Nash Girls: Leaving Fond du Lac

Lillian Mercer had never imagined that the war would change her life quite so dramatically.
At twenty-six years old, she had been married to Thomas Mercer for nearly five years. They had made their home in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, where Thomas had worked before entering military service and Lillian had found employment at the Rueping leather tannery.
The tannery provided steady work, but Lillian had never particularly enjoyed it. The odors from the leather-processing operations followed her home, the work was tiring, and the wages left little money after paying her living expenses.
With Thomas now serving in the United States Army, Lillian was responsible for supporting herself.
She missed her husband terribly.
His letters arrived whenever military duties permitted, and she faithfully answered every one.
But letters didn’t pay the rent.
For several months, Lillian had been corresponding with her cousin, Eleanor O’Connor, who had moved from Fond du Lac to Kenosha earlier in the year.
Eleanor had found employment at the Nash automobile factory.
Her letters described a bustling industrial city where women were being hired to perform work that previously had been done almost entirely by men.
The wages were better than what Lillian earned at the tannery.
The shifts were long, but Eleanor insisted the money made the effort worthwhile.
Finally, Eleanor wrote with an invitation.
Come to Kenosha. You can stay with me until you’re established. They’re still hiring women at Nash, and I believe you could do much better here.
Lillian thought about it for several days.
Then she gave notice at the tannery, packed her belongings, and purchased a railroad ticket.
She was going to Kenosha.
THE WOMAN AT THE RAILROAD STATION
The Chicago & North Western passenger train carried Lillian south from Fond du Lac toward Milwaukee, where she made her connection for Kenosha.
She traveled with a suitcase, a smaller bag, and a hatbox.
Her thick black hair, which reached nearly to her waist, had been carefully brushed and arranged beneath her traveling hat.
Thomas had always admired her hair.
He frequently told her that it was one of the first things he had noticed about her when they met.
Lillian had never considered cutting it.
When the train arrived in Kenosha, she stepped onto the platform and began searching for Eleanor.
A woman standing near the station entrance waved enthusiastically.
“Lillian! Over here!”
Lillian looked toward the voice.
For a moment, she hardly recognized her cousin.
“Eleanor?”
The woman hurried forward and embraced her.
“Oh, it’s wonderful to see you!”
Lillian stepped back.
Then she stared.
“Eleanor! What happened to your hair?”
Eleanor burst out laughing.
“I wondered how long it would take you to notice!”
When Eleanor had left Fond du Lac, her thick brown hair had reached the middle of her back.
She had always worn it pinned up in a large coil.
Now almost all of it was gone.
Her ears were completely exposed. The sides were trimmed short, and the back of her neck was closely tapered. The hair on top was only long enough to comb neatly into place.
It was the sort of haircut Lillian might have expected to see on a young man.
“You cut it all off!”
“Not quite all of it,” Eleanor replied, laughing.
“But it’s so short!”
“That’s the idea.”
Lillian walked around her cousin, examining the back.
“Good heavens, Eleanor. You can practically see your scalp!”
“Well, I don’t have to spend half an hour arranging it every morning.”
“But you had such beautiful hair.”
“I still do. There’s just considerably less of it.”
Lillian shook her head.
“I can’t imagine doing that.”
Eleanor picked up one of her bags.
“Come along. By the time you’ve worked a few weeks at Nash, you might understand.”
A NEW HOME IN KENOSHA
Eleanor rented a modest upstairs apartment in a house within walking distance of the Nash factory.
There was a small kitchen, a sitting room, and a bedroom with enough space for a second narrow bed.
It wasn’t luxurious, but it was clean and affordable.
“You can stay here until you get yourself established,” Eleanor explained. “There’s no reason to spend money on a boardinghouse when I’ve got room.”
Lillian thanked her.
After unpacking, she removed her hat and began taking the pins from her hair.
Her thick black locks tumbled down her back.
Eleanor watched with amusement.
“Goodness, Lillian. You’ve still got that enormous head of hair.”
“Of course I do.”
“Just wait until you spend twelve hours working around machinery.”
Lillian turned.
“Twelve hours?”
“Seven in the morning until seven at night, or seven at night until seven in the morning.”
“Every shift?”
“That’s how they’re operating. The factory is busy.”
Lillian considered that.
“And that’s why you cut your hair?”
“Partly.”
“What was the other reason?”
