Aunt Ila and Uncle Bert and the BertIla Ranch

When we moved to California it was a regular vacation to drive to Santa Cruz
and visit with the Kearns, who we called Aunt and Uncle. They were not
really our Aunt and Uncle. Ila was the neice of my step grandmother, Carrie
Bowman McIntre Smith.
Uncle Bert had built a log cabin up in the mountains above Santa Cruz back
in the 1920's. He had worked with the WPA during the depression and had
been part of a crew that built the Grand Cooley Dam. We used to love to
listen to him tell stories about those days. He always wore a hat, and long
sleeved shirts, and smoked a pipe. He was a grand old fella. They had goats
and he would go down in the morning and evening and milk the goats. I did
not like the milk, but Dad thought it was great. One feature of the kitchen
was a window that had been a mirror. Uncle Bert had cleaned all the silver
off the back, made a frame and put it in the wall of the kitchen right next to
the back door.
Aunt Ila had an unusual stove. Half of it was electric for cooking in the summer
and the other half was wood burning for cooking and heating in the winter.
She was a wonderful cook. One thing I remember most is that she saved just
about everything. She kept and strained her bacon grease, and used it to
make her pie dow. You never tasted a better pie in your whole life. They had
all kinds of fruit trees and she made fruit pies every time we were there. She
canned so they had fruit year round.
They had a large water tower outside the back door that supplied their home
with running water, however for the first few years we went there they did not
have a bath room in the cabin. They used the "out house". Under the water
tower was a cooler where they kept their fruit and root vegetables. They had
a freezer later on so they could store more food longer.
Uncle Bert finally installed a water heater and built on a bathroom. That was
the coldest room I have ever been in. Aunt Ila didn't like to use it. When we
went there, she gave in for us. When we first went there, we took a bath in
a large wash tub. I guess that was the way she had always lived on the farm
back in Ohio, so it wasn't unusual, but for us kids, it was strange.
We could take the 22 rifle and shoot when we were there. We kids thought
that was wonderful. I got poison oak every time I went up there. It was on
the hills and even in their yard. Didn't seem to bother the boys, but it was
a real trial for me.
I can remember we went there when the Worlds Fair was in San Francisco
I think that was in 1939. I got sick and had to stay at the cabin with Aunt Ila
while Dad, Mom and the boys went to the Fair, I felt robbed.
Aunt Ila had an old upright piano and she would play the old World War One
songs and we would sing. There was only one bedroom in the cabin, so we
either had to sleep on the floor, or in the guest house in the yard, down by
the garage. It was a small one room cabin with a bed. Nothing was built to
code. We had to use carosine lamps most of the time. Uncle Bert didn't
wire the place. In fact the cabin they lived in didn't have electricity when we
first started visiting. That would have been in about 1936.
One of the things that I loved about going there were the local gatherings
and pot lucks they would have. Down the hill they had a social hall and on
certain Saturdays they would come from all around and have a
Social. There was plenty of good food and desserts. They would
play games and dance. Well it was a real old time party. Everyone was
friendly and we had such fun. I don't imagine there are any such things
going on up there these days.
When the earthquake of 1998 hit there, the whole side of the mountain
where the cabin was, fell off and the property was lost. Sad to think that
so much history is gone. I remember the red wood trees that were on the
ranch and the fun we had getting burls to bring home and watch grow. I
have such great memories of the times we went there. In fact I think that
Paul and Dawn enjoyed their visits there. I know Jay sure liked it. The
drive was so lovely, and I am reminded a lot of the road when I drive out
to Dawn and Gregs place. There is one spot along that drive that is so
like what we went through on our way to Granite Creek Road. How we
hated the drive after we left the highway. It was near inpassable in
winter as they never paved it.
It was on a trip to visit that Granny and Grand dad Smith had their
accident, and Dad was killed. Dad always liked to go up, and after Uncle
Bert passed away, he liked to spend time and help with repairs and to
fix things Aunt Ila couldn't do herself. She was a resourceful old gal,
but she was getting older and just couldn't manage everything like she
once had.
Childhood memories are wonderful. Especially those that were fun and
so different than what we did at home. BertIla Ranch was so rustic and
rural. I don't believe there is a place left like it anywhere today.
Written this 12th day of February 2009

The boys smashed my right index finger in the car door

I always said that Ronald did it on purpose. As I recall, I had just had my
small pox vaccination and my left arm was pretty swollen and sore. I was
about 3 or 4 then. We came back from some place in the car. Being the
little sister, I was slow getting out. Ron slammed the door before I got my
hand all the way out and my index finger was pinned in the car door. I let
out a scream, and someone, I don't recall who finally came and released
my poor little finder. Well naturally the thing was purple and bleeding. It
healed after I lost the fingernail. The result is the finger was pretty strange
looking from the first knucle to the fingernail. I hated it, but there was not
a thing I could do about it. The nail was flat on one side.
When Paul was about 12 or so, we had the Hillman at the time, he may
have been older. We stopped some place for him to get something. The
car was a four door. It was a hot day and I had my hand out the window.
When Paul slammed the car door - you guessed it, he caught that same
finger in the back door. I screamed again, and he ran back and opened
the door. The finger was bleeding and the cuticle was torn pretty badly.
Of course I lost the nail, but this time it wasn't as flat on one side, but it
seems to have shaped up a bit better. The cuticle didn't grow back right,
but I don't think most people notice it. At least I can grow a nail on that
finger.
Moral of the story - keep you fingers out of car doors, or at least have
boys around who aren't apt to close the door on them. Not that either
of my boys ment to do it.
Written this 12th day of February 2009

I Tie my Shoe Laces upside down?

Yes I do! You see Granny was left handed - when she taught me, I learned
upside down. They look funny to everyone else, but they are fine for me.

When Granny was in school, they would crack her hands with a ruler if she
used her left hand. It seems back then it was not good to be left handed.
Today everyone knows that left handed people are the artistic ones, they
use the right side of their brain. Well because she was stopped from using
her left hand to write, she learned to use herright hand, but did most other
things with her left hand. Paul does the same thing, but not for the same
reason, we never discouraged him, and I don't believe they did so at school
either. He writes right handed, but shoots a gun and throws a ball left handed.

