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THE MILLER FAMILY
(Florida)
In a modern three room apartment on
Miami Beach in a building located near the main street and the ocean,
lives the Miller family. There are four floors to the building and the
Millers live on the third one. The place is always quiet, with only the
noise of automobiles passing by. Palm trees shade the narrow lawn in front
of the building. The other buildings in the block are quite similar to the
one I enter. Most of them have lawns equipped with lawn chairs and large,
brightly colored sun umbrellas. The chairs are usually occupied because
the people who live in these houses have plenty of leisure hours to spend
in such fashion. There is an atmosphere of contentment and restfulness
everywhere.
As I open the screen door I enter a small lobby, furnished with easy
chairs, tables, and reading lamps. Placed conveniently near the chairs are
smoking stands for the use of the tenants, and the newest magazines are on
the tables. I pass through the lobby and to the left find the stairs
leading to the floors above. I climb two flights of well carpeted stairs,
and knock on the door at my left.
Entering the front door, I come directly into the dining room, a very
small, cozy one, almost a breakfast nook, equipped with a small table
placed in the middle of the room, and four chairs. In the center of the
table a potted plant or bowl of flowers is usually placed on a crocheted
center cloth, made by the wife. The floor is stained a light color, and a
figured linoleum extends into the kitchen, which is separated from the
dining room only by an arched opening. All the walls are painted a light
cream and have several fruit prints hanging on them.
The tiny kitchen has a built-in sink, drainboard and cupboard extending
almost the entire length of one side. On the opposite side is a porcelain,
four-burner gas stove with oven, and an electric refrigerator. There is
one window in the room, at the far end, which is hung with a green checked
cotton curtain.
At the right of the front door is the entrance to a spacious living room
and bed room combined. The room is bright and airy, always cool. To the
left of the door is a green covered studio couch. Two easy chairs, one
upholstered in green, the other in brown, make one desire to sit down and
rest immediately. Near one of the chairs is a floor lamp, providing an
ideal spot for reading. On a table next to the wall is a radio, and on
either side large, life-like, tinted photographs of the two members of the
Miller family. The bed is the in-a-door type, commonly called a Murphy
bed. When it is made for the day, the room is at once a comfortable living
room again. The two windows at the left have ecru colored lace curtains,
with draperies of the same color at either side. A rug with a green
background covers the floor.
A door at the left, as I enter the dining room, leads into the bathroom,
furnished in a color scheme of orchid and green. The floor is tiled and
there is a tub and shower, with plenty of hot water. A green rag rug to
spread in front of the lavatory, and a built-in medicine cabinet is above
it. The entire house is always neat and immaculately clean, giving one the
impression that it has just been swept and dusted. It fits the people who
live in it, they are so clean and neat, too.
Hazel Miller, the wife is a tall, stately person, with long, blonde,
permanently waved hair, hanging loose on her shoulders, beautiful brown
eyes and a clear, smooth complexion. She is a trifle above normal weight,
but by means of active sports keeps her weight down as much as possible.
She is always cheerful and ready to go anywhere that promises
entertainment. Most of the time she wears slacks, or shorts, the typical
day-time dress of this beach resort. When Hazel dresses to go out she is a
stunning looking person. Her well tailored sports clothes that she usually
wears, fit well. She always looks well groomed, although her clothes may
not be new. Her nails are seldom painted, because she dislikes bright
finger nail polish on them.
Bob Miller, the husband, is six feet tall, a blonde with blue eyes, and he
has a very low, pleasant voice, indicating culture. He is 32 years old and
makes a comfortable living by his chosen profession, art. He and Hazel
have been married a little more than five years, and are very happy
together.
"How are you today?" I inquire, as Hazel invites me to enter.
"Fine," replies Hazel. "Bob isn't at home, he went to see a man about
painting a picture in his hotel. This time of year is the busiest for him
and he is gone most of the time." It is a warm, sunshiny day and Hazel
feels the urge to take a sun bath. "How would you like to go down to the
beach for a while?"
