By Danna Shirley
Writing assignment: take an old photograph and write a story...
When I learned I had an Aunt Rose in my bloodline, and that she smoked and drank, and lived through the ‘Gay 90s’…that’s the 1890s, not the 1990s… I just had to learn more about her. There were only a few relatives still living who had even heard her story passed down through the years so I set out on my quest before they, too, would be gone.
Great-Uncle Roscoe told me Auntie Rose, was quite a scamp. Of course, growing up in San Francisco was a lot different than growing up in a little house on the prairie. She was born into a prominent family living on Nob Hill, one of the wealthiest areas of the city, and didn’t like it one little bit to be under her father’s thumb or confined to the culture of the day. Her tomboy attitude and inclinations sent her on horseback rides instead of carriage rides and she frequented dancehalls instead of parlors.
The most exciting piece of history I learned about Great-Great-Great-Auntie Rose was her love of music. Oh, not the classical, but the lively, tap-your-toe kind, thus the dancehall instead of the concert hall. She would shut her eyes and sway to the rhythm, fanning herself in time to the music. There was nothing scandalous or off-color in her eyes to be present in such establishments but it was considered shameful to the family patriarchs and matriarchs.
Because Auntie Rose looked so out of place in these surroundings, she was a target for every no account that came along. Nevertheless, one of them stood out in the crowd. Although Auntie Rose was present for the music only, Mister Jeremy Butler, a handsome and dashing young man, swept her off her feet, onto the dance floor, and into his arms; and there she stayed night after night.
When the family learned of this infatuation, she was whisked off to stay with relatives on the east coast and learn etiquette and good manners fitting for a lady of her position and stature. She may have been physically absent from the City but her inner clock kept time to the swing and sway of her memories. Neither time nor distance could dissuade her from returning to the love she left behind.
Upon her return, Mister Butler had moved on and she never saw him again. No matter how the family cajoled and enticed her with trips and parties and suitable suiters to choose and move on with her life, she always returned to her favorite table in hopes of finding him waiting for her there.
Auntie Rose became a permanent fixture at The Royal Dancehall for many, many years. She never reunited with Mister Butler and she never married anyone else. I believe she was ahead of her time for she would have fit right in with the 1990s…one hundred years later.
