CHAPTER 2. SCHENECTADY

Upon graduation from college, Walter accepted a job offer from General Electric and in July 1941 took up residence at Lake Lodge on Ballston Lake, New York, a few miles north of Schenectady. It would appear that his job did not begin until October, when he moved to an apartment on Bedford Road, in Schenectady. His wedding to Arline Pillisch was set for April 11, 1942. Before returning to St. Louis, the 22-year old was apparently homesick based on the letter he wrote to his mother.

Dear Mother, 

Being away from home for a year is highly touted as a great experience for a boy in teaching him to cope with the responsibilities of life. Admittedly, I have learned quite a few facts, particularly concerning human behavior, but I really don’t feel changed noticeably from last year in St. Louis. And most of the things I have noticed here in Schenectady recall conclusions that you had expressed before. The fundamental one is the same that struck Sammy too: most people are too embroiled in their own welfare to give much consideration to the general rightness of things. You easily make acquaintances among strangers, but genuine friendship requires time to develop. Please don’t think from this that the going has been rough at all, but just getting back among St. Louis’s friends is going to be a great experience. 

Love, Walter

Now, as the train carried him home, his mind drifted not just to family and friends but also to the biggest event awaiting him—his wedding to Arline Pillisch. The return trip to Schenectady would take him and his new bride through Niagara Falls, a fitting honeymoon stop.

On April 8, 1942, twenty-two year old Walter Evans carried his bags down through the boarding area of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad station, his thoughts undoubtedly turned homeward. That he missed family and the “old gang” was evident in the opening paragraph of the letter he had written a week before. His homecoming itinerary was tightly packed. Arriving at Union Station at 12:45 p.m. on Thursday, he planned to be "leading the pack down the stretch," as he put it in his letter. That afternoon, he hoped to relive a familiar ritual—biking the two miles from his childhood home on Nashville Avenue to Washington University, where he would visit two beloved engineering professors, Roy Glasgow and Frank Bubb. That evening, he and his mother were invited to dinner at the Pillisch home, though Walter had asked Arline to tell her mother not to "outdo herself" in preparing the meal. Perhaps after dinner, there would be time to watch home movies with friends—the “old gang” from St. Louis.

Friday would be a whirlwind of wedding preparations: securing the marriage license, renting his tuxedo, picking up Arline’s wedding dress, purchasing train tickets, and meeting with the minister before the rehearsal dinner.

If the weather cooperated, he envisioned spending part of Saturday—his wedding day—taking a quiet drive with his mother in the family’s "jolly old Oldsmobile," revisiting the outskirts of St. Louis. He acknowledged the wear on their tires, given that domestic tire production had been redirected for military use, but the nostalgia of seeing familiar sights was worth a few "precious miles."