A strong memory from my childhood is of being beautifully dressed in a blue wool coat with a black velvet collar, black patent leather dress shoes with white bobby socks that all matched with my younger sister. We were in San Francisco with our beautifully dressed mother, Pat Welsh, in a turban hat that matched her chic blue ensemble and our handsome father in his elegant suit. We were in front of a large flower stand kitty-corner from the St. Francis Hotel. Daddy walked up to a lady and bought us each a beautiful gardenia to pin on our coats.
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