Grand dad Charles Smith used both hands equally well. I think Greg does
too. I am not sure just what this means, but I know when I had my hand
operated on, I would sure liked to have been able to use my left hand to
write. I could eat fine, but writting was a problem. I got to where you could
read it, but just barely.
Written this 12th day of February 2009

As the Sands of the Sea

After setting at this computer for over a week now, I begin to understand just
what the LORD ment when he told Abraham he would have a posterity as
the sands of the sea. In doing genealogy, I learned, if we could trace our
line back 13 generations there would be a common ancester for all of us.
I have been fortunate to get back seven generatioins on some of the lines
and am amazed at just how many people that turns into. Lets think about
it! For each of us to be here, it has taken 4 people to accomplish. If you
mulitply each of those 4 the numbers begin to grow at a rapid rate.
On the 7th generation most of us will reach the 1500's and the Church will
not accept any information beyond that date. The reason, the records are
so hard to find, or read, that it takes very intense research to locate a true
connection.
This is awesome work. If we were able to gather everyone that has been, or
has had even the slightest part in our being here, well, it is beyond my thoughts,
or ability to appreciate.
For so many generations it has been the belief that this work was for the old
folks to do. However, as I see it, with the scope of what is before us, it will
take everyone who is now living to make sure that those who made it possible
for us to be here are found and placed in their proper order. It is no wonder
that the LORD has warned us that without our Ancestors we cannot be saved.
It is the linking of each generation that will make it possible for us to be an
Eternal Family. Will some be dropped from the line? Of course, but not by
being left out of our research. Those who choose to follow a different path or
life style, will of their own choice be dropped as a link in the Eternal Chain.
It is not our place to leave anyone out.
The work of gathering is not only in Jerusalem, but here in our own place as
we strive to bring our family together and join it in the beautiful expression of
our Saviors love - baptism, confirmation, initiatory, endowment and sealing.
It at times seems a daunting task, but with the new programs and the various
research capabilities available to us in this day, we should not shurk what is
ours to do.
As I gain the benefit of those who have worked so hard to bring their Family
together and find how each of those link up with mine, I am greatful for all
that has been sacraficed to help me along the path. By no means am I in
anyway finished. There are more that need to be found. Time is running out.
Many are being stubborn about being found, but with what I have been able
to gather, they will eventually have to come into the knowledge of someone
who is working as am I to get the work as finished as is possible.
One hope is that when we hit one of those "brick walls" that keep us from
going on, during the Millenium one of the family will be worthy enough to be
given the keys of the resurrection and bring forth that one soul that has the
link we need to go beyond the block. There is hope and help. We need the
courage to continue and the will to think how best to use our time and our
talents in doing the work. As new records are coming forth daily, we are in
a better position to find those who need to be found, and yes want to be found
so they may have their work done. It puts a great demand on our time.
I recall a conversation I had with a friend a few hours before he passed away.
He asked if I could check on his parents, he knew he had done their
endowments but was not sure they had been sealed. He knew it was a short
time until he would be with them and he didn't want to explain to them why he
had not finished their work. Fortunately computers had come to the Center.
I went over and found that their work had been done. I called him on the phone
and told him he had accomplished the work. He was so relieved. He passed
away the next day.
I pray that I too will be able to join my family on the other side and report that
I have done all that I could do, and left the remaining work in good hands to
be completed. I know I cannot be the one to do it all. What I CAN do is my
responsibility TO DO. As the scriptures tell us: "he that hath ear, let him hear.
he that hath an eye let him see." As it is written, so shall it be.
With my love - and in Jesus Name, Amen.
Written this 7th day of February 2009

Second Time Around

Jays parents: Thomas Gower Rosenberg (Slim) and Itha Harris were divorced in 1948.
They split up on Jay and Charmaines' first Wedding Anniversary.
My parents: John Charles Smith and Edith Annie Hall were separated by death
in 1955. And thus the story begins.
In June and July Slim (Dad) had been hospitalized for a kidney ailment. He was in
French Hospital in Los Angeles. John and Edith went to visit him during this time.
Slim had become a regular at family get together following his divorce from Itha (Ike).
A friendship grew between these parents as they shared their children namely:
Jay and Charmaine.
Slim was released from the hospital just a few days before the accident that took the
life of John Smith. He was still not well enough to be home alone, so he came to
our house to get well. When the call came telling us of the accident, it was necessary
to move Slim to his daughters, Afton Cowles, in Bell. Jay and I were on the go with
visiting Mom in the Hospital in Lompoc, CA and making funeral arrangments for John.
When Mom was able to be released from the Hospital in Lompoc, she came to be
cared for at our house. (The training I had learned as a Home Health Aide at Taft
Community College was being well used).
Mom stayed with us for some time. Slim would come to visit to see how she was
coming along. When we was able to return to her own home, he came to see if he
could help her in any way. He had an apartment in Bell and drove close to the
house on his way to and from work. He would take Edith grocery shopping and to
do small errands. After some time he asked her to go to a show, or to the horse
races with him. They attended parties at Owens-Illinois Glass Co. where Slim
worked. After about a year, Slim asked Edith to marry him, but she didn't feel as
if she was ready for an attachment at that time.
After three years of their dating and becoming closer, Slim asked Edith to go with
him to Utah to meet his brothers and sisters. She thought it would be fine, and
they planned a two week trip. Edith was greeted by the Rosenberg family with
love and family fun. The two weeks were just great. Mom had found a family she
could fit into. I don't think she had realized how much she had missed her own
family in Ohio.
Just about the time the vacation was to come to a close the subject of marriage
was brought up by one of Slims' sisters. The couple got along so well, liked
the same things, etc. Why not get married? Slim said he had asked and had
suggested it was silly for them to keep two homes going when they were on the
go together so much. The time was apparently right, Slim contacted Jay and
asked for the hand of Edith in marriage. I don't know why he thought Jay had
the right to give it, but the family had become so knit together I guess he felt
good about asking Jay.
Slim went down to the jewelry store in Cedar City and bought a set of rings for
Edith. The family caravaned to Las Vegas for the Wedding. After a party with
everyone in Las Vegas, the family returned to Utah and the Newly Weds came
back to California. The vacation was over and the Honeymoon began.
A reception was held at the Belgrave home, and a very happy set of families
were joined together. When we had family holidays there after it was always
the Smith and Rosenberg clans that gathered.
I guess the length of time the folks had gone together gave both sides time to
get use to the idea. Everyone got along, there was no problems among the
children or grand children. It was just a continuation of life as they had known
it for some time.
For Jay and I it made for a few laughs. We always said when we called each
other Brother and Sister we ment it. I had a Mother and a Mother-in-law all
in one. Jay ended up with a Mother-in-law and Step Mother. Well you get
the idea.
Edith and Slim were married about 10 years when he began to show signs of
dementia. I went down to help her with him for awhile. He would wander off
and get lost. We feared for his safety so arranged for him to go into a care
facility. He didn't do much better there. He wandered particularly at night.
How he could get out of the confinment they had him in, no one could figure
out.
One night Slim got away from the center in his night clothes and wandered
up the street. He must have been looking for his home. He tried some
door nobs, or at least we thought that is what he had done. He entered
an apartment of a young couple who were asleep. He was standing at the
foot of their bed, not doing anything, just standing there. The young man
woke up and saw him there and asked him what he thought he was doing?
Slim told him he wanted to go to bed. He was so lost, and confused the
couple figured out where he must have come from, so got dressed and
took him back. He was fortunate he didn't get beat up.
One day Willetta was up town shopping and came out of a store and found
Slim standing on the corner waiting for the light to change. She went over and
asked him what he was doing there. He told her he didn't know. She asked
him if he would like her to take him home. He agreed to let her. She took
him back to the center where he lived, it was just a few blocks away. They
had been looking for him, but had no idea how he had got away from them.
It was about this same time Mom got a call that they needed to talk with her.
She went up and they told her the State Law required that Slim have a chest
x-ray before he was admitted. His showed he had a spot on his left lung. He
needed to see a Doctor. We made an appointment with a Chest Specialist
and took him to be examined.
Following the examination the Doctor told us that Slim had cancer. Mom said
she would try and get him into a VA Hospital for treatment, but the Doctor said
she would not have time for that. She insisted that would be the best
possible way to handle it, but the Doctor again, more strongly stated: "there
isn't enough time for that!" He had him admitted into a hospital for the care of
advanced cancer patients in Lynwood, CA. He was only there a short time.
One morning I called Mom and asked her to be ready I would pick her up at
around 10 a.m. She asked for what? I replied: "I think you know". We went
to Halversons' Funeral Home and made pre-need arrangments for Slim. The
Director complimented us in being so thoughtful in such a difficult time. We
set all the papers in order and left feeling gratified that we had done the right
thing. Slim passed away 11 days later. Mom had only to make one phone
call. Jay and I had property at Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier. We
called and made arrangements for burial in one of the plots we had there.
The cancer Slim had was "star burst". When the cells break away, they scatter
throughout the body. This was the cause of his dementia. One such cell had
gone to the sensor part of his brain. We were greatful for the knowledge that
it ment he did not suffer any pain from the advanced condition he was in.
Edith said she was sorry she had not accepted Slims first proposal because
she felt they had wasted three years that they could have enjoyed together.
They had such a good marriage.
written this 4th day of February 2009