Eleanor smiled.
“I liked the way some of the other women looked with theirs cut short.”
Lillian stared at her.
“You actually wanted it that short?”
“Certainly.”
“Who cut it?”
“A woman named Vivian. She works at Frank’s Barbershop, right near Nash.”
“A woman barber?”
“Yes. She used to have a beauty salon, but after her aunt died, the women working for her all left for better-paying factory jobs. Eventually, she ended up working for Frank.”
“And she cuts women’s hair like yours?”
“All the time.”
Lillian shook her head.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Eleanor laughed.
“You’re going to discover that Kenosha is a little different from Fond du Lac.”
THE WALK TO NASH
The following morning, Lillian walked to the Nash employment office.
Eleanor had already explained where she needed to go.
As Lillian approached the factory neighborhood, she noticed groups of women walking along the sidewalks.
Many carried lunch pails.
Some wore practical work dresses and sturdy shoes.
But what immediately attracted Lillian’s attention was their hair.
One woman had a bob ending just below her ears.
Another had a short haircut similar to Eleanor’s.
A third had her hair cropped so closely that the back of her head appeared almost bare.
Lillian stared.
Then she saw something even more surprising.
Two women were walking toward her, laughing and smoking cigarettes.
One had her hair clipped extremely short.
The other was completely bald.
Not simply short-haired.
Bald.
Her entire head appeared to have been shaved.
Lillian stopped walking.
She had never seen a woman deliberately shave her head before.
The two women passed without paying her any attention.
Lillian continued toward the factory, wondering what could possibly persuade a woman to do such a thing.
A few moments later, she noticed a barbershop near the factory.
The sign read:
FRANK’S BARBERSHOP
Through the large front windows, she could see three barber chairs.
A man was cutting a customer’s hair in the first chair.
A young barber was sweeping near the third.
And at the middle station, a woman was cutting another woman’s hair.
Lillian slowed her pace.
The customer was wearing factory clothes.
Her hair was already short, but the woman barber was trimming it even closer around the ears.
A considerable amount of hair lay on the floor.
Lillian remembered what Eleanor had told her.
That must be Vivian.
She watched for another moment before continuing toward the Nash employment office.
THE APPLICATION
The employment clerk looked over Lillian’s information.
“Fond du Lac?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’ve been working at the Rueping tannery?”
“For several years.”
“Accustomed to factory work, then?”
“Yes.”
“Your husband?”
“Serving in the Army.”
The clerk nodded.
“We’ve been hiring women to help keep production moving. The work can be demanding.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“Can you manage a twelve-hour shift?”
“I believe so.”
He examined her application again.
“Well, Mrs. Mercer, we’ll see about getting you started.”
By the time Lillian left the office, she had been given instructions for reporting to work.
She was delighted.
She had traveled from Fond du Lac hoping for an opportunity, and now it appeared she had found one.
On her way back to Eleanor’s apartment, she passed Frank’s Barbershop again.
This time, a woman was leaving with a short haircut that exposed both ears and the entire back of her neck.
Lillian watched her walk toward the factory.
For the first time, she wondered what she herself might look like with short hair.
THE CONVERSATION THAT EVENING
That evening, Lillian sat in front of the bedroom mirror, brushing her long black hair.
Eleanor was preparing for her night shift.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Eleanor remarked.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?”
Lillian hesitated.
“Your haircut.”
Eleanor laughed.
“Again?”
“Well, I saw so many women today with short hair. Some of them hardly had any at all.”
“That’s quite common around the factory.”
“I even saw a woman who was completely bald.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I know several women who’ve done that.”
“On purpose?”
“Certainly.”
Lillian looked astonished.
“Why?”
“Some find it more comfortable. Some like the appearance. And some just get tired of dealing with their hair.”
Lillian continued brushing.
“Do you ever miss yours?”
Eleanor thought for a moment.
“Sometimes I miss how it looked. But I don’t miss taking care of it.”
“Wasn’t it frightening when you had it cut?”
“The first time? Of course.”
“What did you have done?”
“Vivian cut it into a bob.”
“Like the women I saw today?”
“Yes. Then I went back a few weeks later and had her cut it much shorter.”
Lillian studied her cousin’s head.
“How short did you tell her?”
“I told her I wanted my ears uncovered and the back clipped close.”
“And she just did it?”
“After making sure I understood what I was asking for.”