She provides a bathing suit for me and after donning them, we walk the
three blocks to the beach.
"Last night Bob and I went to the show," continues Hazel. "We very seldom
go out but Bob didn't work last night so we decided to spend the evening
by taking in a movie. We saw Spencer Tracy in Boy's Town and it surely was
good. Both of us like him very much. Bob likes to see the Dead End boys
play, too, and never misses a picture they play in if he can help it. I
like to go to the show, but, of course, you know I prefer something with
more action and exercise than you can get at shows. They are too tame for
me. I play baseball nearly every Wednesday night, badminton two nights a
week, and basketball once a week. Every afternoon I go over to the park
and play tennis a couple of hours. That keeps my weight down and I have to
do something all the time so I won't get too fat. Bob says when he was
young, fat girls chased him and he had a horror of them, and here he has
married one.
"If we could only have our own home it would take more of my time to keep
house. As it is, I have the apartment all cleaned in two or three hours,
with too much time on my hands. I would like more than anything to have
two children, a boy and a girl, but Bob doesn't want any. He says he can
easily take care of the two of us, but if we had any children, he would be
tied down too much. He wants to be able to pack his clothes and leave any
time he takes the notion. Of course, you can't do that way with children,
so he is set on not having any. If I could only persuade him to buy a
home, then we could soon get it paid for and settle down for good. If I
could once get the home, I think after awhile he would be willing for us
to have two children. I don't believe in having them if you can't take
care of them properly and give them the advantages of a good education and
a happy childhood, but I feel that we could do that without any trouble.
"I am the only child in my family and I am 27 years old. When I was
fourteen, my father died. He left us a home but no ready cash so my mother
started giving dancing lessons to take care of us. After a while my mother
met Mr. Atkins, and they got married. He is a contractor, and a very
wealthy one, too. I got married not long after they did so don't know him
very well. For two years Bob and I lived in the northern part of the
state, but three years ago Bob decided he would get more work to do if he
came to Miami, so we moved here.
"Bob has two brothers and two sisters, and he is the oldest. He is quite
proud of his ancestry, too, especially the artistic ones. His grandmother
on his mother's side was a short-story writer. She wrote some of the most
weird stories I have ever read. All of Bob's people are from the North.
His father played around with machinery as a hobby, and has made some very
valuable inventions, although they were never patented. He used to be an
airplane test pilot, too. One day he was supposed to go up in a plane, but
when it started to take off, he suddenly decided he wouldn't go up this
time. He said he had a funny feeling he shouldn't. So another pilot took
the plane up. It crashed and the pilot was killed instantly. Bob's father
died right after we got married and we surely did miss him. Everbody was
crazy about him.
"Bob's mother is a very fine music teacher. She plays nothing but
classical music and for many years she added to the family income by
teaching. She graduated from high school when she was sixteen years old,
went to college two years, and started teaching French in a high school in
Massachusetts when she was eighteen. She has accompanied several of the
outstanding radio stars of today.
"Bob is restless here and wants to go back North because he thinks he can
make more money there and I think so, too, but we don't have the money
ahead to leave here now. He makes about $2,500 a year down here, but the
work only lasts about six months of the year. We have to budget ourselves
so this will last a whole year and that's hard to do. It's so easy to
spend it when you have it and I guess we are not as foresighted as we
should be. I suppose that should be enough for us but we have just
finished paying for our car, and I am glad it is our own now. Bob has to
have a car in his business so we bought a good one while we were at it.
Besides, a Chrysler has always been his favorite of all cars. Out of this
$2,500 we have to pay rent, which is a big problem here in the winter
especially, light and gas bills, buy groceries and clothes. We feel that
we must have a nice apartment at a good address but sometimes during the
summer we are so broke, I'd like to have some of the rent money in other
things."
At this point Hazel and I decided we
had had enough sun so we gathered our belongings together and returned
home.
