This afternoon my mother gave me a magnificent necklace of jet beads–long admired and coveted by me–that had belonged to her great-grandmother. Real jet. Lovely.

As she took the necklace out of her jewelry cabinet she started to laugh and asked, “Did I ever show you these?” She had not. “These” proved to be a set of 5 notes that Mom had found in an old college yearbook belonging to my maternal grandmother, who was born in 1900 and attended Valparaiso University in Indiana during the years 1919 and 1920. Space does not permit me to describe my grandmother, but she is fondly remembered by those who knew and [mostly] loved her as “pig-headed” and “a hellion.”

Each note was addressed to Miss Delefern Slocum [yep, that was my grandmother’s name, but she went by Dele, pronounced “Del”], Altruria Hall. The notes were from Ida A. Powell, Dean of Women at the university, and each one instructed my grandmother to “Please come to my office this afternoon between two and four,” or words to that effect. The dates ranged from November 1919 through May 1920. By the fifth note Dean Powell was reduced to saying, “Come to my office as soon as possible.”

On the front of the envelope containing each note my grandmother had pencilled, in the same unmistakable handwriting I used to see on my birthday cards, a note concerning the infraction that had provoked the summons. Here are those notes, in order by date:

“No. 1. Smoking?”

“2nd show at movies, eating with fellow in restaurant after 10 o’clock unchaperoned, talking to man in front of building”

“Phoenix Club dance–going to restaurant after”

“dishes thrown out of windows, roof to take pictures”

“N.D. dance 1:30–should have been 12.”

I expect that “N.D.” referred to Notre Dame. But I would love to know what made her hurl dishes out her windows.