Lillian gathered her hair behind her head.
“What if I had mine cut and hated it?”
“Then you’d grow it out again.”
“And what if Thomas hated it?”
Eleanor shrugged.
“Thomas married you, Lillian. Not your hair.”
Lillian smiled.
“I suppose that’s true.”
Eleanor picked up her lunch pail.
“Well, don’t spend the whole evening worrying about it. You don’t have to cut anything unless you want to.”
After Eleanor left, Lillian remained in front of the mirror.
She pulled her hair tightly back, hiding the long lengths behind her shoulders.
For a moment, she tried imagining herself with Eleanor’s haircut.
Her ears would be uncovered.
Her neck would be bare.
There would be no long hair to pin up every morning.
She studied the unfamiliar appearance.
Then she released the hair.
It fell heavily down her back.
She sighed.
“I couldn’t possibly.”
But she wasn’t entirely certain anymore.
HER FIRST DAYS AT NASH
Lillian soon discovered that Eleanor had not exaggerated the demands of factory work.
The shifts were long.
The factory was noisy.
By the time she returned to the apartment, she was tired and ready to wash up and rest.
Her long hair quickly became another chore.
Each morning, she had to brush it, arrange it, and pin it securely.
During the workday, she worried about loose strands escaping around machinery.
Afterward, she had to remove the pins, brush everything out, and prepare it again.
One afternoon, a woman working near her noticed Lillian adjusting her hair.
“Having trouble keeping that up?”
“A little.”
The woman smiled.
“I used to have hair nearly as long as yours.”
Lillian looked at her closely cropped head.
“What happened to it?”
“Frank’s Barbershop happened to it.”
Lillian laughed.
“Everyone keeps mentioning that place.”
“That’s because Frank and Vivian aren’t afraid to cut women’s hair short.”
“Did Vivian cut yours?”
“She certainly did.”
The woman turned to show the back.
“Had her take it right down close.”
Lillian examined the haircut.
“Do you like it?”
“Wouldn’t go back to long hair for anything.”
Another woman joined the conversation.
“Mine was down to my waist when I started here.”
Her head was shaved almost completely smooth.
Lillian stared.
“You had all that hair?”
“Certainly.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t have to worry about it.”
The women laughed.
Lillian smiled, but the conversation remained with her for the rest of the day.
A LETTER TO THOMAS
That Sunday, Lillian sat at the kitchen table writing to her husband.
She told him about her new employment, Eleanor’s apartment, and the automobile factory.
Then she hesitated.
Finally, she added:
You would hardly recognize Eleanor. She has cut her hair very short, almost like a man’s. Quite a few of the women working at Nash have done the same thing.
She paused.
Then she wrote:
I have even been considering having some of mine cut. It is rather troublesome working these long shifts, although I haven’t decided what I want to do.
She read the sentence several times.
Then she left it in the letter.
Thomas might be surprised.
But she wanted him to know what life in Kenosha was like.
THE FIRST VISIT TO FRANK’S
Several days later, Lillian finished her shift and walked toward Frank’s Barbershop.
She had decided to ask about getting her hair shortened.
Not necessarily cut like Eleanor’s.
Certainly not shaved.
Just shortened.
The bell above the door rang as she entered.
Frank was working at the first chair.
Vivian occupied the middle station.
Eddie, the youngest barber, was sweeping around his chair.
Frank looked up.
“Afternoon, miss. Can we help you?”
“I was hoping to speak with the lady barber.”
Vivian smiled.
“That would be me.”
Lillian approached.
“My cousin Eleanor O’Connor comes here.”
Vivian immediately recognized the name.
“Oh, yes. Eleanor. Short brown hair, closely tapered in back?”
“That’s her.”
“How’s she liking it?”
“Very much. That’s partly why I’m here.”
Vivian gestured toward the chair.
“Have a seat.”
Lillian settled into the middle chair and removed her hat.
Then she began taking the pins from her hair.
Vivian watched as the thick black lengths fell down Lillian’s back.
“My goodness. You’ve got quite a head of hair.”
Frank glanced over.
“That’s a lot of hair to be carrying around a factory.”
Lillian laughed.
“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.”
Vivian combed through it.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t really know.”
“Well, that’s something we ought to settle before I start cutting.”
Lillian smiled nervously.
“I’ve never had it short.”