I Taught Granny to Drive

You know she never really wanted to drive. Like I said we walked just about every
place we wanted to go, or there was a bus just a few blocks from the house and
the "J" car not that much farther. When Dad was killed in the accident, she was
pretty limited as to how to get to the Market and bring back the amount of the
things she needed. Ron was working, and by then Willetta didn't drive because
of her eyes. I was way out in Whittier and was not available on a daily basis, so
she really needed to drive. The car was never replaced after the accident and
Mom wasn't interested in buying one, so Slim, would come and take her.
He lived close, and wanted to help her as much as he could. That is how they
got together, and finally married, but that is another story.
After they were married and Slim had a good car, she decided she would try
her hand at driving, and I was elected to be the one to teach her. I would come
into Huntington Park and we would take Slims' car and drive around so
she could get the hang of things. It was an automatic, so she didn't have all
that much trouble. One day when we were out for a driving lesson we had made
our way as far, in traffic, as South Gate, CA. She was doing great, and
getting confident that she could handle the car. It was a big Mercury. A much
heavier car than Dad had ever had. It handled well, and was comfortable to
drive. (Now a note here - this was still the days before seat belts.) I told her it
was a good place to try a left hand turn, we were in a residential area and
there was little traffic to bug her. She waited for a couple cars to go by and
started her left hand turn. When she was well into it, the car lurched forward
at a high rate of speed, I told her to put on the brake, but she didn't have time.
We jumped the curb which threw me across the car into the steering wheel.
It shoved her into the door with force and knocked the wind out of her. The
car was heading for the front of a house, which fortunately had a high
cement porch. The car glanced off the porch wall which turned the car away
from the house and over the steps where it came down on a picket fence the
motor was still churning away at high speed. If we hadn't had been hung up
on that fence, we would have torn out every front yard on the block.
The people in the house came out, having just left the porch before we hit it.
Lucky for all of us that was the case. They helped Mom out of the car. She
was hurt and having difficulty breathing. I was hurting as well. My arm had
gone with force into the steering wheel, and I thought at first it was broken,
but it was just bruised badly.
We called Ron, I believe, and he took Mom to the Doctor. In the accident she
was in with Dad she had had 9 ribs broken. She had done it again, only not
as many this time. The Doctor said he would not bind her up as they had
learned that really didn't help them heal any better. She was put on bed rest
and so was down again.
They hauled the car way and when they examined it they found the linkage on
the carburator had come loose and the car had been put into high grear and
away it went. The only thing that could have stopped it was cutting the motor,
or being hung up on that fence. It was totaled so Mom bought Slim a new
car. One that was smaller, and easier to handle.
The story still has more to tell. I saw Mom home and got her settled. I was
still hurting quite a bit, but didn't want her to know. I knew if she thought she
had hurt me she would never drive, and it was important that she learn. I
left her and drove out to get Jay from work. I guess it was just sheer will power
that got me that far. When I went into get him - the minute I saw him I passed
out. Lucky I was close enough to him that he was able to catch me before I
hit the ground. When I came around, he asked what was the matter. I told
him we had been in an accident, and I didn't feel well. He put me in the car
and took me to Mayo Smith our Doctor and he ordered me to the hospital,
but I refused to go. He told me I had internal injuries that were serious and I
needed to be in the hospital where they could take care of me. I still refused
saying I knew my mother would never drive if she knew I was injured. He
told Jay to take me home and put me to bed. Someone had to keep an eye
on me at all times. If I passed out again, they needed to get me right to the
hospital because I would need emergency surgery within a short period of
time or I would bleed internally.
Well, I was determined. Jay called the Elders, I was a member of the church
by now. David Dimmick and Ron Johnson came and administered to me. I
stayed quiet and either Paul, Dawn or Jay kept an eye on me. The kids were
to set on my legs to make sure they didn't miss any change in me. Jay just
held my hand. I had Jay take me into see Mom in the evenings so she had
the idea that I was just bruised up and not hurt too much.
Within a short time I had a large swelling in between my two breasts. It grew
to be about the same size. Mayo warned me again. It was my spleen and it
was filling with blood and would probably rupture causing my death. I was so
set in my way that I would not go into the hospital. I can't remember how
many days it was. I was laying in bed one evening and got so sick, even my
hair felt sick. I know that sounds silly, but that is how it felt. I didn't get sick
to my stomach, I was just "sick" all over. I called to Jay and said we had
better get to the Doctor. We went to Mayo and he was shocked. The spleen
had drained itself. When all that stagnant blood hit my system, it made me
feel sick all over. I have never had any trouble with my spleen from that day
too this! (Blessings of the Priesthood).
Now - the spleen is a blood filter. It is the last one that the blood is filtered
through in the body. The most important to a fetus and unborn child, but of
no practical use after birth. Or at least none that they are aware of. It is the
one organ when damaged by trauma causes internal bleeding that usually
causes death from hemoraging, unless surgery can be performed quickly to
remove the organ. People can live healthy lives with them so long as they
aren't injured. That slide across the seat and slam into the steering wheel
not only bruised my arm, it bruised my left lung and spleen. I would have to
say that my concern for Mom and my faith along with a Priesthood Blessing
brought me out of what could have been a much more serious cituation.
Mom learned to drive - Slim finished up the job of teaching her, and all was
well in the end.
Written this 4 day of February 2009

