Aunt Leona

     Lavonne told us this story when the family women were gathered for one of our weekend retreats years ago.  Aunt Leona was such a lady in the best sense of that image.  She was gracious and kind, had a natural poise, was wise and calm, always ready to listen....a woman we all looked up to.  She wasn't with us on this weekend because she was living in the nursing home and was physically and mentally unable.  We missed her very much.

     Lavonne:  "Sunday morning in our house when I was a girl was pretty hectic.  Dad was usually away holding revivals in distant churches.  So Mom got all of us kids ready for church by herself.  We dawdled as kids do.  Ruthie primped.  I couldn't find one patent leather shoe. Ralph snuck outside to play.  All the normal kid stuff. When Mom finally got us all shined up and packed up in the car,she told us to stay put, that she needed to go back in and check on the Sunday dinner roast in the oven. By that time the tone of her voice told us she was on her last nerve. 

     At first we waited quietly, then after a few minutes, not so much.  After another few minutes, I started getting antsy and decided to go see what was keeping her. In the kitchen my Mom was lying on the floor!  But she was laughing.....and laughing...so hard she was crying!  Her prim little pillbox hat with its mini veil was askew over one ear, one shoe was across the room, and her dress was twisted around her, her lacy slip showing.  She saw my worried face over her and patted my arm.to tell me she was okay.  She had slipped on some grease and gone down hard. When she  wasn't hurt, it struck her funny and after the stress of the morning she couldn't stop laughing."

 That picture of Aunt Leona is precious to me...one I have cherished. Even when events seemed to trip her up she could see the funny side and laugh.  Even at herself. 

THE WAR

by Faith

There was the proverbial gang to play with on Washington Boulevard when we lived in Lake Odessa in the 50's.

There was McCaul Farm kids.  Betty, Neil, Roxy and a baby (who's name escapes me).  Their farm situated kitty-corner to our house was a wonderful place to play.  Haylofts, silo's, woods, cow paths, fences, animals and tons of activity.

 

Then there was the girl directly across the street.  Her name was Lois and she was the "lady" of the neighborhood...always clean.  Her room was a showcase of pristinely kept dolls and buggys and beds.  I had no idea one could keep their room so spotless.  Sharon always told me she felt bad for Lois' doll, like they were never touched and loved.  Lois was considered part of the gang, but, to tell you the truth, I don't remember really playing with her.

Down the street lived a boy who I thought was the "hearthtrob" of the gang....David Schied.  When we played "romance", I always wanted David to be my boyfriend.  It never worked out because Roxanne would have been left with her snot-nosed brother, Neil. Oh no, I had at take Neil.  I didn't like him so much for that game.

Well, one day, Roxy's Betsy Wetsy doll came up missing.  Since Roxy's doll was exactly like MY Betsy Wetsy, and both dolls were usually naked, Roxy immediately claimed my doll as hers.  Had we kept them fully clothed like Lois, there would not have been any quarrel.

Of course I protested, loudly.  "That's MY doll!"  "No, that's MY doll!"  Valerie backed me up.  Then Neil backed up Roxy.  War broke out.  The rest of the gang  could probably care less who's doll it was but got got caught up in taking sides.  At first we argued, then we split up into camps where we would plan our next attacks.  Most of the attacks were verbal, but some included stone throwing.  We were sooo mad.  I think the war was settled by sheer exhaustion, lack of attention span.  It felt like it went on for weeks, but, looking back, it probably lasted a day and a half.  All I know is that we all were soon back in the woods together, nailing boards together to make a clubhouse.

  But, IT WAS MY DOLL!!!

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George's Birth

From Reminiscing and Rambling 1992, by Doriene Demond (Nanny)

October 30,1930. "The evening before Halloween, Erma Gardner came to pick me up to go to her house for a party she was having, and invited me to spend the night with her. It was a nice party,--games, food--the works, but I didn't feel much like joining in with the festivities. They did get me to participate in a not-too-active game in which each one chose a slip of paper from a plate and read the fortune. Mine said "At midnight you will drop your coat of mail."

