Louisville Magazine

JAN 2019

Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.

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50 LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 1.19 even know what Lifebuoy soap is. It's awful. It's industrial soap. It's the kind of soap that nobody that wants to smell good would ever use." What else do you remember about Louisville during that time? "What I remember about the city is very romantic. We lived outside the city limits. If mother wanted to go shop- ping, we had to walk from our house in Strathmoor Village about six blocks to Wallace Loop to catch a bus (or to Bowman Field) to catch a streetcar. I can still remember the smell of the streetcars, the oil that you smelled when you got in. It's just a very different smell. And the noise that it made. It was really, really noisier, just rumbling along these tracks. It's, you know, going" — Post makes a growling noise — "and it was so exciting to me. We took that all the way downtown and probably got off somewhere near Jefferson Street, which was not one-way in those days. People didn't have as many cars. And Ben Snyder's was a big department store, which had moderate and inexpensive stuff. ere were a lot of Jewish managers and they all played poker with my dad or bridge with my mother. We always went in there because they'd give her a deal, you know, they'd pick out something that was real- ly good or that they thought was a really good buy. My mother was a wonderful woman who was constitutionally unable to buy anything that wasn't marked down at least twice. Twice. She was the daughter of German immigrants from Terre Haute, Indiana. ey had the pot to pee in, period. And one day when I was grown — and Stewart's Dry Goods was the nicest store in Louisville in those days — she found a child's size-eight wool coat. No, eight was the price of it. It was $8. Kelly-green wool coat that was really a steal, and mother could not pass up steals. Nobody in the family wore that size. She brought it home, then she went down the street and rang doorbells to see if anybody on the street would use this coat. To say she was nuts is pushing it a little bit." Your father was in the wholesale business? "He sold stuff to dime stores. He had a place down on Main Street, Seventh and Main, and when I'd go down there as a girl, before they moved to 28th and Jefferson, and he had a freight elevator that had no sides and I'd get on there. I was scared to death. You're on this thing and it's moving and there's no enclosures. I was a little girl. It was terrifying! I had nightmares about that for years! I used to love to go down there because among the junk that they sold were huge gaudy rings with red glass in them that cost 98 cents. Oh, I thought they were gor- geous. And I think I sneaked one of them one day without telling anybody. I think I stole one of his rings. "I had a colorful child- hood. I had a colorful father. He loved me. When I took the ACLU job, it paid $10,000 a year. It's the hardest job in this city. I was not quite 50 because we had a 50th birthday party for me a couple years later. I had him meet me for lunch and we went to a place called Cunningham's (at Fifth and Breckinridge streets), which isn't there anymore, and I'm sitting across the table from him, and I said, 'Dad, I need $10,000 from you for the ACLU. You got me into this job, into this line of work, and I need help.' He gave it. And he gave me money all the time for the ACLU. I was expressing my father's feel- ings about not taking your government for granted, thinking it's gonna do good things, because my dad, as a German Jew, knew it wasn't always like that and I knew it too." What do you like to do for fun? "Movies! I wish they'd show some, dammit! I love the movies. When I was a little girl that was a big thing in my life. Every Saturday for 10 cents you went to the Bard eatre, which you probably never even heard of, on Bard- stown Road right where Bardstown and Taylorsville fork. It was built during the Second World War, of all things. It was the newest theater in Louisville. Oh, my god, we thought we'd died and gone to heaven. e Uptown, do you know where that was? at was on Bardstown Road and Eastern Parkway. Oh, the Vogue was great. e Vogue had foreign movies. But the Vogue meant you had to have a car to get there and we could walk to the Bard and we could take a bus to the Uptown. ere's a place in one of the shopping malls. I go there when my son takes me. I haven't seen anything lately that really curled my hair." Aside from having to carry this tube around, how do you feel? "Only got one lung, but it must be huge because — I get tired more easily, that's for sure, but I'm kind of amazed that it hasn't had more impact on me. e lung is gone and it took the cancer with it. And this" — Post rips off her oxygen tube — "is a fucking pain in the butt! First of all, nobody who uses one of these things is happy about announcing to anybody they meet, 'I'm not well! Did you notice I'm not exactly top drawer?' And especially if you've smoked, it's like, Oy, you did it! It's like, come on, leave me alone. I was a little girl then, what did I know? We live with most of our sins. "It's annoying that I feel so great and that this damn thing is gonna keep me from getting on a bike and taking a bike — I guess I could rig something up, but you know that may not be smart. My kids would move in on me if I got on a bike with oxygen." What kind of physical activity do you do? "Goin' up and down these stairs all the time. I used to do a lot of tai chi and did that until about six years ago. Tai chi's wonderful. I really recommend it. I used to be a runner, believe it or not. I used to go out, run five miles, come home and light a cigarette. And while I did that I thought, You dumb woman. Dumb woman. It's a terrible addiction, oh, my god. I don't really drink. I'll have a couple glasses of wine, that's it. Cigarettes. Sex would have been better! I never was fixed, though." Who's your best friend? "My very best friend died about 10 years ago. She grew up with me and we started in elementary school together, but she died. It happens. I've got a lot of really good friends. My niece, Julie (Kling), she's a very good friend and she's eons younger "Most people just glide along and that's perfectly understandable. But I was born at a time when it was all erupting in Europe. And I'm not a glider."

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