Learning to Drive

You know Jay tried to teach me, but I have little patience and he was so nervous
that I would wreck HIS CAR, that things did not go well. My Dad wasn't into that
kind of thing, so I was 21 before I finally found someone who would take the time
to teach me.
Introducing Homer Williams. He was the Accountant that the school hired to
oversee the Accounting Office at Huntington Park High School. I took Accounting
as one of my classes. We struck up a friendship as well as a working relation-
ship during the years I was finishing my education. I was elected Commissioner
of Finance in my Junior Year so spent even more time in the office as I was
responsible for arranging all the finances for the activities at the school. I made
the arrangements for the tickets to be printed in the print shop, and getting them
sold. I took care of the box office at all the school football games. Well it was
a lot of work, Homer helped with the deposits, etc. as everything had to go through
him.
We kept in touch following my graduation, and when Jay and I got married we use
to go out to Homer and Louise Williams home on week-ends and the kids would
play and we would visit. Homer never had much of a place, but we were always
welcome, and enjoyed the time we spent with the family.
When I wanted to learn to drive, Homer was working for Challenge Dairy selling to
Schools, etc. Of course the quantity was pretty big, but they had good ice cream
and Mom and Dad had a large upright freezer, so we bought ice cream from him.
He was concerned that I didn't know how to drive because we lived way out in
the "boon docks" as they said in those days - we were in Norwalk, CA. He had
customers out in that area so would come by and pick Paul and I up and I would
drive as Homer would instruct me to where he had to go. Now you have to be
informed back in those days they didn't have car seats like we have today. It
was just a seat with hooks that fit over the seat. No straps, nothing. If the seat
went, so went the kid. Kinda of scarey when you think about it today. Who
knew?
Homer took a big chance letting me drive in the Company Car, but he trusted me
and I was most careful not to do anything that would cause trouble. The lessons
were regular, and it was no time until I could qualify to take the test and get a
drivers licence. Once I got my licence, Jay found another worker who lived a few
blocks from us and they traded off driving so their wives could have the car for
a couple weeks a month to do their shopping, etc. In fact the week we were
carless was when the wives would share their car so there was very little time
we couldn't get to the store, or Doctor. It really helped.
The car we had was the one Jay bought after he came back from the War. It was
a 1941 Chev two door sedan. Black. It had a stick shift, which no one sees these
days. I had to learn to drive both a stick on the floor and one on the steering
wheel. Back then we used a clutch to shift the gears with, so it took both hand
and foot co-ordination. Today with automatics, it isn't all that hard to drive. No
clutch no shifting. Took me awhile to drive an automatic. I didn't want to get
lazy in case a stick shift was all that was available in an emergency. Progress
and times have changed a lot of things.
I told Jay I wouldn't get a licence until I knew how to change a tire. He taught
me how to do that, and I can remember coming out of the Maywood, CA Post
Office and finding a tire had gone flat. I proceeded to jack the car up, take the
tire off and replace it with the spare - oh, and in those days they were regular
size tires, not the whimps cars have today. I was just across the street from
a gas station, and one of the guys came over and asked me if I would'nt like
him to help? I told him I was capable of doing it. He missed a sale on that one
but I knew if I was out in the country and had a flat, I would have to do it myself,
so why not get the experience while I had the chance. I sure got dirty, but I
changed the tire, and was on my way.
I am greatful today we have "roadside service" so a "cellphone" call and you are
on your way again safely. I would hate to have to ask someone to help today.
I bet I could still change a tire if I had to.
Written this 4th day of February 2009

