Down the years, her sisters never ceased to remember lovely Jimmy Kirby, the young man who doted on Evelyn. He was a lovely man, and he worshipped her. She undoubtedly enjoyed the attention, but in 1944, she was swept off her feet by a G. I. called Kevin Lomas. He regaled her with stories of the wonderful life and home, which awaited his return to Seattle, Washington, the northernmost state on the west coast, next to the Canadian border. He described everything about his home, in the greatest detail, even down to the patterns on the wallpaper.
When he returned safe, from Germany, after the war, He asked Evelyn to follow him to America, and marry him. He left her money for her fare, to follow him, he presumably not being able to free himself from the army short of demob, back in the States. She said she would follow him as soon as possible, waved him off, and spent the next few weeks organising a passport, arranging travel, buying clothes, working her notice.
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| G.I. and Bride to Be |
She was as happy as a princess, walking on air, when, days before she was due to leave, she received a letter from Kevin’s father, saying ‘It’s all lies. He has nothing, not even a bed to sleep in. He’s worthless. Stay at home’ Despite her family’s entreaties, she was determined to go, find her G.I., marry him, and make the best of it. I remember her departure. Alex drove her to the station, in his motorcar, accompanied by Charlie- and me! I don’t know why me. Perhaps Evelyn asked for me to go. It was around noon, of a hot and sunny day. The car had a little, chrome, turning handle in the middle of the dashboard. This handle released the bottom of the windscreen, allowing it to push out, for ventilation. That’s the only time I ever recall seeing it opened, so. Such a momentous occasion, and all I remember of it, is a car windscreen being opened.
Evelyn arrived in Seattle, and after a fruitless search for Kevin, found herself, on a warm, sunny day, sitting on a park bench, her suitcase by her side, at her wits’ end, no idea what to do, and crying her eyes out.
Then Evelyn’s guardian angel finally clocked on duty, sending one Neva Lawson, a matronly figure, of saintly disposition, to Evelyn’s rescue. Her opening line might well have been ‘Why, what ails you, my child?’ and if it wasn’t, it should have been something similar, but the upshot was that the kind soul listened to Evelyn’s tale of woe, then took her home. So began a loving friendship, which lasted until Neva’s death, 50 yrs later. Neva wrote to Jane, and the two of them became unlikely pen pals.
Evelyn did soon find Kevin, and marry him, making a stable and lasting marriage. To begin with, it had its rough patches. Evelyn once confessed, in a letter, ‘I have hit him with a pan, and I have given him a mark he will carry to his grave. They did settle down enough for them to raise three daughters, to whom the sainted Neva became‘Grandma Lawson’, a source of much love and happiness.
When the girls had all grown up, and Kevin had died, Evelyn came to experience brief dealings with the Organisation. There certainly was an organisation of some sort, though there wasn’t exactly a sign on the office door. They deferably had some welly.
It fell out this-wise. One of the girls was being stalked by an ex beau who wouldn’t face the fact that his attentions were no longer required. Evelyn was getting really worried, and told a friend of the problem. The friend gave Evelyn a phone no., a name, and an office address, saying, ‘Go see this man, tell him I sent you, and take ‘X’grand, in cash, with you.
She duly found herself sitting in an office, facing a pleasant, well groomed, mature gentleman across a huge, empty desk. He asked what was worrying her, and she told him. He listened politely, and when she had finished, he asked-
“So you would like this individual to go away?”
“Yes”.
“Do you want him to disappear completely, or just- go?” There was a pause; the penny went ‘Clunk!’ and then-
“God, no! Just for him to go away!”
“That’s fine. Did you bring any money with you?” She said how much, and she put it on the desk, as she was bid.
Mrs. Lomas, I am sure you that you won’t be bothered by this gentleman again. Just forget him”. With that, she was politely ushered out.
She learned, sometime later, that a car had driven up at the building site where the gent worked. Two passengers got out and asked to see him. He came out, they bundled him into the car and drove him to the station. He was handed a bag of clothes from his apartment, and a single ticket to New York, 2400 miles from Seattle. That’s as far as you can get from Seattle, without flippers. He was told that coming back would never be an option. I believe he mailed this account to his friends in Seattle, to explain his sudden departure. So, it sounds like a pretty tall tale, and you don’t have to believe it. I’m just telling it like I heard it.
Evelyn lived out her days in Seattle. Would you believe Seattle is named after an Indian Chief? Can you imagine Tom Mix, Roy Rodgers, or John Wayne saying ‘Greetings to Big Chief Seattle from the Great White Queen!’ Well, it's true.