It was late winter, 1974.
Three young women – Ann Porter, my wife Shirley and someone whose name we can’t recall –were sitting inside a beauty salon in downtown Boston, Mass. The salon had closed, but there they were, three more customers waiting anxiously to get free haircuts.
Note the word “free.” That’s why they were there after closing time.
One of the cosmetologists – a member of Ann’s church – had said he would give Ann and her friends free trims if they arrived after the shop closed. Who could pass up free?
When they left – all perfectly coifed – darkness had settled in, so they made their way cautiously to the subway for their ride home. For Ann and Shirley, home was Shaler Lane in Cambridge.
The three entered their train and found a seat. Sitting across from them were two rough-looking dudes. One of them was smoking a cigarette, but not the kind bought over the counter.
“Do you see that ‘No Smoking’ sign up there?,” Ann spoke up, unsmiling, her beautiful brown eyes glaring at the offender.
The man did not stop smoking. He and his friend glared back.
Before long, the ladies had to change trains. They hurried along, hoping to leave the two ruffians behind. But there they were again, on the same train, still glaring.
Arriving at Harvard Square, the anti-smoking vigilante and her accomplices disembarked. So did the two men. The ladies agreed on a plan: We need to hold hands and run. If one of us falls down, the other two must help her up. We’re in this together, and we must stay together.
The plan worked. They held hands and ran to Zum Zum’s, a fast-food restaurant at Harvard Square. All three of them quickly crammed into a phone booth, and Shirley called me.
“Come and get us,” she said frantically. “We’re at Zum Zum’s. Two men are following us.”
They could see the men outside, walking the sidewalks, looking around.
When I arrived in our Pontiac Bonneville – probably the biggest car on Shaler Lane – the three were still ensconced in the phone booth. They spotted the car, ran outside, jumped in and the four of us rode safely home, no doubt leaving the smoker and his comrade wondering how three women with nice hairdos disappeared into thin, dark air.
Later, I asked my wife to describe Ann for me.
“Well,” she said, “she has a calming, soothing personality and she’s
very methodical in her thinking. She’s smart, she served the community and her church and if she had a job to do, she did it and did it well.”
And, I might add, it wasn’t advisable to underestimate the intestinal fortitude of this lovely, usually reserved lady with the soothing personality. She followed the rules. And if you didn’t, you were subject to a scolding.
Ann Porter died in the spring of 2017, but she left behind a wonderful legacy for her four children: Always encourage people to do the right thing.
But be prepared to run.
Phil Hudgins is senior editor of Community Newspapers Inc. Email phudgins@cninewspapers.com.