Then their was Korea

I don't think I will ever forget that day. The mail came and there was a large brown
manila evelope from the Navy Department for Jay. I must have looked at a dozen
times, wondering what it could possibly be and finally curiosity got the better of
me and I opened it up. I guess I should explain here that this was a cardinal NO
NO in our house. Two things were never done - open someone elses mail, or
get into Mothers Purse without asking!
The shock I read there was far beyond expression in words. You are to report for
active duty on, and it gave the date and time. I was stunned. He was in the
inactive reserves, why were they calling him back? What would we do, we had
just bought a new home and car. How could I pay for those? What was I going
to do?
I got into the Cedar Chest and got out Jays Uniforms and had them laid out on
the bed with the orders when he came home from work. He was working days
that week. He was shocked too. It seemed that the Allegator Navy - small boats
were needed as well as Machinst Mates.
He was given about a four month warning, so we did have time to make some
arrangments before he had to leave. First thing was to find someone to rent and
live in our house while he was gone. Mom and Dad invited Paul and I to come
to their place for the duration, it was closer to work possibilities because I was
going to have to go back to work. The sooner the better.
Fortunately a friend of a neighbor was looking for a place to rent. They had just
come from the mid-west, as I recall, and needed a furnished place. They had
always lived in trailers so this was a big change for them. We made a deal with
them that they would keep the place in good repair. If things were needed and
approved, they could take the price off the rent.
I wasn't a member of the Church at that time, but the LORD seemed to be looking
out for me anyway. The lady was so clean she drained the washing maching on
the garage floor each week and scrubbed the floor with the soapy water. They gave
the house a paint job on the inside before they moved out. Everything was spic
and span to move back in.
That was just a big jump in the story however. I took Jay up to Los Angeles the
morning he was to report and it was hard to let him out and drive away, not knowing
where they would send him or how long he would be gone before we saw him again.
It had been about six years since the last War was over and this recall made it
hard on the supply officers to come up with enough uniforms for the men returning.
Jay having his, and they still fit him, ment he got his clothing alottment in cash
which helped him those first few weeks. He was sent to San Diego for outfitting and
assignment.
He was assigned to the USS Menifee APA 202. It was to be recomissioned up in
San Francisco, so that is where he was sent. I was invited to the ceremonies. Ralph
took me to LAX for my first flight anywhere, and I was scared stiff. I prayed all the
way up, and I can tell you landing at San Francisco Airport can be a tramatic ex-
perience if you have never flown before. When they start their decent, all you can
see is ocean, and you continue to see ocean or water everywhere until you feel the
tires hit solid ground. I was sure my worst fears were being realized.
I found my way through the Airport, (it wasn't the way it is now) and got a taxi to
take me to the dock. Little did I know they were not all sure of where that was. I
was fortunate enough to get a cab who had already taken someone out to the dock
so it wasn't as costly as it might have been.
It took me awhile to find Jay when I did get aboard. You will never know how alone
I felt for the first few hours I was there. When we finally met, it was an emotional
meeting for both of us. Jay wanted to show me around, and I was willing to do any
thing he suggested, just so I could hang on to him. The ladders on the ship were
not ment for pencil skits and high heels, but I made it. On one decent, I was pinched
by and unknown sailor, and it really ticked me off. Jay wasn't too happy about it
either, but got a chuckle out of it anyway.
The Ceremony was long and a bit boring, but when it was over Jay was on "leave" so
we left the ship and got a cab into town. It had started to rain when I got off the airplane
and continued to rain the whole time I was there. Jay said it stopped about the time
my plane left the ground on my return flight. I ruined a new pair of shoes tramping
around San Francisco in the rain. We found a Hotel - not the best, we had to share
a bathroom with the next room. We were inside and warm, so I guess that was a plus.
Without a car we couldn't really do much in the rain, so we walked down the Street
to a Bar that had a sofa infront of a lovely big fireplace so we sat there for most of the
evening and sipped drinks an talked and shared experiences.
We only had the week-end but it was great to be together again and feel like we had
worked things out as well as we could under the circumstances. I was still looking
for work, which I hoped would be forth coming soon. As it turned out, I got a job in
walking distance from the folks house. When the weather was good, I walked, when
it wasn't I took the car.
The ship was going to Korea, but had to have a "shake down cruise" before it could
do that. This took awhile, so Jay was at sea and not available for phone or leave
time. When the ship came into San Diego Jay got a final leave to come home. We
had a few days together and talked about all the things we hope to accomplish with
this change in our plans. Jay wouldn't be making as much money, I would help as
much as I could, and the folks would help out with taking care of Paul so I could
work. I think they were over generous, but parents are like that, yes they are.
When I took Jay to the Greyhound Station on Florence Avenue to go back to San Diego
it was a hard parting. I had left Paul at home because he cried so when he realized
that Jay was leaving again. While we were standing there waiting, Jay asked if he
could put my Wedding Rings on again. I know that sounds like a strange request, so
I will go back to the first time this came up. It was about two weeks after we were
married and I thought one of the small stones in the Wedding Ring was loose. I did
not want to loose it so I went out to where Jay was working and asked him to take
my rings off so I could take them to the jewelers and have them checked. It stopped
him cold. He said: "why do you need me to take them off?" I explained that he had
put them on, and I wouldn't take them off. He took my rings off and handed them to
me and said: "don't ever ask me to do that again, if those rings are all that keeps this
marriage together, we don't have very much!"
When he asked to put my rings on there at the Bus Station before he was leaving for
no one knew how long, I knew he knew I would be faithful. I would have been anyway,
but it was something that he had a sure knowledge of from the previous experience.
He was home about two days when I asked him to take them off so I could take them
to the jewelers and have them cleaned and checked. He never put them back on
again!
While he was gone I worked a LA Spring and Wire doing payroll. It was a good job,
and I had insurance for Paul and I and was able to keep the car payments up. The
house was covered by the rent as was the taxes. Back in those days the house
payment and taxes were paid together and the mortgage company sent the taxes
in from the fund that had accumulated with the loan payments each month. We
did fine.
I wrote to Jay everyday. His letters came in spurts, some of them way to far apart.
I would check every night and when it got to be a week or more with no letter, I
would worry he was hurt or worse. I numbered my letters so that he knew if he
got them all. When the mail would be brought to the ship he usually got a hand
ful of letters. He sorted them according to number and then opened the last one.
If it wasn't a "dear john" he would go to the first letter and read them. I guess we
never know how many "dear Johns" are sent when men are away at War. It was
not something Jay needed to worry about, but it was something he did none the
less.
He was gone 18 months in all. When we was seperated out after his term of
duty was up, he was let out in San Francisco. It was Christmas time, and it was
cold. He had always had so much luck hitch hiking that he opted to do that
rather than take the bus like the others sailors he left ship with. He regreted
that when he saw the bus speed by as he was still standing out in the cold.
He got a ride with someone who had an old car without a heater. He was about
to freeze to death when the driver suggested they stop at a Bar and have a
drink to the Holiday. Jay wasn't really interested, but he wanted to get home,
so he felt one drink would not hurt. Well - he made a face when he drank the
frist one. That would not do, the driver said: "boy you got to learn to drink it
down without making a face". By the time Jay could do that he was warm and
drunk. By the time he got to Slauson and Pacific in Huntington Park for me
to pick him up, he was "skunked". Ralph and I had waited all evening to put up
the Christmas tree because Jay had asked to wait so he could help. Paul was
anxious to see his Dad again after such a long absence, but he finally fell
asleep it got so late. When the call came, it was one happy sailor on the other
end. He was at the Drive In and would be waiting on the corner. The sight we
saw when we drove up was one to behold. There was Jay hanging on the light
post smiling and drunk as a skunk. I was crushed. He was so near to passing
out that we barely got him home. What a home coming after such a long absence.
Well better that than nothing.
I got told off in spade in the morning because he had dove onto the bed and it
had a white chenille bed spread, which deposited a lot of white lint on his uniform.
It is hard to brush that stuff off. I had a time explaining that I could not very well
have stopped his falling, he was really out like a light.
Ralph and I decorated the tree and had a good laugh while doing it.
Written this 3rd day of February 2009 (not proofed)

My Sister Willetta

Well, she really wasn't my Sister, but she was the nearest thing to it I will ever have.
As I have stated before she and Ronald made an attachment early on, and it ended
up with a wonderful family. What I remember is she filled the need I had to have a
sister of my own. She was always there for me when I needed her. She, I believe,
was the inspiration for my becoming a Clerical Major in High School. She was a
Book Keeper for the Bank of American in El Monte and had the most beautiful hand
writting I have ever seen. Back in those days there were no computers, or calculators.
All the bank business was done by hand. There were big old adding machines but
they were cumbersome and had a handle that had to pulled each time you entered
a number. Then when you wanted a total, you had to punch the total key. It did not
make for easy work, nor speed in getting the job done.
Willetta was never a thin person. She didn't have a hour glass figure, but she had the
reddist hair you ever saw, and a beautiful complexion. One very noticable thing about
her was she had a small gold filling, about the size of the led in a pencil, in the middle
of her left front tooth. Oh, and a laugh that was so infectious it made everyone laugh
instantly even if they had no idea what had made HER laugh.
I think she was a natural at livening up any party.
I can remember when Jay and I were first married we would go over to their house in
Downey and were usually invited to stay to have a meal. She could put together the
most tasty meal from practically nothing. I have seen her make a meatloaf out of
one pound of ground round and her unusual combination of things to add to it and it
would come out so lip smacking good and there was left overs after feeding eight
hungry people. I don't think anyone ever went away from her home hungry.
She loved to eat corn right in the garden where her Mom grew it and liked her popcorn
with buttermilk. If there was a cause to be helped, she was one of the first to be a worker
to get the job done. She had two hands like everyone else, and both of them seemed
to be "helping".
We were mothers together. She had Connie in October and I had Paul in December.
Mom (Edith Smith) had her hands full for awhile because Paul had pneumonia and
Willetta had a hang nail infect from changing a "dirty diaper" and nearly lost her ring
finger on her left hand. It took a long time to heal, and she was not able to take care
of Connie, so Ron would bring her and the kids to Mom when he went to work at the
Signal in the a.m. and Jay would bring me and Paul so the babies could get the care
they needed. Connie because of Willetta lacking the hand to do it, and Paul because
I was learning how to deal with a serious ill baby. Thank God for Mothers who have
the knowledge and the willingness to pitch in and give a hand.
Willetta was one of the first I believe to have catarac problems. She lost her sight
very suddenly and had to have surgery. Back then it meant wearing horrible glasses
because they didn't implant new lenses back then. She had a thyroid problem that
they treated with what they called an "atomic cocktail". They miss treated her and
gave he two doses which complicated her condition even further. In all of the problems
she had, she never seemed to stop treating guests in her home as family. She still
set a good table, and made everyone welcome. There were times I knew she was
feeling badly, but she carried on anyway.
I had the pleasure of making two dresses for her. One for Jeanne and Eds wedding.
It was white and I trimmed it with bright red ribbons and small roses. She looked so
pretty in that. Her hair had turned more strawberry blonde by then with the grey that
had added in. When she was invited to the Marine Corp Birthday Ball, I made the
second dress out of teal blue sheer with a under slip the same color. I took great
pains to bead the dress and she was so thrilled with it. When I took it over she did
a Loretta Young swirl in it. She really felt elegant, and looked the part as well.
I don't believe her health allowed her to wear the dress to the ball however.
After Mom passed away, I went to Ron and asked if he would allow me to take the
wedding ring Mom had made from the Diamond Cluster she always wore, into a special
ring for "Willie". I removed four of the diamonds and replaced them with four rubies.
I gave it to her just before their 40th Wedding Anniversary. She had never had such
a nice ring before, because her finger never was able to grow a nail right after the
serious infection she had. She did wear that ring for special occasions and I believe
that it went to Connie when Willetta passed away.
I love her to this day, and miss her so. I don't believe I could have had a better Sister
had she come to our family through the regular way. I am sorry the rest of the family
has not been able to know her.
Written the 3rd day of February 2009

