It started with a simple question. Deborah Schroeder mentioned she met her second husband at a PWP dance. “Parents Without Partners,” she clarified when she saw my questioning look. As she recounted the story of meeting Ronin, the charismatic president of her local PWP chapter, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. Their first dance might have been a bit clumsy, leading to Deborah accidentally twirling into another person’s arms, but their second dance, a few months later, was pure magic. They moved together effortlessly, like a real-life Fred and Ginger, and have now built over three decades of marriage.
Listening to Deborah, I was transported back to my own childhood. Growing up in the 80s and 90s, “Parents Without Partners” was a familiar phrase. My mom, a single parent, often took me to PWP events. I have hazy but warm memories of picnics at Eisenhower Park and summer camp weekends by a Catskills lake. Thinking back, PWP was simply a part of our lives. Yet, as years passed, the name faded from my vocabulary. I realized I had never truly discussed its significance with my mom, beyond a few chuckles about youthful mishaps at those lake weekends.
“I always leave my StoryTerrace interviews feeling lucky.”
My conversation with Deborah felt instantly comfortable, like catching up with an old friend. Even before we met, I knew we shared something. A brief pre-interview note mentioned her love for outings with her girlfriends. Community and female friendships resonated deeply with me too.
Sitting at her kitchen table, over two engaging days, Deborah generously shared pieces of her life. I learned about Portland’s Rose Parade, a cherished local tradition, and her near miss at becoming a Rose City princess in her youth. She opened up about the realities of raising three boys as a single mother, her unwavering dedication to their well-being shining through every story. She also reminisced about managing a women’s fashion shop with her mother, later taking the reins herself, and let me in on Seattle’s fantastic fabric markets. Laughter flowed easily between us.
Each StoryTerrace interview leaves me feeling enriched, but this one felt particularly special. I gained a new perspective on Portland’s history through Deborah’s eyes. As a mother myself, I felt fortunate to absorb her wisdom on love and motherhood, especially from the unique vantage point of a single parent. “My boys were my life,” she emphasized. From ensuring they received the best education to cheering them on at every sports game, she poured her heart into their thriving.
My own mother, juggling work as a bowling alley waitress and single motherhood, mirrored that dedication. These conversations don’t always happen, but sometimes, a genuine connection sparks with an interviewee. Deborah and I clicked. Just as I was wishing for more time with her, she warmly invited my family for dinner as I was leaving. It wasn’t surprising; Deborah exuded warmth, invitation, and generosity.
Later that day, I knew I needed to make a call. “Mom,” I began when she answered, “I realized I never asked you much about PWP. Tell me more about it.”