“Then perhaps we should begin with a bob.”
“How short?”
Vivian held the comb near Lillian’s jaw.
“Somewhere around here.”
Lillian stared at the mirror.
“That would be an enormous amount of hair.”
“It certainly would.”
Vivian lowered the comb.
“Or we could take a little off the ends and let you think about it.”
Lillian considered that.
Then she looked toward the hand-operated clippers resting on Vivian’s station.
“Are those what you used on Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
“She told me you clipped the back.”
Vivian nodded.
“That’s right.”
Lillian hesitated.
“And the women who have their heads shaved?”
Frank looked over.
“We’ve had a few of those.”
Vivian smiled.
“Some women want their hair clipped close, and others ask us to finish with shaving soap and a straight razor.”
Lillian stared.
“Completely smooth?”
“Completely.”
She looked at herself in the mirror.
Her long black hair rested over her shoulders.
She had spent years caring for it.
Could she really part with it?
Vivian waited patiently.
Finally, Lillian spoke.
“I think I’d like to start with the bob.”
THE SCISSORS
Vivian placed the white barber cloth around Lillian’s shoulders.
She carefully combed the long hair and divided it into sections.
“Are you ready?”
Lillian took a breath.
“Yes.”
Vivian gathered a heavy section at the back and positioned her scissors.
SNIP.
SNIP.
SNIP.
A thick length of black hair separated and fell across the cloth.
Lillian gasped.
“Oh, my goodness.”
Vivian smiled.
“Still all right?”
“Yes. Keep going.”
The scissors continued.
Long sections fell one after another.
Soon the floor around the chair was covered with black hair.
Eddie came over with his broom.
“That’s quite a change.”
Lillian watched in the mirror as Vivian shaped the remaining hair into a neat bob ending near her jaw.
Within several minutes, the transformation was complete.
Vivian combed the hair into place.
“There. What do you think?”
Lillian turned her head from side to side.
Her neck felt surprisingly light.
She reached up and touched the ends.
“I can hardly believe it.”
Frank smiled.
“Looks good on you.”
Lillian studied the mirror.
The bob was attractive.
It was certainly easier to manage than her long hair.
But she found herself thinking about Eleanor.
About the women at Nash.
About the short haircuts she had seen every day.
She turned toward Vivian.
“Could you show me how short Eleanor’s hair is compared with this?”
Vivian used her comb to indicate the length.
“Your cousin has hers clipped above the ears, and the back is tapered very close.”
Lillian looked at her reflection.
“That would be quite a bit shorter.”
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
Then she smiled.
“Well, I didn’t come all the way from Fond du Lac to be afraid of a haircut.”
Vivian laughed.
“Does that mean you want it shorter?”
Lillian nodded.
“Yes. Let’s do it.”
THE HAND CLIPPERS
Vivian picked up the hand-operated clippers.
“These are what I used on Eleanor.”
She demonstrated the mechanism.
Click-click.
Click-click.
Lillian watched.
“They don’t make much noise.”
“No motor. Just my hand doing the work.”
Vivian stood behind the chair.
“Once I start, you’ll have a very short haircut.”
“I understand.”
Vivian placed the clippers against the back of Lillian’s neck.
Click-click-click.
The cutting teeth moved upward through the freshly bobbed hair.
Short black clippings fell onto the barber cloth.
Vivian made another pass.
Click-click-click.
The hair at the nape disappeared beneath the clippers.
Lillian felt the cool air against the back of her neck.
“Oh, that feels strange.”
Vivian smiled.
“You’ll get used to it.”
She continued around the sides, carefully clipping the hair above Lillian’s ears.
Then she shortened the top with scissors and blended everything together.
When she finished, Lillian’s haircut was remarkably similar to Eleanor’s.
The ears were completely exposed.
The back was closely tapered.
The top was short enough to comb neatly into place.
Vivian brushed away the loose clippings.
“There. Now you and your cousin will look quite a bit alike.”
Lillian raised her hands and touched the back of her head.
She couldn’t believe how little hair remained.
“Good heavens!”
Frank chuckled.
“That’s quite a difference from when you walked in.”
Lillian smiled.
“It certainly is.”
But as she studied her reflection, she noticed the shaving mugs and straight razors arranged along the counter.
She remembered the bald women she had seen outside Nash.
And suddenly, another question entered her mind.