Ralph Broke my Leg

We lived on 55th Street in Hungtington Park and the yard was always full of friends.
I think Ron drew them like flies. So there was always a range of ages to play with.
One day we were running around and having fun, laughing and chasing each other.
Two of the older girls took me under the arms and I was crab walking across the
lawn. At the same time, Ralph wanted to show off, for the girls I imagine, and as I
got close, he did a back flip and landed on my outstretched legs. It was innocent
enough, but it hurt. Of course, I cried and they took me in the house. Mom did
not think it was anything serious so wiped up my tear stained face and told me to
go back and play. When I would try to walk, it hurt. So I didn't go back outside.
I hobbled around for the rest of the day, and Mom complained I was just letting on.
I wasn't, but I couldn't get anyone to take me serious. That evening we drove over
for a visit with my Grand Parents, but I refused to get out of the car. They should
have known I was hurting, because I would have walked a mile to be with my Grand
Dad. When I didn't come into the house, he came out to me, and I told him that
my leg hurt, and I didn't want to walk on it. He carried me into the house and
insisted that I be taken to the Doctor and have the leg looked at. The next day I
went to see the Doctor. They took x-rays and found I had a "green stick" break of
the right leg. Which ment the bone was snapped but went right back into place.
In those days they didn't cast such breaks, but put it in a confining bandage and
put me on crutches. I went back to see the Doctor and have the bandage changed
every week for 6 weeks I believe it was. My leg got skinny, but it healed fine. I
felt sorry for Ralph because he felt so bad, and kept apoligizing to me. It was an
accident, and I never had any hard feelings toward him.
Written this 3rd day of February 2009

I Bit My Nails

I know you would never know that, with the claws I grow these days, but YES
I did bite my nails. In fact I was at them so much that I even got them back
far enough that the finger would bleed. Mom tried everything, and a lot of things
I wish she hadn't. When she would catch me she would paint my finders back
to the first knucle trying to get me to stop.
What makes someone do that? I have no idea, I just knew that I kept at it and
it was so harmful both to my fingers and my stomach. Needless to say my
hands were not always clean, and putting those dirty fingers into my mouth
was a silly thing to keep doing, but do it I did.
I certainly have Willetta to thank for breaking me of the habit, and it is a habit.
When or how I started I have no idea, but stopping, well that was another tale
all together. I have mentioned that Ron and Willetta started an interest in each
other when they were about 12 years old, I think. When she moved to El Monte
it cooled down, but Ron wasn't the type to give up. Every time I saw Willetta
when she was a young women, she had the loveliest LONG fingernails. I did so
admire them. When we would go out to visit, she would paint them and they
looked soooo good. I confessed to her that I sure wished I had nails like that.
Smart girl, she said: "you could have nails like that if you didn't bite them". Well
that was the truth, but my hands looked so bad, I did not believe that would be
the case. Finally one time she promised if I would stop biting my nails she would
give me a lovely Manicure Set for Christmas. WELL, that was something to
work for. So hard as it was, I worked at breaking myself of the habit. I sat on
my hands a lot of the time. I would slap them when I would find them in my
mouth. It wasn't easy, but I finally started to grow some nails. They were not
anything thing like Willetta had, but they were growing.
My parents were so happy to see me trying and encouraged me when they saw
the first sign of growth, and my struggling to let them alone. Finally when the
Christmas season came around Willetta asked to see how I was doing and she
was impressed. Well, so was I. As promised, under the Christmas tree was
the biggest and prettiest Manicure Set I had ever seen. It had a snap front that
when it was unsnapped opened to my wonder - a bottle of cuticle remover - a
bottle of nail polish remover and two bottles of nail polish. There were two orange
sticks some cotton rolls and a nail file and an emery board. WOW. I was so
excited. Willetta came and used all the things in the Set to get my nails ready
for the first coat of polish. Well, they didn't look like Willettas' nails, but they were
mine, and I was proud of them.
After that if I broke a nail, or cut them, Dad always asked me to give them to him
because he was so proud of me for having grown them so long. Everytime I break
or cut my nails now I think of how he would admire the length my nails had grown
and how long they would grow again.
Should you have the habit of biting you nails, may I suggest you set on your hands.
They don't have those lovely Manicure Sets like I yearned for, but there is something
just as rewarding, that is having hands that you can extend to anyone and know
they are the best kept hands, because you want them to look their best when you
shake hands.
Written this 3rd day of February 2009

The Boys Bought a Car!

Yes, with the industry of the two boys, they finally pooled their money and
bought a second hand Chevy two door coupe. They shared in the payments
and insurance, etc. Ron always had a girl friend, so I think he used it more,
but Ralph had the car to go back and forth to work. By this time he had been
out of High School for some time. Ron was still in High School and worked
part time at the Signal - the paper in Huntington Park that we had delivered
papers for. The fun for me was that even though I was still the "little sister"
I got to ride in the car and that was big stuff. Dad always had a car, but we
rarely used it except to take trips. As told before, we walked everywhere as
a family, or took the "J" car - an electric street car if we were going any
distance. If we kids wanted to go to the beach, we took the Red Bus at Florence
Avenue - and paid 50 cents to go to Long Beach and back for the day. Another
quarter would handily take care of lunch. We were set for the day. How we
got to Florence Avenue was by walking to Randolf and Pacific where we caught
the Yellow bus - got a transfer and changed buses at Florence Avenue. When
I couldn't bum a ride with the boys, that is how I made it with friends to have fun.
Ralph was a roller skater and would take me with him when he went to the rink
on Atlantic Blvd. I loved going there and many of friends went as well. I had to
rent skates until Dad ponied up and bought me a pair of shoe skates. Nothing
but the best. We bought Ice Skating Boots minus the blades and then had rollers
put on them. They were better boots, and I was really snazzy when I went to
the rink. Not many girls had such a pair of skates. I got pretty good, but nothing
like Ralph. He could do sorts of tricks and turns. He was the envy of everyone,
but he still didn't have a girl.
Ron was going with Willetta Powers who had been a neighbor but her family
had moved to El Monte. A car was necessary if the romance was to continue.
I was always a welcome "tag along" because Willetta had a younger sister
just a year older than I was. When Ron would pick Willetta up he would
leave me with Betty and I would pal around with her and her friends. It was
the better part of two worlds really. El Monte was out in the country in those
days, and all the activities Betty and went on usually ment we rode the
School Bus. I lived in walking distance from school, so didn't have that kind
of experience. It was always great fun. I went to ball games and dances or
what ever was going on. I think I attended more school functions in El Monte
than I did in Huntington Park. When Ron went into the Marine Corp following
his Graduation from High School, the car became to porperty of Ralph and
I was home bound. Ralph still didn't have a girl friend.
When Ralph was sole owner he traded the car in for a convertible - another
Chevy. He always wore a yatch cap when he drove. He kept that car until
he too went into the service. I believe they sold it and put the money in the
bank so another car could be purchased upon their return. You have to
remember in those days, the war was on, and cars were scarce. New cars
were rarely available so used cars brought a good price.
Written this 2nd day of February 2009