We all laughed, but after they left about 10:30pm I was enduring such stomach cramps that Erma insisted on timing them. she found they were consistently 10 minutes apart, so, taking no chances she also insisted on taking me to the hospital which was located on Euclid and 94Th Streets (Cleveland,OH). So after stopping at the bakery to inform Joe, we arrived about midnight. I had been going to the clinic there for several month for checkups. The CBI (Cleveland Bible Institute} students were allowed free examinations and delivery. One never knew who the doctor would be but we really got excellent care.
I guess they didn't have much room so was put into the delivery room. Nothing happened so about 10:30 am I got to walk around for an hour or sol In the late afternoon the doctor (a real nice, sympathetic young intern said, Pretty rugged, isn't it?" He seemed shocked when I replied, Oh yes, but its worth it all" and said, "Man, we don't hear that very often here."
Baby George made his appearance at 6pm weighing 6lb 3oz and 19 inches long.
In those days they had strange and strict rules for care and kept me in bed for 10 day before letting me sit up in bed, then only let me go home the 14Th day. Quite a session for free delivery and hospital care! According to instructions, Joe had to carry me up the 3 flights of stairs to our apartment on returning home.
George only weighed 5 1/2 lbs when they dismissed me from the hospital and I hardly knew what to do with him. My mind was set at ease when a visiting nurse who came the week or so later said as she watched me bathing him in the kitchen sink, "Don't be so afraid. You can hurt yourself before you can hurt him."
Being alone at night was a bit scary because that was the time he opted to cry with the colic. I finally decided to put warm water in a hot water bottle (good thing we had one), place it on my lap and drape him over it. That usually did the trick. We couldn't afford formula, so was happy to be able to nurse him for 9 months."

IN WHICH Aunts Shirley and Valerie Run Away

IN WHICH Aunts Shirley and Valerie Run Away

(As requested by Par Jason)

Faith and Val had to help me remember this story, so when we were together basking in the sunshine and love at Eileen's, they told it to me in tandem.
It all started one day when Mama made Shirley and Valerie, about 5 and 9 years old, clean their room. They had serious play planned so they were really mad. It just wasn't fair. As they worked (there was no way out of it) they became more convinced that they were made to work harder than any child should be made to. In fact, their whole lives had become intolerable in this house. There was nothing to do but run away. They knew they couldn't get far in the daylight so they decided to get up in the middle of the night and sneak out of the house when everybody was asleep.
So they got out the small cardboard suitcase and and hunted up stuff to put in it. They couldn't remember what, but Faith thought she would have brought a doll. They tucked it back under the bed and got on with their plans.
Plan 1. They would definitely live in the backroom of Scheid's furniture Store. David Schied was a boy who lived on our block who's family own the small store downtown. Their were windows in the back looking onto the street and we girls loved looking in on the extra beds, chairs, and tables--even lamps--stored there. It would be a perfectly comfortable place to live! And the Sheid's were nice people and wouldn't mind.
Plan 2. They would be able to get food at the meat market downtown. Our brother Paul was a 16 year old apprentice but it seemed like he owned it to us. Paul would give food to them or they could just get it for themselves. The more they thought about the steaks and candy Paul brought home to eat himself (never shared, I add bitterly), the more they liked this part pf the plan.
You may wonder how two little girls who worked so hard and never played during the day and who had never heard of an alarm clock would be able to wake up in the night. Hmmm.
Sooo....in the morning they got up and forgot all about their plan to run away.
For Aunts Faith and Valerie this ended the story. But I remember more of the story:
Days, maybe weeks later, our bedroom started to have a certain ripe odor. Cleaning Saturday came and went and the smell got worse, not better. Mama began to inspect and suspect a mouse had died in the wall. She pulled out the bed and went through all the toys, dirty clothes, and stuff under it. Hmmm. The suitcase reeked. She opened it up to find a rotten piece of chicken along with a missing doll, cheese, an apple and other such provisions long forgotten. The last thing I remember was her hollering, "SHIRLEY!", " VALERIE!"

