Cleaning out our home of 45 years, getting ready to move to an apartment isn't all bad. Almost daily I find something I'd forgotten that I had and memories come flooding back. Last week I cleaned out one of my trunks. In it was my bridesmaid dress from my cousin's wedding, the brocade coat I wore in a college fashion show and a cheaply made red cotton full skirt decorated with sequins. . .. .oh the memories.
I always loved dancing but my parents couldn't afford to send me to dancing school after about the age of 5. That never stopped me from dancing, but me dancing by myself in the basement to show tunes does have the limitation of never performing on a stage or in front of an audience. Later, when I was high school and college, I belonged to dance clubs that had performances on stage. For one brief year I even was a "professional" dancer in college---I was a go-go dancer for several college events in the 1960s.
But, between Kindergarten and high school, there was a time that I danced several times on a huge stage! My Girl Scout troop decided to earn the Folk Dancing badge. Our leader's parents were square dancers who agreed to teach us after school in their basement. We met once a week square dancing. They were friends with Sheila a Scotswoman who did traditional Scottish dances with swords. She wore her tartan skirt and sash each week and danced in the most flexible shoes I'd ver seen. We begged her to teach us, too. Bouncing up and down on our toes, we danced within and around the two swords on the floor to Scottish music. I can still do some of the steps and showed my grandchildren several years ago.
After earning that badge, the Girl Scout council decided to sponsor a city-wide dance performance at Busch Stadium during a Cardinal game. . . .we were wide-eyed with expectation, practicing the dance within our own troop and meeting in various places around the city to practice with larger groups.
At last the night came. Wearing my red, sequined skirt that my grandmother made, I have never been so nervous as waiting on the edge of the field for the music to begin. Hundreds of Girl Scouts swarmed on the field so sure that one misstep would be headline news of the Post-Dispatch. The music began and we began twirling and swinging. The lights dimmed and a special light caught our hair bows and the stripes of those wearing pants: that's all the audience could see and it was magical. I lost all nervousness and twirled happily around: happiness bubbled up inside me. When the dance was over the spotlights came on and the thunderous applause woke me from my dream dance state. I HAD DANCED AT A CARDINAL GAME!
Several months later we had a reprise at the Arena (our largest indoor venue in St. Louis) during a Girl Scout festival. But we had reached the mountain top at Busch stadium! I was 12 years old and never again felt the excitement I felt that night at Busch Stadium. I do have memories of those feelings anytime I see hundreds of dancers flood a field for the Olympics or the Super Bowl---yeah, I know what they are feeling.
And yes, I gave away most of what was in that trunk, but I still have the red skirt.
Click here for photos of us dancing in the Murphy's basement and Busch Stadium.
