It was a very good time for all of us.
I should explain a little about my living situation at that time. Our "family home," where my parents continued to live, was not far from the college. I could easily - and more cheaply! - have lived at home. However, even before Greg and the girls came to town, I had opted for a rental apartment of my own, where I could spread out and be an academic on my own terms. (That really was the reason. I wasn't a "party animal" and wasn't looking for a place to bring girls!) As it turned out, the rooms Greg found for them were only a block from me.
In those first two years, we all had our busy times, but everything was going well. Greg liked his job. There were obvious frustrations in office work for "the Government," complicated sometimes by the fact that he was dealing with some brand new programs, exhibiting lots of "growing pains." Still, the challenges exceeded the problems, and he felt he was both learning a lot and contributing a lot.
Vic got her degree in June 1969. She didn't want to be a lawyer, or go on for any advanced degree, but she wanted to learn as much as she could about the basics of both civil rights law and environmental law. Therefore, in 1969 and 1970, she audited several courses at Portland State and at nearby Lewis and Clark College. She made liberal use of both the college libraries and the public library to pursue a number of issues that she and Greg were interested in.
Mandy finished her courses in June 1970, about the same time I was finally completing - and defending! - my doctorate. She and I had gotten "close" during that time, but enough was going on - mostly with me - that - romantically, physically - we were still in the kissing and hand-holding stage. She had been in and out of my apartment many times, so it wasn't surprising to see her there. What was surprising - and amazingly nice! - was one afternoon halfway through her Senior year, to find ourselves together in my bed. It was uncalculated on either of our parts, but after that, it kept happening regularly. She moved in with me.
***
I was always a little amazed at how Greg and Vic could grab onto a story, and never forget it. Once they decided they were interested in something, they just stayed interested. I was thinking of this in early 1969, when the four of us were gathering (as we often were) at their apartment, after work and school. Mandy and I had arrived first, then Greg had come home from work. Vic was a little later than usual. When she came in, she seemed flushed and excited.
"Greg, they won!"
That, of course, meant nothing to me. It wasn't football season, and we weren't following any other sports very closely. Mandy was interested, but clueless, as was Greg, initially. He gave Vic an interested, inquiring look.
"The Des Moines kids. The Supreme Court ruled in favor of them!"
That seemed to mean a little to Mandy, and a lot to Greg. "What did you hear, Vic?" he asked.
She collapsed on the couch next to him. She took a deep breath. "On February 24, the Supreme Court, by a vote of 7 to 2, said - and I think I remember their exact words: "Students do not shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate.”
Greg clapped his hands. "That is fantastic, and about time!"
"I think I remember this," said Mandy. "I was still in high school, wasn't I?"
All three of them started to talk at once. I intervened. "Okay, guys, this is all news to me. What are you talking about?"
"Sorry," Greg apologized. "As Mandy suggested, this is something we've been following for a long time." Then, he gave me the highlights of a long, long civil rights-free speech case they had become interested in at Christmas time in 1965. Several Des Moines, Iowa, students had planned to wear black armbands to school - not to protest the Vietnam war, or the Government policy, but just to honor the dead on both sides of the conflict, and to support a proposed armistice. The school board heard about the plan and decided, even before anything had occurred, that if the students wore armbands, they would be expelled. Some of the students did wear the armbands, and were sent home. Later, they gave in, and came back to school without the armbands, but with their parents' help, sued the school board over their First Amendment rights of free speech. The American Civil Liberties Union helped with the case.
In September 1966, a district court judge ruled against the students, merely stating that the school board had to be able to control disruptive possibilities. The case was referred to a Court of Appeals. It took until 1967 for the next opinion, again supporting the school board action, but with a 4 to 4 vote. The case was then referred to the U. S. Supreme Court, but it was March 1968 before the Chief Justice agreed to consider it, and another year before they gave their decision.
"And that decision," said Vic, "Is what I just quoted to you. The Supreme Court was almost unanimous that the students' right to free speech had been violated. Here, I made a copy of the opinion. Let me read a little bit of it. It's pretty great.
"Here's one statement: 'The school officials banned and sought to punish petitioners for a silent, passive expression of opinion, unaccompanied by any disorder or disturbance on the part of petitioners. There is here no evidence whatever of petitioners' interference, actual or nascent, with the schools' work or of collision with the rights of other students to be secure and to be let alone. Accordingly, this case does not concern speech or action that intrudes upon the work of the schools or the rights of other students.'
"This one is good, too: 'Only a few of the 18,000 students in the school system wore the black armbands. Only five students were suspended for wearing them. There is no indication that the work of the schools or any class was disrupted. Outside the classrooms, a few students made hostile remarks to the children wearing armbands, but there were no threats or acts of violence on school premises.'
"There's a lot more really good stuff, but I'll just read these last bits, which are the real meat, I think. 'The District Court concluded that the action of the school authorities was reasonable because it was based upon their fear of a disturbance from the wearing of the armbands. But, in our system, undifferentiated fear or apprehension of disturbance is not enough to overcome the right to freedom of expression. Any departure from absolute regimentation may cause trouble. Any variation from the majority's opinion may inspire fear. Any word spoken, in class, in the lunchroom, or on the campus, that deviates from the views of another person may start an argument or cause a disturbance. But our Constitution says we must take this risk, and our history says that it is this sort of hazardous freedom—this kind of openness—that is the basis of our national strength and of the independence and vigor of Americans who grow up and live in this relatively permissive, often disputations, society.'
"I love that last part!"
"I do, too," Greg exclaimed. "That's a long time to wait for what seems to me a pretty simple issue. It does restore a little of my faith in our courts."
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