Nanny tells about the fall of 1929

Nanny's "Reminiscing and Rambling"

Joe and I were married Feb. 10th, 1929 in Iowa. I had been called home {from Cleveland Bible college} the first of Nov. to care for mom.who was very ill, so I did not get to graduate from CBI in May, 1930 as planned.Work was scarce in Cleveland, but, in the fall of 1930 we went back, and I started my last year in Oct., and, after finding some work, Joe returned to school in Feb. 1931 to finish the second semester of his second year.
We lived in a furnished apartment above Mrs. Lipske's (she lived on the first floor and cooked noon meals for those living close by) on 33rd Street 2 or 3 blocks from school. The living room served also as a bedroom. There was a good sized kitchen with cook stove, cupboards, kitchen table and chairs, and had a window on the outside of which was built a large "box affair" in which we put food to keep cool (frozen most of the winter) --our icebox, nonetheless. I had use of a conventional washer in the basement, of course, getting permission each time of use. We shared the bathroom with another Bible School couple who lived in the adjacent apartment.
........There were 2 or 3 couples attending CBI who were expecting an increase in their families and students were questioning, "Who's going to be next?"It wasn't long before they founnd out.
..........Then Joe's folks sent us, so graciously, a large smoked ham and a strip of bacon which Dad Speas had cured himself.....

Par Jason requests a story.

I knew it would happen. Jason finally wants me to retell a story he liked as a kid. It's the one about Aunt Val and Aunt Faith running away from home.
I'll put it up as soon as I research some of the finer points. If it goes up in print, Jammer, I can't just make it up as usual. :)

Excerpt from "Stories for Eleanor"

Momba Tell Me a Story

When Eleanor Providence Kolasinski was 3 she began wanting to hear stories of my childhood. Over and over. My most happy and vivid memories were of our family in the 1950's when we lived in Lake Odessa so those stories became her favorites, and of these was the fire story.
Disclaimer* These are my memories...not to be confused with those of any other member of the family or neighbors.
We lived on Washington Blvd., a truly "kid street" on the edge of town. I was about 10, Shirley 8, and Val 5. Our house was a 2 story frame with 3 upstairs bedrooms. Shirley and slept in the foyer bedroom in a 3/4 sized bed like spoons in a drawer. Valerie slept with Eileen in her teen front bedroom but played in ours. Val and Shirl loved to play under the bed and this one day they didn't have enough light under there due to the blankets being pulled down to make walls for their pretend house. One of them got an idea to get candles under there and light them...probably Val (I'm thinking)....here I would pause for a little description of Valerie's bold and imaginative personality and Shirley's proclivity to go along with whatever sounded fun. proclivity?....
Anyway, it worked great and they probably played under there for another 5 minutes before being distracted by any number of available things to do. In the meantime, I was taking a bath. I even remember the new lily-of-the-valley baths salts...so grown up, wasn't I? 
Okay, so here are Valerie and Shirley playing across the street at McCall's farm when they heard a fire siren. Wow! it was close....closer and closer...now we can hear the truck engine, too...hey guys, it's on our street!...come on, let's go see!!!...Look it's at the Klingman's...no.. OUR house!!!...Val and Shirl get really quiet and steal looks at each other....the candles?...ohnoohnoohno.....hide! The other kids ran to our house and my sisters lay down in the ditch.....not here,..we. are. not. here. We are going to get spankings. Crying now.
Meanwhile, Eileen drives into the drive right after the fire truck and comes flying into the bathroom yelling, "Sharon, get out! The house is on fire!" My first thoughts were."It can't be! The McCall boys will see me in a wet bathrobe with my hair wet! It's the worst thing ever to happen to me!" But being so mature I really say, "Eileen, don't let those boys see me or I can't come out!"
So here come the firemen with the hose and they run right up the stairs because that's where the black smoke is coming from.  Next thing the soggy mattress is flying out of the upstairs front window onto the porch roof and bounces to the lawn.  I guess Mama WAS there somewhere because next thing I remember firemen are giving her not quite a lecture, standing in the yard, about candles under that bed. I can hear from behind the grape arbor. Poor Mama.
Having taken long enough time to have the whole town come to our front yard, the fire dept. left. Our family slunked into the stinky sooty house and by nightfall only a few neighbors were still on the lawn talking.
Don't remember what kind of punishment Shirley and Valerie got...but I know they must have got one. I'm thinking they got killed, then lectured, then spanked, then prayed over and made to go to the altar next Sunday, then killed again. The End

*I think there is a similar story involving an Easy Bake(tm) oven. Faith? Val?