"Where did Bob go to school?" I ask.
"He graduated from high school up North. His father and mother liked to
travel and they came to Florida nearly every winter. Of course, all the
children had to be taken out of school there and started in down here. Bob
says he really got his education from practical experience. His great
ambition and desire has always been to be a second Rembrandt or Rockwell,
so he has studied art all of his life. He says that every night for years
he sat up until three or four o'clock in the morning reading books on art
and making sketches. Bob never attended any art school or took any
lessons. All be knows he has learned by himself for his parents never
really helped him but he set his head and nothing could stop him. A friend
of his, an old man who is also an artist, was very much interested in him
and encouraged him to keep at it.
"I graduated from high school myself but didn't go to college. When I was
twenty years old, I got married instead. I have traveled quite a bit and
have been all over the North. We lived up North some when my father was
living, but I met Bob in Florida. He is a born artist and some day I
believe he will really be famous. He is proud of his work and I am, too.
Unlike most other artists, if his work is slack and he can get something
to do in another line, he won't take it. He will wait until something in
his line comes up, regardless of how badly we need the money.
"Lots of times when Bob is at work I sit home and read or sew. I have a
library card and get books from the library here at the beach. Then I read
magazines, too. I always buy the Life magazine because Bob uses pictures
out of it in his work. And I keep up with all the gossip about the movie
stars, too. Bob is too serious minded and ambitious to spend much time
reading books of that sort. He always reads books on art or mythology, or
some such subject.
Sometimes he reads detective magazines, but usually he spends his time
reading books that will teach him something and do him some good.
"Bob doesn't like to go out much when he is working but spends his leisure
hours at home reading a book or sketching. We go more in the summer time
when he doesn't have much work to do. Sometimes he plays tennis, his
favorite out-door sport, and he likes to go swimming, if the water is
rough. When we go out at night, sometimes we go bowling, play miniature
golf or some other game. One of Bob's favorite sports is sailing and he
wants a sailboat about as much as anything else. He used to own one and he
says some day he is going to get another one. I suppose we should save
some of the money we spend on good times, but we both like to go out so
much that it is hard to do.
"Bob is interested in sculpturing, too. He makes a hobby out of this,
although he has designed one or two statues and made models of them, which
he has sold. In fact, his whole life is centered around art of one form or
another. He sees art in everything, but he doesn't paint portraits much.
One or two people have asked him to paint theirs but somehow that isn't in
his line. He just finished an oil painting for a friend in New York. This
friend in a tailor and in return for the picture he sent Bob a tailor-made
gray suit and for Christmas he sent me a tan one.
"I like to crochet. For Christmas presents, I made five crocheted
pocketbooks for my family and friends. Sometimes my eyes bother me and I
have to stop. I really need new glasses; mine are broken, but I don't have
the money to get them right now. And I hate to put them on, too. They are
such a bother and so unbecoming to me. I have just finished making an
afghan that I think is very pretty. These chair-back sets on the chairs I
crocheted too. Several of the pieces you see on the tables I made.
Sometimes I embroider but I don't really care for that much.
"Even though we don't have any children, we had a cat we called our child.
His name was Tabby. He was just a plain cat but unusually large. Bob and I
got him right after we were married and both of us had become very
attached to him. We called him Mutt most of the time. I bought special
food for him and never fed him anything I wouldn't eat myself. There was
one special chair he liked to sleep in, so I made a cover for it and he
spent lots of his time in it. On Christmas I always gave him a present,
the same as I would a person. But a couple of weeks ago he got sick and we
took him to the doctor. He finally told us there was nothing he could do
for the Mutt. I don't know what was wrong with him, but the doctor said
the only thing to do was put him to sleep. So now our Mutt is gone and we
have made a resolution not to have any more pets, we become too much
attached to them. Bob petted Mutt so much and he misses him as much as I
do. Guess it's the thwarted parental instinct in both of us. Everywhere we
turn we see things to remind us of him, and then we realize that he is
gone for good." The tears start streaming down Hazel's cheeks and I
realize how much they did love the cat, as much as if it were a human
being.
