“Honor your partner; honor your corner. And do-si-do.” It took a while to expand the series of commands our caller gave us, but we learned them so we would not “break down the square,” a terrible offense unless you were a raw beginner. We could laugh about our errors for the first few sessions, but if we wanted to continue with the weekly gatherings of the College Town Twirlers, we had to take the calls seriously, maybe even arrive a little early for practice before the other couples appeared. And they would all be there on time.
If you came late, there might not be three other couples to complete a square, and you would need to wait until someone got tired and wanted to take a time-out. That did not happen very frequently; square dancers seemed to have an inexhaustible energy for two or three hours of swinging a partner.
The Twirlers came from several towns around Amherst. Since all of them were, in some way, a college town, the group’s name was highly appropriate when we joined with others for expanded sessions throughout the Connecticut valley. During the day, the Twirlers were faculty members, staff in an academic department or even employees from dining services.
One of the more active Twirlers was the chief glassblower for the University. He had a lot of wind and great endurance during all of the sets. If you were a close friend, he might give you a special, handmade ornament to hang on your Christmas tree. Being his boss, I received several designs over the years. He was so well known for the scientific glass-apparatuses he fabricated that five executives from several Japanese commercial glass companies visited Amherst when they were at an international meeting in Boston, not realizing, at the time, that Amherst was not a suburb of Boston. They gave him a miniature Shogun warrior; he gave them unique glass-blown artifacts.
Those who were active square-dancers were as conspicuously dressed as any Shogun warrior or kimonoed geisha performer. Yards and yards of crinoline were essential underpinnings for the dresses Karen wore to the dances we attended. Her skirts consumed a significant space in our closet. Men, however, wore simple plaid shirts and carried a large red handkerchief in a back pocket. It is only in the West that men wear cowboy shirts and bandanas around their necks. And boots. Up north, for square dances held in gyms rather than barns, the men had to wear tennis shoes or sneakers to protect the polished floorboards on which they moved.
Square dancing was not our only activity for social pleasure. It might be considered as the countermeasure for our other hobby, gourmet dining. Faculty wives, and occasionally faculty husbands, would prepare dinners we would share with one another on a rotational basis in our homes. Multiple groups belonging to the Faculty Wives Club would be responsible for a particular dish created from recipes given out to all of its members. Since faculty often lived within local neighborhoods, it was common for the appetizer to be eaten at one home, the entree at another and the dessert at a third location. The cuisine of a unique country would be chosen for the monthly gatherings. Karen and I usually enjoyed the selections given to the group, except for the Indonesian evening which seemed to have peanut butter in every offering, including the soup and main course.
Along with square dancing and gourmet dinners for interactive social gatherings, there were the usual cocktail parties for holidays. One of the more memorable gatherings was the Spinelli May Wine Pig Roast. Actually, few attendees really remembered it, or at least, how it ended. One magnificent spring day, Franco Spinelli and his Hawaiian wife hosted a true pig roast in their back yard. The pit had been dug early in the morning, and a small hog was anchored on a spit above it. May wine with flower blossoms and greenery was served while we waited for the roasting to be finished. However, no one knew exactly how to determine that finale. So, the many guests continued to consume the marvelous May wine, until the pork was ultimately served and all of the guests, themselves, were equally “porked.” Later, it was very difficult to recall the names of those whom you met at the Spinellis.
Other significant social gatherings were for card parties. Couples-bridge or party-bridge was the form which Karen and I enjoyed most. Both of us found duplicate bridge to be sufficiently competitive. However, she was also part of a woman’s bridge group that apparently was held mainly for gossip, with only a few hands played throughout a session.
At the same time, a college town such as Amherst provided a spectrum of choices for us to enjoy as a couple. The University offered theater in the form of dramas and comedies as well as music by visiting or local orchestras and chamber groups. I, myself, developed an interest in modern dance performances. Of course, there were also traveling and permanent exhibits in the art galleries.
Very good friends of ours, Bill and Sally Venmen, were leaders of the local Gilbert and Sullivan Light Opera Company. Each year Bill directed (and Sally did everything else) a different G&S performance. Karen sometimes had a part in the supporting cast. One year, she was a young fairy in Iolanthe. It gave her a one-time-only excuse to die her hair and go flitting about in a diaphanous costume. Deb, on the other hand, expressed her dramatic interests by being a junior assistant (director) for Bill while still in high school.
A college town might be small in geographic size and with a limited population of faculty and students, but its cultural environment can be equal to any city in the country, from New York to Houston to Los Angeles. Here one can twirl in a variety of patterns and not be limited to square dancing all of the time.