June

It would come as no surprise if there were men walking around today with "June" tattooed on their arms instead of "Mom." For millions of viewers I have grown to become the quintessential American mother. If the Garden of Eden was starting anew as a suburb, I would be the ideal Ever - pretty, tireless wife, mother and homemaker. To be sure, I consider herself a fulfilled woman according to the most traditionally conservative American view of womanhood: a girl goes to school to find a good provider, gets married, sets up his home, bears his children and his problems at the sacrifice of any greater ambition of her own. I am the homebody extraordinaire, allowed to fly from the next only long enough to do the family shopping, attend school and church meetings and visit relatives and friends. Even my hobbies are home oriented - like crocheting and making curtains. Like my husband, my childhood days are only sketchily filled in by the scripts. I grew up in East S. Louis, attended boarding school and spent summers with my maiden Aunt Martha. Thus (good word usage here) I come by my very eastern finishing school view of life honestly, striving to carry out proud - though undefined - Broson family traditions. My greatest honor came at summer camp where I won a blue bathing cap in a swimming meet. My reading tends toward Little Women and Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall. By my teen years I had arrived in the Mayfield area where I met Ward Cleaver when he was sixteen. We both attended State. He was definitely the best student between the two of us. I had little work experience, although I type competently and I did volunteer at the USO during World Ware II. The kitchen is the central core of my life. Although a spotless range and oven have replaced the hearth, I still prepare two elaborate hot meals each day, three on weekends with tender loving care. My coffeepot is ever ready for my husband and there’s milk, cookies, fruit and often cake for my boys when they come home from school.