In order to get Hazel's mind off of her sorrow, I ask, "Do you like to
cook? What kind of foods do you eat?"
"Because of the climate down here, we eat lots of cold salads and meats,
too. I studied all about diet when I went to school and can cook good
meals when I want to but I had rather play tennis, or basketball than mess
around in the kitchen. Bob likes potatoes and has to have them for dinner
all the time, and I suppose his next favorite dish is soup -- any kind. He
just loves it. We like sea foods a lot, too, especially shrimp. Sometimes
I get ambitious and bake cakes, just when I take the notion I want to
cook. We eat lots of fruits and make orange juice quite often. They are
good for you. Lots of times I have to wait and wait for Bob to come home
from work so we can't have regular hours to eat."
"Do you go to church regularly?" I asked.
"No, I surely don't. I've never joined one. Bob's people are all Catholics
but he doesn't go to church either. He has one sister who is a devout
Catholic. But I just never did care about going to church myself. There
are certain morals I live up to but I don't believe it's necessary to go
to church to live right. We don't drink and do all those kind of things
because we don't like to. Bob has his own friends and I have mine. We have
to have separate interests because Bob is away at work so much of the
time.
"Bob is a very independent person. When he is bidding for a job he sticks
to his original price, regardless of whether someone else bids lower or
how badly he needs it. And he usually gets the job. He says he puts into a
picture exactly what he is paid for it, no more, no less. For an artist,
he has a lot of business sense and can drive a good bargain.
"A year ago last Christmas Bob and I took our first airplane trip. We went
to Jacksonville so we could be with our families. That was one of the
things we had always wanted to do most. It cost lots of money and we paid
double for it all last summer when work was so scarce. But the trip was so
pleasant, we were there almost before we knew it. It took just a little
more than three hours to make the trip. Flying is one thing we both like
and we are trying to save enough now to take a long plane trip. If I can't
have a home and family, we might as well use our money to fly where we
want to."
"Hazel, do you like to work out?" I ask.
"Yes, I do. I have been thinking lately about getting a job. Before I got
married I worked in an office and I worked in a large hotel on the beach
two years ago when Bob didn't have any work and we were broke. But Bob
doesn't like for me to work. He says I can work when he gets to the point
where he can't, so I just haven't tried very much to get a job. I would
love to work at the ball park teaching some kind of sport, I like sports
so well."
"Do you vote?" I ask.
"I don't know a thing about politics. I think one politician is as dirty
as another, so I just don't care to vote for any of them. Bob doesn't vote
either. We are both Democrats and we read the paper every day. President
Roosevelt has been a good president, and has really done his best to help
the country. But as far as voting is concerned, it doesn't interest me at
all."
"How is the foot you sprained?" I ask.
"Oh, it's all right now," Hazel replies. "It seems like every time I turn
around lately I get hurt playing ball. I was playing tennis the other day
and a girl hit me right under my right eye with her racket." She shows me
her eyes, which is still a little swollen and blue. "It's almost well now
but it surely was sore for two or three days. It was swollen so badly I
could hardly see, and I was even afraid to play tennis for a few days, it
hurt so much. But that is about all I have to worry about as far as
sickness to concerned. Bob is healthy as can be. He had a bad cold the
first of the winter but I doctored that with Vicks and he got alright. We
don't have to spend much for doctor bills. They are the least of my
worries."
"Well, Hazel, I must be going now," I say, as it is getting late.
"Hurry back to see me and we will go for another swim," says Hazel, as I
walk to the door.
FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT
Miami, Florida
3,500 Words
February 15, 1939
The Lapham Family (White)
1008 Jefferson Ave.
Miami Beach, Florida
Artist
Dorothy Wood, Writer
Text from: Library of
Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers' Project Collection
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