The Year They Invented Frozen Lemonade

In the afternoons of Linda Winkelman’s

“young womanhood,” as her mother described her child’s budding pubescence, the years from nine to thirteen, Linda sought solace from the radio, particularly 1010 WINS’ afternoon personality for whom she hoped to become an acceptable offering.

Pete Garland was the announcer who came on just before Jack Lacy and her mother’s favorite, Murray the K. Linda took comfort in the molassesey voice and sophisticated humor of the afternoon disc jockey. The Pete Garland Cat Exchange added a unifying dimension to Linda Winkelman’s young life.

Linda tried to work up the courage to call in. She even invented a cat, Conan, whom she could say would be looking for a good home because of her mother’s allergies.

She sent away for a signed picture. New York radio stations nurtured the images of their stars, and it had been returned with a short handwritten note from the announcer’s wife.

Thank you so much for your interest in Pete’s program. We are pleased to have such a loyal listener to the Pete Garland Cat Exchange. There was a short bio: he had attended the London School of Dramatic Arts and used to work at a Cleveland radio station before coming to New York.

Best, Pete and Annie Garland.

Linda Winkelman called up once the following year.

“Hello?”

“Is this the Cat Exchange?”

“Oh. Hi there. I’m Linda, Pete’s wife. We don’t do the Cat Exchange any more. Pete’s moving over to WNEW. But I’m sure he’ll be starting it up again. You have a cat problem?”

Well, then. Now there was a Linda it seemed. Linda Winkelman, now aged twelve, was secretly pleased. The Annie of the note had exited. If she hadn’t been an acceptable virgin sacrifice at least someone who shared her name had.

“No, I just called to say that Conan had died. I thought Pete would like to know.” Linda replaced the telephone in its cradle on the kitchen wall.