I Never had a Bike

This is not in way of a complaint. I just never had a Bike. You have to remember
I was a Depression Baby and those kinds of things were just not in the budget of
the ordinary home. Ralph was a bit inventive. He found the frame of a cast off bike.
He went about finding the additional parts and put a bike together so he could get
a Paper Route to earn his own money. He never updated that awful looking thing
he made. He would rather spend his money on other things that he wanted, after
all he: "had a bike". Now Ronald was a different person all together. He sat about
getting a Paper Route and he and Ralph used one bike to do both Routes and split
the money evenly. Ron had to ride on the handle bars and both the boys carried
their Paper Bags over their shoulders, which made it a bit akward when they first
started out every morning. By the time they finished they were managing better.
Ron saved his money and when he had reached the price, he bought a beautiful
red Bike with a rack on the back. Now one would think the rack would hold his
paper bags so he could ride and deliver his papers more comfortably. You thought
wrong if that was what you came up with. By then I was big enough to have a
Paper Route as well. So the Smith Kids now had three Paper Routes. Ralph did
his and Ron put me on the rack and he and I did a double route. What a site.
Each morning we would go down to the Signal, pick up our papers and set in the
cold and fold them and stuff them in the Paper Bags. Then we would put the bags
on the bikes and away we would go. Of course the best paying was to the houses
where you "porched" the paper. Many a time I would climb down off the bike and
run pick up the paper that hadn't made it to the porch and put it where it should
have gone. When we went collecting for the Papers we had delivered, there was
usually a tip that went with the price of the Papers. If we missed a house for some
reason we would have to go back and hand deliver a paper. That didn't happen very
often, we were very dependable "Carriers". I think my biggest part of the job was
folding and stuffing. I don't think I got a full share of the money earned, but then I
really didn't need that much, it was just great being with the boys and doing the
job with them. When we would get back home, we would go back to bed for a
short time just to get warmed up. That was my first economic experience, and I
enjoyed it, cold, wet sometimes and all.
Written this 2nd day of February 2009

Spring Cleaning

I am not sure that I can do this justice, but I will try and paint you a word picture of
what it was like to do Spring Cleaning at the Smith House. Well I guess it was
pretty much done in every house, but I speak only of what I knew of the process.
Come a good day - when the weather was good and you could open all the doors
and widows, the work began. First mother would strip all the beds and wash the
sheets and pillow cases and blankets if they needed it. Bedspreads were laundered
as well. The pillows were beat with a "carpet beater" and then hung on the line to
air for the day. The beds were super sweet smelling when they were made up at
the end of the day.
Next the rugs were rolled up in the living and dinning room and put outside - over the
clothes line if they were not too heavy and given a good beating to loosen all the
dirt the carpet sweeper hadn't removed. After we got a Hoover Vacuum it wasn't so
big a job. These were the days before hard wood floors even. The floors in the house
were pine and were painted a dark brown with enamel so they could be cleaned and
waxed. Now this was only about two feet from the wall and about 3 feet in between
the living and dining room. The floors otherwise had to be scrubbed and let air dry.
In the evening the carpets were brough back in and turned so they would wear evenly.
They had a pattern so this was not a difficult decision. The furniture had to be replaced.
I can't forget the Wall Paper cleaning. It was not a dirty job, but it was time consuming.
A cleaning compound much like "silly putty" was bought. It came in a can and
got hard if it was exposed to air too long. Small pieces were taken from the can and
rubbed over the surface of the Wall Paper. You had to kneed it to keep the dirt from
going back onto the paper. Now this was "really" paper, not like the coated varieties
that are available today and can be washed with water, etc. As the process continued
the dirty piece of cleaner was disposed of and another piece was taken from the can.
Hopefully the job and the cleaner equaled out.
Windows had to be washed inside and out. That was not the hardest job, the washing
and drying of the curtains was the hard part. Mom would put the curtains in the washer
and then when they had washed and were still damp they were put into a container
containing a heavy starch water. They were dipped until they were well coated then
we would put them on Curtain Stretchers. These were frames with hundreds of little
needles to hold the curtians tight on the frames while they dried. Many a finger was
pricked by those sharpe little needles. Setting up the frames was a job in and of itself.
Once they were the correct size of the curtain panels the stretching began. The frames
were put in the yard mainly leaning against something so the full sun could bleach and
dry the material. They were beautiful when they were finished.
The kitchen cabinets were cleaned inside and out. The walls were washed and the
floors mopped and waxed. The dining room cupboard was emptied and all the
dishes and glass ware was washed and replace after the shelves had received a
new sheet of paper on each shelf. All the wood work was washed and polished
as well. Every bedroom got what it needed. Painted if it was time to do that, or
washed along with the woodwork and windows. Every bedroom had linoleum floors,
so they were scrubbed and waxed and the throw rugs were washed, or taken out
an beat until they were as dirt free as they could be made. The closets were emptied
and the clothes were hung outside to air while the closet floors were mopped and
waxed. Everything was put back, and the house was neat and clean.
You have to remember the house did not have air conditioning, not even fans in those
days. Heat was gleaned from a small upright stove that has since been cast off as a
danger of carbon manoxide poisoning. Dad didn't put in forced air heating until all
the kids had married and moved away from home. That tiny heater had to heat
the whole house. Mom would generally heat the kitchen by using the oven for
part of the cooking she did each day. It wasn't efficient, but it was the best we had.
The bedrooms were cold and Dad would be the first one up so he would lite the little
stove and we kids would bring our clothes out and dress by the fire in the mornings.
The bathroom was way out back - the last room in the house - the house being built
in 1929. It had a small stove as well, it never really kept the bathroom warm enough,
but then we did not know any better - we just didn't dally when taking a bath, except
in the summer time. Oh, and I mean bath - we never had a shower in the house.
Mom always had an "Easy" washer. She couldn't use a wringer type very well so
Dad paid the difference for her to be able to do her job. In reality it was the beginning
of the Automatic washer as it spun the clothes and made less wear on the fabrics.
The Washer had two tubs with a tray that could be moved from the washing tub to
take the clothes to be spun and then to the basin where the water that was spun
out could be drained off. When the wash water was drained, the basin was filled
and the clothes put in to be rinsed. Then back into the spinner to remove the rinse
water. It was time consuming, but it did a great job.
Mom had a laundry fork. I don't which one of the boys made it for her in Wood
Shop at the High School. She used it to poke the laundry down into the tub, and
to help her remove heavy things out when wet. It looked like a two pronged fork
and was about 24 inches in length.
Of course every home had a back yark set of clothes lines complete with poles
that were used to raise the lines so the clothes did not touch the groung. There
were push clothes pins and there were spring type pins. Lines were first out of
cloth , then wire and later replaced with plastic coated lines. In either case
the lines had to be wiped down before clothes could be hung because they
accumulated dirt from one wash day to another.
Wash day was Monday unless they had smudged the night before in the Orange
Groves. In that case laundry couldn't be done because of all the oil smoke in the
air. Whites were hung so the sun would bleach them while the colored clothes
were hung in the shade so they would not fade. It took all day to dry the clothes
and in the afternoon it was time to take them down and fold them to be put away
for use. Shirts, pants and dresses were usually starched to some degree. As
they were brought in, Mom would "dampen" them and put them in a clothes basket
for ironing on Tuesday. Wednesday was house cleaning day, Thursday was a
day for other activities, Friday was for shopping and Saturday was the day we got
ready for Sunday. Sunday we kids went to church - either that or we couldn't
go to the show in the afternoon. I am not sure what logic that would hold today,
but back then it worked fine.
The world is now so mecanized that house keeping isn't done in the same old
way. So much is automated that if you want something it can be done in a matter
of minutes insead of days. I am not sure we haven't lost more than we have gained,
that this is progress and there is nothing we can do about it.
Written this 2nd day of Febraury 2009

