Emily Post Goes Wild

I've decided that my sisters are just too good. I must brag.

So I’ll start with the eldest. We’ll call her Lilu, as that is what my sons call her. That is her on the left, looking lovely.

And for the sake of economy, I will offer only three anecdotes that will give you all a sampling of the breadth of her greatness.

The Classic Beauty



Lilu is a lovely girl, yes. But it’s more than that. She’s got something else, too. Some people call it charisma. Some people call it ‘that spark.’ Well, she has it—in spades.

She stops traffic, literally.

On a trip to Italy with my father when she was 21, she walked with him down a busy street on their way to dinner. She wore a little black dress.

A bus of Italian men driving past stopped in the middle of traffic and all the men moved to the side of the bus which allowed them the best vantage point from which to appreciate her ‘spark.’ God, I love Italy.

My father told me the story. “She didn’t even notice,” he laughed. Like I said—IN SPADES.

The Model Soldier

Lilu modeled in high school. Mostly runway due to her height (and charisma). When she was 17, a scout from Ford Models contacted her and my parents asking if she would come to New York. My mother declined on her behalf, politely. Lilu did not mind. It was more of an amusement for her anyway, she said.

She was more interested in a grand adventure. One that involved more ‘seeing’ than being seen. So she joined the Air Force when she was 20.

She came home and announced to my father, himself a veteran, that she had signed the papers. Wish you could have seen the look. It was not pride. “Why?” he asked. “I saw Private Benjamin and thought it looked fun. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” she said.

And so she went off in a very tiny plane surrounded by large young men. She was grinning and waving. They were not. Quite a mix.

And she traveled and had great adventures and met a wonderful man whom she married. He's a champ. And so patient handling all her 'charisma.'


And after five years serving her country with high praise and honors, the anthrax vaccine began to circulate. And she worked in the pharmacy. And she saw what was happening to women who took it. It was horrible, she said. The most damning evidence against it was written on the vaccine itself, in very small print: Not proven to not cause birth defects, it said.

My sister is lion-hearted. And, she had not yet had children. So that was that. When it was her turn on the rotation to begin the eight-month series of shots, she said No Thank You, ever the polite girl. She was only in the military for six more months, she argued. Wouldn’t even be able to finish the series, let alone be transferred to a high-risk place that warranted that sort of preventative action.

So they took away her stripes, one at a time, and with it her pay, each time she refused. They would not kick her out, but they reduced her pay to the point that she could barely survive. So she decided to ‘encourage’ them to kick her out.

She went to the pharmacy one morning, sat in front of her computer, and drafted an email warning all women not to take it. She gave specific examples of what it was doing to their bodies. And then she sent it, to the entire base.

Within five minutes she found herself in the top guy’s office. What do they call him? Colonel? And she was shaking, but steel-faced.

And he walked in and shut the door. And he said, “Are you determined to not take the vaccine?”

And she said, “Yes, sir. I am.”

And he said, “Okay. When I sign these papers you will be dishonorably discharged and lose all rights to veteran benefits (including the free tuition for medical school on which she had been counting and the VA loan for a home). Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“Okay.” And he signed.

And he told her she could leave. And as she did, he added, “Off the record, I wouldn’t have taken it either.”

And she smiled.


The Etiquette Evangelist

Lilu did go to college. And she paid for it, with no regret. And now she is a middle school teacher living in the mountains of Northern Idaho, surrounded by a backdrop that complements her own mix of strength, majesty and beauty.

And she teaches a gratuitous class on etiquette to those young people. And though her colleagues find it ‘quaint’ and ‘antiquated,’ she just smiles and pushes on with her cause.

And why do you think she has a heart for such a cause? Because she wants to bring a love of fine things paired with ferver and knowledge to all. Because she is all of those things—in spades.



I dedicate this song to my sister Lilu today. It is one of her favorites, and suits her so well. . .