ONE MORE QUESTION
“Vivian?”
“Yes?”
“Those women who have their heads shaved completely smooth. Do they usually start with a haircut like this?”
“Some do.”
“And others?”
“Some come in knowing exactly what they want.”
Lillian looked at the short hair remaining on her head.
She had already cut off nearly everything she had spent years growing.
The thought of removing the rest no longer seemed quite as impossible.
“What would you have to do to shave mine?”
Vivian set down her comb.
“First I’d clip the remaining hair as close as possible. Then I’d lather your scalp and shave it carefully with a straight razor.”
Lillian stared at her reflection.
“And there wouldn’t be any hair left?”
“Not until it started growing again.”
Frank looked over.
“You’re not thinking about going all the way, are you?”
Lillian smiled nervously.
“I believe I might be.”
Vivian studied her.
“Are you certain? You don’t have to make another change today.”
Lillian thought about the Rueping tannery.
She thought about Thomas serving in the Army.
She thought about Eleanor waiting at home and the new life she was building in Kenosha.
Only a few weeks earlier, she couldn’t have imagined having her hair cut above her shoulders.
Now she was sitting in a barber chair with a haircut shorter than many men’s.
And she liked it.
She looked at Vivian.
“Yes. I’d like to know what it’s like.”
“To have your head shaved?”
“Completely.”
Vivian nodded.
“All right, Lillian. If that’s what you want, we’ll do it properly.”
THE FINAL HAIRCUT
Vivian took the hand clippers again and fitted them for a closer cut.
She began at the front of Lillian’s head, working carefully backward.
Click-click-click.
The short hair disappeared beneath the cutting teeth.
Another pass followed.
Then another.
Vivian worked across the crown, down the sides, and around the back.
By the time she finished, only a fine covering of stubble remained.
Lillian raised a hand toward her head.
Vivian smiled.
“Wait until I’m finished.”
She brought over a shaving mug, brush, and warm towel.
After softening the remaining stubble, Vivian worked the shaving soap into a rich lather.
The brush moved across Lillian’s crown, around her ears, and down the back of her neck.
Lillian watched the white lather cover her head.
“I never imagined I’d be sitting in a barbershop having this done.”
Frank chuckled.
“You’re certainly not the first woman from Nash to say that.”
Vivian prepared a straight razor.
“Keep still now. I’ll take my time.”
She began at the front of Lillian’s scalp, using careful, controlled strokes.
The razor removed the lather and remaining stubble.
A smooth strip appeared.
Vivian continued methodically, working around the crown and down the sides.
She carefully shaved around the ears and finished at the back of the head.
The shop grew quiet except for the ordinary sounds of scissors, conversation, and Eddie sweeping the floor.
Finally, Vivian wiped away the remaining soap with a warm towel.
She examined the scalp for any missed spots and made a few final careful strokes.
Then she stepped back.
“There you are, Lillian.”
THE WOMAN IN THE MIRROR
Lillian stared at her reflection.
She was completely bald.
Her thick black hair, which had reached nearly to her waist that morning, was gone.
She slowly raised both hands and rubbed them over her smooth scalp.
“Oh, my goodness.”
Vivian smiled.
“Quite a change?”
“I hardly recognize myself.”
Lillian turned her head from side to side.
She touched the back of her neck.
Then she rubbed the top of her head again.
There was no hair to brush.
No pins to arrange.
No heavy braid hanging down her back.
She laughed.
“Thomas is never going to believe this.”
Frank smiled.
“Well, you can always send him a photograph.”
Lillian laughed again.
“I think I shall.”
Vivian retrieved one of the long sections of hair she had saved before beginning the haircut.
“Would you like to keep this?”
Lillian took the thick black length.
“Yes. I think I would.”
Vivian carefully braided it and tied the ends with ribbon.
“There. A keepsake.”
Lillian examined the braid.
“Perhaps I’ll save it until Thomas comes home.”
She paid for her haircut and thanked Vivian.
Then she stepped outside.
The afternoon breeze touched her newly shaved scalp.
She stopped.
“Oh!”
Through the window, Vivian saw her reach up and rub her head again.
Frank laughed.
“She’s discovering what the wind feels like.”
ELEANOR’S SURPRISE
When Lillian returned to the apartment, Eleanor was preparing supper.
She heard the door open.
“How did everything go?”
“Quite well.”
Eleanor turned around.
