Summer of '69(126)

My twin brother, Eric Hilderbrand, and I were born at Boston Hospital for Women on July 17, 1969. The week we were born was one of the most eventful weeks of the twentieth century. The Apollo 11 mission launched the day before my brother and I launched. (It was always my intention to include my own birth in this book, but in the end, I decided I wanted the twins born on the day of the moon launch, so the Whalen twins, Genevieve and George, are one day older than Eric and me.) The weekend after we were born was the weekend of the Chappaquiddick incident, which was of enormous interest to the nation but even more so to residents of Massachusetts. The atmosphere of the country in the summer of 1969 was tumultuous: Nixon was a new president, the war in Vietnam was raging right along with protests against that war, civil rights and women’s lib were hot topics, and Woodstock was planned as a tribute to the nation’s youth, who wanted peace, love, and rock ’n’ roll.

Within my own family that summer, there was also uncertainty, unrest, and excitement. My mother didn’t find out she was having twins until she was seven months along. (She was, like Blair, “just so big,” with only one dress that fit.) My father was gravely ill and had to undergo surgery at Mass General in mid-July, which was serious, but everyone believed he would be home and on the mend by the time the twins made their appearance. He did make it through surgery just fine…but not in time for our birth.

My mother went into labor at three in the morning on July 17—four weeks before her due date—and, as family legend goes, my grandmother, then forty-nine (and today a robust ninety-nine), ran every red light in downtown Boston to get my mother to the hospital. My mother’s obstetrician was hung over (too much celebrating the moon launch), and because twin births were so rare, he was asked if a class of forty student nurses could watch the delivery. (My mother was in twilight sleep and not really in a position to protest.)

I was born first, at 10:04 a.m., and all of the student nurses bet that the second would also be a girl. When my brother entered the world at 10:10, it was to an enthusiastic round of applause. And you know what? He’s a great guy, an exceptionally wonderful father, and (along with my other siblings) my best friend in all the world. He has earned that applause many, many times over. This novel is my birthday present to him. It was Eric’s suggestion that I someday write about the year and circumstances of our birth.

I did the best I could. I beg my kind readers’ indulgence for the places where I changed facts and circumstances—on Nantucket, on the Vineyard, and in the country as a whole—in the service of my narrative. In this novel, I strive to bring you not empirical truth, but emotional truth. I like to think Jessie would approve.



—Elin Hilderbrand, Nantucket, Massachusetts,

December 12, 2018