Things I Remember

These may not to apply to others, but they have been important in my life
and I set here today to share them with those who may take the time to
set where they are and read them.
I Remember a Dad who was raised without his mother and had a step-mother
that was not as kind to him as she ought to have been. It could have been
because she was jealous because she was never able to have any children of
her own? She spent her time doing for and loving her nieces and newphews.
Taking money that Dad had earned while he was young and spending it on her
families kids. Once Dad found a $20.00 bill while working in a field. When he
came home with his prize, Carrie promptly took it from him. He had hoped to
buy something for himself with part of it and give his parents the rest. He didn't
realize a thing from his find. With all of that, I never heard him say a bad thing
about his step-mother. When his father passed away, Dad took her into our
home to care for her until she passed away. Her health became so poor that it
was more than Mom could to to care for her and the rest of the family so Dad found
a place that could give her the care she needed. We visited her regularly, even
though she did'nt remember any of us any longer. He never forgot his respon-
sibility to his parents.
I remember a Mother who was raised without a Dad. She mourned that loss in
a way I don't think any of her siblings knew about. She said more than once that
"I never had a Dad and everyone else did". Because she was the youngest of the
family you would have thought that she was spoiled, purhaps in some ways she
was, but from her earliest memories she was told, "now don't you cry it will upset
Mom". Edith couldn't cry - to do so was painful because she had held her tears
back for so many years. She never developed an "I" complex. She learned at
a young age, "if you can't pay for it, don't buy it". This because she once bought
a white coat on credit and the first time she wore it she was riding in an open
"touring car". While on the ride a car came by and splash oil and mud from the
road on the coat. It was ruined and she could never wear it again, but she had to
pay for it over a long period of time. Money was hard come by and she had a very
"tight fist". It made her a good household manager during the "depression". She
learned to fix it, repair it, make it, or do without it. Her children were raised with
the addage she had learned at home "it was always clean, and it was paid for".
She was a good seamstress. Though we lived in California and her family was yet
in Ohio, she never forgot her Mother on her birthday or other holidays when mothers
were honored. She saved so she could buy nice things. When she was a child
she remembered buying things for five cents at Christmas for her Mother and wished
she could have done better. Early memories kept her close to the things she had
learned. Prosperity did not change her much. She would scold Dad for buying so
many nice things for her, but he too had learned early that those you truly love need
to be remembered in special ways.
My Dad, John Smith, came to this country when he was young but never had to
apply for citizen ship because his father Charles Smith had become a naturalized
citizen while John was still young, so he was included in that citizenship. Being an
American Citizen ment a lot to Dad. He taught his family the right to vote was a
very sacred thing, and should be exercised as opportunity presented itself. He warned
us that we should be very careful who we voted for, that we should learn all we could
about each candidate and not vote because of Party affiliation, but vote because the
person was honest and would do what he was elected to do. Of course this was in
the days of Newspapers and Radio. When you hardly ever saw the candidates in
person, so you had to do much more studying. Our generation grew up seeing that
kind of investigation dropped due to coverage on television when we saw way too much
of the candidates, but learned far less about them until after they were elected.
I remember Dad telling me when they voted in Income Taxes that was the worse thing
that could happen to the citizens of this country - once the Government was allowed
to put their hand in the pockets of every workinig citizen they would never be able
to pull it out. He was right!
Each of us kids were told the cardinal rule of the house. You have been taught right
from wrong under this roof. When you leave this house you know what is expected of
you. Should you decide to do anything that varies from what you have been taught
and it leads to you getting into trouble - you found the way into it, so you had better
get yourself out of it - don't call home for assistance. We knew he ment it! We had
so much respect for our parents that we tried always to make them proud of us. If
we failed them, it was more difficult for us than for them.
Education was always stressed. Each of us was offered a college education, but all
three of us chose professions that did not require that. It may have been because we
were educated at a school where full training in a trade was offered. Each of us took
advantage of the classes that helped us become qualified to earn a good living from
what we learned at Huntington Park High School. Ralph and Ronald worked in the
School Print Shop and became Printers - which was a good trade in those days. I
was interested in Business Machines and Clearical classes. Then they had Book-
keeping Machines and Marchant Calculators that were manually operated as well as
Comptometers. These have all gone by the wayside with Computers and 10 Key
adding machines. Computers came along too, far into my "senior years" but I have
mastered the 10 Key with great skill I might add.
A most important thing that I learned from my parents was to do when you have the
opportunity. Not only to learn, to do, or to participate, but to love and to express that
love. I witnessed a Mother feed many hungry men at our back door, even when we
had spare supplies in our home. I never saw her turn a hungry soul away. Dad was
always there for his friends. Support, assistance in moving, or reparing something
that needed the special talents Dad had. I have heard him say many times "if you do
for a person while they are living, you have no need to cry over them when they have
passed away." A very valuable lesson.
I have tried to live by the things my parents taught me. I hope I have been an example
of their teachings and worthy of their faith and trust in me. The night before they left
on that last trip I begged Dad to wait just one day so that Paul and I could join them,
but he was very set about when he would leave and said: "No, you are not meant to
go with us this time." I have wondered if he had foreknowledge of the outcome of that
trip to Santa Cruz? One day I will know, but for now, I remember parents who were
worthy of my respect and deep affection. Two people who had known how valuable
family is and who tried in everyway possible to pass that knowledge on to the three of
their children.
Written this 2nd day of February 2009.