Then she froze.
“Lillian!”
Lillian stood in the doorway, smiling.
Her head was completely bald.
Eleanor stared.
“Good heavens! What did you do?”
Lillian laughed.
“I went to Frank’s.”
“I can see that!”
“Vivian cut my hair.”
Eleanor walked closer.
“She certainly did!”
Lillian rubbed her smooth scalp.
“I started with a bob.”
“A bob?”
“Then I had her cut it like yours.”
Eleanor stared.
“And then?”
Lillian smiled.
“I decided to have the rest shaved off.”
Eleanor burst out laughing.
“You told me you could never do that!”
“I know.”
“And now look at you!”
Lillian laughed with her.
Eleanor reached out.
“May I?”
“Certainly.”
Eleanor rubbed the top of Lillian’s head.
“Well, I’ll be. Vivian did a beautiful job.”
Lillian smiled.
“I rather like it.”
Eleanor shook her head in amazement.
“You’ve been in Kenosha only a short time, and you’ve already gone further than I have.”
Lillian grinned.
“Perhaps you’ll be next.”
Eleanor laughed.
“Don’t count on it.”
But she glanced toward the mirror.
And for just a moment, she appeared to be considering the possibility.
THE NEXT MORNING AT NASH
The following morning, Lillian reported for her shift at seven o’clock.
She carried her lunch pail and wore her usual work clothes.
But there was one enormous difference.
Her head was completely shaved.
As she approached the factory gate, several women recognized her.
One stopped.
“Good heavens, Lillian! You went to Frank’s!”
Lillian smiled.
“I certainly did.”
“Vivian?”
“Yes.”
The woman laughed.
“Well, she certainly took care of that long hair!”
Another woman approached.
“How do you like it?”
Lillian rubbed her head.
“I think I’m going to enjoy not having to spend half an hour arranging my hair every morning.”
The women laughed.
They walked together toward the factory entrance.
Across the street, Frank was opening his barbershop.
Vivian was preparing her middle station.
Eddie stood near the doorway with a broom.
He spotted Lillian walking toward Nash and waved.
She waved back.
Frank watched her disappear through the factory gate.
“Well, there’s our girl from Fond du Lac.”
Vivian smiled.
“She certainly surprised herself yesterday.”
Frank chuckled.
“She surprised me too.”
Eddie looked toward the factory.
“Think we’ll be seeing more women asking for that?”
Vivian glanced at the hand clippers resting on her station.
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
Frank smiled.
“Well, as long as Nash keeps hiring women, I suppose we’ll keep finding out what they want done with their hair.”
Vivian laughed.
“And sometimes they won’t know until they’re sitting in the chair.”
A LETTER HOME
That Sunday, Lillian sat at Eleanor’s kitchen table writing another letter to Thomas.
She told him about her work at Nash and how much she was enjoying her new surroundings.
Then she came to the subject she had been avoiding.
My dear Thomas,
You may remember that I told you how many of the women working at Nash have been cutting their hair short.
Well, I finally decided to do something about mine.
I went to a barbershop near the factory where a very nice young woman named Vivian works. At first, I only intended to have a bob. Then I decided to have it cut like Eleanor’s.
But I didn’t stop there.
Thomas, I have had my entire head shaved.
I know you must be terribly surprised reading that, especially since you always admired my long hair. But I want you to know that I made the decision myself, and I am quite happy with it.
I have saved one of my long braids, and I intend to keep it until you come home.
Perhaps by then my hair will have grown back. Or perhaps I’ll decide to keep it short.
I suppose we’ll find out together.
All my love,
Lillian
She folded the letter and placed it in an envelope.
Then she looked toward the mirror hanging beside the kitchen doorway.
Her smooth head still seemed unfamiliar.
She smiled and rubbed it once more.
Only a few weeks earlier, she had been working at the tannery in Fond du Lac, wondering how she would manage while her husband was away.
Now she was employed at Nash, living with her cousin, earning better wages, and discovering an independence she had never expected.
And somewhere along the way, she had found the courage to make a change she once thought impossible.
Outside, the streets of Kenosha were busy with automobile workers.
Across from the factory, Frank’s Barbershop continued serving the men and women whose lives were being transformed by the war.
For Lillian Mercer, the journey from Fond du Lac had brought considerably more than a new job.
It had brought an entirely new beginning.

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