Tigers and Lions and Bugs! Oh No!

Tigers and Lions and Bugs! Oh No!

A catastrophe occurred while Sunshine, Mary Sharon, Eleanor, and Kepler were camping in the Tourist Park in Marquette a couple of weeks ago. They discovered that Mary and EP had lice! They think Eleanor's shiney brown hair was innocently growing toward her waist when it did one too many sassy bounces off a train seat or something when she was traveling in Chicago with Vicky the week before. The kicker is that Eleanor starts her first year of middle school in a week! Last time she had lice she was starting kindergarten and couldn't get rid of them until all her golden curls had to be shaved off. She went to school with a little lace beany on. Can you see it? Well, needless to say that won't happen again, but the family gathered around the campfire after some
pretty nasty shampooing. Mary and Eleanor cut their hair to shoulder length and Sunshine shaved his in solidarity. They decided to pretend they were fugitives...changing appearances and leaving the campground clandestinely. They wished they had some old ID to burn with the hair in the fire.
So this week they are going around with Vaseline and tea tree oil in their tight braids. Kepler's caregiver says little black children never have lice....their hair is always oiled and braided.

Eileen told me that when she was a girl in second grade with long black braids..aww...she got lice at school. Mom left her with Geneva's mother, Wilma York for an afternoon and Wilma decided to fix it.
She took Eileen to the barn, poured kerosene in a bucket, and dipped Eileen's hair in it...all of it. E. said it didn't hurt and didn't get in her eyes. And she never had lice again. Boy was Mom ever mad, though. I mean, really.

The Ties that Bind

 The Ties That Bind

Hi Family,
I love to tell family stories. About the time Mary Sharon and Jason were teens I was coming to a time in my life that I realized how much I needed those stories and told them any any chance I had. They began to tease me by mixing them up. They would have Uncle Floyd and his black angus cattle in a story about Opal Houghton taking us "little girls" Easter dress shopping. I'd fuss, "You kids are going to appreciate them when you get to be my age" which could bring on more teasing about age.
One day after an extended family gathering for some holiday, Mark, mused, "You know, you women have so much fun together and sometimes I'd rather hang out with you in the kitchen than watch football with the guys. Why don't you go on a retreat together for a whole weeken. stories flew around so fast and we laughed so much ...well, you know.
Just this summer, Eileen and Faith went one afternoon to enjoy Marilyn who had come to visit. Sitting around Beverly's table they found themselves telling stories about our dad that the younger women had never heard. They gasped, dropped their jaws, laughed and cried. The stories were theirs.
On the way to Bev's, Matt's wife Ruth confessed to Faith that she had always thought her own family to be pretty boring. "Your family never runs out of stories to tell and I have nothing to say. But today, when it's time to tell stories, I finally have one I can tell, too. so let me know when it's time." So sure enough, after food was put on Eileen was reminded of something that happened at dad's funeral and started to tell it when Faith burst in and said that before they got started on dad that Ruth had a story...her very first sharing of a really good family story of her own. Well, everyone was so happy that they put their elbows on the table in unison, bugged their beautiful eyes, and said together, "Tell all". The story was great. It was so good that they decided she won....before they even got to Eileen's story...at least for the day. And Ruth also won because she learned the secret that all families have great stories. They just need telling.
So this blog is dedicated to the simple and amazing stories of our family. And a special thank you to David Bowen and Melissa Price Elenbass for this latest inspiration. Sharon

Tomorrow: Head Lice:Pediculus Humanus Capitus