In the 1950s, that oft-ridiculed era when women all over the country were purportedly miserable, marriage proposals were so common women had to turn down several potential husbands before deciding on the right one.

That was certainly the case for my mother, who was born in 1930. As a young girl, I would find countless love letters from Charlie, George, Frank, and others whose names I can’t recall, that all contained marriage proposals. They were stored in my mother’s memory box, and I would sift through them and marvel at what it was like to have so many men pining for you.