A special reward of this project are the stories I hear that smash the old myths that were and are still taught to women and that terrify them into patterns of thought and behavior that go against their best interests. One of the most delightful surprises has been the discovery of so many “ordinary” women who found love late in life, when they were past the fifth decade, the age when they are “supposed” to have become undesirable, unlovable and invisible. Guess what? To paraphrase Mark Twain, people believe many things that ain’t so. Late Blooming is the story of one such woman’s romance late in life.
     Helene Southern Slater was married twice, the first time to a soldier during World War II, then to a musician who had “courted” her when they were both teenagers in segregated Philadelphia. Neither proved to be successful unions. Helene is a very ambitious woman who matured during an era when American men expected their wives’ aspirations to find expression in the helpmate role. And while choosing between marriage and career was more a white than it was a black woman’s choice, many Afro-American women and their husbands preferred the homemaker’s role if it was possible. This was not the case with Helene, who was on a particular voyage: for her father’s (as well as her own) sake, she was trying to regain the “good life” her family lost in the Great Depression.
     Like many elder daughters who enjoyed good relationships with their fathers, Helene is unsympathetic to the second wave of feminism. But like many of her white sisters, her early romances were unhappy experiences, and for the same reasons. She is too independent, too self-assertive. With her heart set on getting a college degree and professional employment, she had to wait a long time before she found love—and then it was with a man from a different culture.
     Late Blooming takes a good whack at the myth that only the young can savor romantic love. While it may be true that the appeal of youth is rooted in the survival of the species, the needs of the mind and soul are much more complex. Upon our basic instincts the mind builds intricate superstructures. A woman may be sixty years old but “feel” like twenty-two. Some men can see and appreciate that radiance in the older woman.
     Share in the delight Helene knew when she found love late in life, and take heart. The passing of youth doesn’t mean that the bell has tolled on romance. It may still be waiting in the wings.

HELENE SOUTHERN SLATER
Late Blooming

The romantic episodes I had as a girl and as a young woman, although very intense while they were going on, didn’t affect my life too much. What I’d call real romance didn’t enter my life until a very late stage. I was just past sixty when I met a gentleman in Barbados who made life delightful for me. Yes, my great romance didn’t happen until I was an old lady. When it comes to romance, I guess you could say I’m a late lady.
     My first trip to Barbados came about through my sorority. Each year we have a national meeting. One lady in my chapter was a native of Barbados. She was the first black woman in New York to become a certified public accountant. She and I were close friends, and when she retired, she went back home. When I became president of my chapter and it became my chapter’s responsibility to host the national convention, I suggested that we go to Barbados. Take the whole outfit to Barbados.
     I had to fight with the national office staff to do it. When I told national that my chapter wanted to take the whole sorority to Barbados, there was an uproar. Oh, no! We can’t do that! I explained what I’d learned about Barbados from my friend, that the people are very friendly, that the economy wasn’t wealthy but it was good, that the exchange rate was two Barbados dollars to one American dollar. Well, they changed their minds. When the staff at national realized that we could do the whole trip, stay in a good hotel and have three meals a day for a total of one hundred ninety-nine dollars each, well, that was too good of a deal to turn down.
     The trip was approved. Among the several jobs I was working was one at a travel agency, so I was able to arrange the trip through my office. The whole sorority flew to Barbados and we stayed at the Holiday Inn. The hotel was a gorgeous place, very different from the Holiday Inns in this country. The hotel was right on the water.
     Barbados is a beautiful place with lovely people. The motto of the country is pride and industry. Barbadians believe very strongly in education. Everybody must go to school, everybody must learn to do something, everybody is proud of what he or she does for a living. It’s completely different from the American attitude. I said to one of the young employees at the hotel, “What is it that you do, young man?” He said, “I’m a busboy. The best one on the island.” In the United States a young man who works as a busboy will walk around with his uniform inside a briefcase; he’s ashamed of the job and doesn’t want the world to know that he’s a busboy. American boys aren’t proud of the work they do unless their job is prestigious. They say, “Oh, I’m just a so and so.”
     The sorority trip was in October. I had a many responsibilities during the convention and didn’t have a chance to get around the island like the other girls did, I couldn’t go places or meet men. But as the person responsible for organizing this convention, I had a great many dealings with the hotel management and staff. A month or so after I returned to New York, I received a card from the maitre d’ at the hotel. He wrote: “Sometimes you meet a person who you can be friends with for your whole life.” I was shocked, but pleasantly so, and I decided to go back at Christmas and visit my sorority sister and friend who had retired there.
     I stayed at the same hotel. My new friend worked there, and he explained that he wasn’t permitted to associate with guests, but he asked me if I would meet him after work. I found that I was interested, and I got dressed up in my good, go-to-meetin’ clothes, and he took me to a club where I saw limbo dancing for the first time. When the show was over, he said, “Come and dance with me.” I said, “I can’t dance.” He talked me, he charmed me into going onto the dance floor with him. I followed his body movements and that night I did dance. With him I was able to do the kind of dancing they do in the islands.
     A romance began. He took me many places, introduced me to many people. I became acquainted with writers in Barbados, I came to know people in radio and television, and I was able to expand my communications business into Barbados.
     I was interviewed on the radio. Every time I came down, the newspapers wrote a story about me. Over the years I became acquainted with many government officials and business men and women. I met their representatives to the United Nations, and the secretaries of education and tourism. Once the tourist board gave a big luncheon in my honor and made me an Honorary Barbadian.
     I loved the country. For me, it has the ideal climate. The temperature is moderated by the sea breezes. I always stayed at the same hotel. I bought fish from the fisherman down at the docks and I would have it cooked for me in my room. I even considered moving permanently to the island, but I wasn’t able to create a situation for myself that would make that possible financially.
     Between 1972 and 1991 I made forty-one trips to Barbados. I saw my friend on every one of those trips. We didn’t marry. I never considered it because I’d already tried that twice. He was younger than I was, and I have nothing but pleasant memories of the many years that we were good friends. When I was growing up, I heard people say that a woman who wasn’t married by the age of twenty-six was an old maid who nobody would want. But sister, the world isn’t such a simple place, and thank heaven for it! I’m living proof that a woman can find happiness and beautiful love after sixty. And I hope it happens for every one of you.

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