Bathtub gin, smoking in the backseat of Myrtle's Ford and dancing to race records until exhaustion set in.....these were the things that Effamira dreamed of, these were as close as Effamira ever got to purpose.
Effamira was raised by her wild Aunt Brent who was known around town simply as "She of the Cloche" either because she was a devilishly clever gal or because of her intractable penchant for that distinctive inverted bucket hat so popular at the time. In any case Aunt Brent left her mark on Effamira and Effamira payed the price.
For as she stepped into womanhood the world stepped in a different direction. WWII approached and all over America women were about to prove that "we can do it" and find meaning in America's workplace.
Effamira found repetitive labor a form of torment and factories unspeakably depressing. The thought of painstakingly manufacturing weapons she thought, frankly, creepy. As Rosie the Riveter rolled up her sleeves in order to kick Teutonic ass ,Effamira kept her thoughts bound deeply in her heart and kept her own counsel.
Effamira's tragedy was that she was simply born too late. <<<<<