Well they were really Rolland and Dorothy Johnson. Dorothy was the Primary President who called me as her Secretary following my stint in Young Womens. Two of the most talented people I think I have ever known. Ron worked for an oil distributor (Penns Oil) as a display and program developer. He worked out of Los Angeles mainly. Dot was a genius at sewing. She could lay a piece of clothe on the floor and cut out a dress, skirt, blouse well you name it without a pattern. She knew fabric like the back of her hand. In fact she worked for years before her retirement for a Fabric Store. She would buy fabric for them. She was great at a lot of things.
Ron could build about anything. He remodeled their kitchen about 4 times in the time I knew them.
Ron was not a member of the Church when I first was acquainted with them. He was a Mason and had a great many questions about the Mormons, even though he married one. Dorothy was a Higham before she married Ron. They had two daughters and then much later they had two boys. The youngest had meninjitus (sp) when he was a baby. A sharp kid, but a bit spoiled from all his illness. The two older girls were out of the house by the time we became friends. Ron had a trailed outside the house where he instructed new members of the Masonic Lodge. So you might say he was very envolved at the time.
Ron had built the house they lived in Pico Rivera. It had the largest living room I believe I had ever been in. It was used for a great many socials for the Church and especially for firesides. I believe what started Ron thinking about joining the Church was when an author of the book "Mormons and Masonry" was in town. He offered to speak at a fireside in the area and the Johnsons' offered their home. It was an interesting meeting, and Ron became a fast friend of the speaker. They spent hours discussing the differences and problems that existed between the Lodge and the Church. All the early leaders of the Church were Masons, that is why there has been such feelings I guess. In fact Nauvoo had a Lodge of its' own before Joseph and Hyrum were killed in Carthage, Illinois.
It was from this meeting Ron allowed the Missionaries to come. He took the lessons and was baptized. He was a very faithful and active member from then until he passed away. It was during this time they became "Rot and Don". It seemed I could not say their names any other way. I have no idea why. Dorothy always had some project or another going, and I in one way or another got envolved. It was during this time we put on a great many "Penny Carnivals" for the Primary Childrens Hospital. We made a lot of money for the Hospital during this time. It was a lot of work, but Dot was so talented, we did a lot of fun things with the kids and it paid very well.
When there were sales at the May Company Basement in Los Angeles, Ron would come by and pick Dot and I up and take us to the store and drop us off to shop. He would go about his work and when he was ready to go back toward Pico Rivera he would come down to the Basement where we were having a "blast" shopping the sale. When he would catch our eye he would point his thumb over his shoulder and simple say "out". It was time for us to go. Those were some pretty fun filled days for us. Some of the time Ron would take us down to "Phillipis" for a sandwich and pickel. If you ever get a chance to go, take my advise and go. The food is great, the service an experience in itself and the enviornment one in a million. It is down by the Union Station and Olvera Street in Los Angeles.
Ron was a work-a-holic to say the least. He was over weight and had high blood pressure but none of us realized he had a heart condition as well. One Saturday he was mowing the lawn and had chest pains. It brought him to his knees, but he passed it off as too much heat. Dot was not so sure it was that simple. She took him to the Doctor. They learned he was in need of some
more extensive testing and care. He was put in the Hospital in Anaheim. We had moved from Pico Rivera by then so were close to where Ron was having all this testing done. Dot was working and could only visit in the evenings. I was only a short distance from the Hospital so I went every afternoon to see how Ron was doing. A group of us had planned a Cruise down to the Carabean a little later and wanted Ron fit and ready for the adventure. Everyday I would pop in and we would talk about the trip and what test or another they had done that day. One day he was telling me all about the "open heart surgery" they would be performing. It sounded complicated, but Ron sounded very optomistic about it.
One day while I was visiting with him he asked me if I saw anyone in the room. I looked around and said no, just you and me, why? He shrugged it off and we didn't talk about it anymore. One afternoon after I had gone home he called and asked if I could find out if he had ever sealed his parents in the Temple. We had a Family History Library close so I went over and looked it up on the Micro Fische and found his parents had been sealed. When I called him to tell him he said he was relieved he would hate to see them and have to explain how he had overlooked it. A few days later when I went to see him he talked about the surgery again. He said the Doctor had told him when he woke up he would have all kinds of tubes running in and out of him, but he was not to let it excite him, they were temporary, and he would not have to have them for long. He told the Doctor if he could get him to where he woke up and knew they were there he would be satisfied. We laughed and talked more about someone being in his room. He told me he had seen people in the corner. None had moved toward him, or talked to him. They just seemed to stand there. I still didn't see anyone. It was the day before the operation, we had a great visit and talked about the Cruise coming up. Before I left Ron asked me not to come for the surgery. I told him I had been there every other day, and I would certainly be there for that. Just as I left he said: "please don't come tomorrow". I hugged him and said: "I'll be here". As it walked out the door he asked me again not to come, I just smiled and said: "I love you!" and left the hospital. When I arrived the next day all the family was there. We sat in the waiting room and the Doctor came in and talked to us about the surgery. It had gone well. The repared heart had begun to beat on its' own when it was reconnected. Everything was fine. We could see Ron after he was removed from recovery.
As we all sat there talking about how relieved we were it was over and how anxious we all were to see Ron we heard a "code blue" alert over the inter com. Dot became anxious as did the others. I spoke up and told them there was a lot going on in the hospital, this did not mean Ron was envolved. The Son-in-law who was a Fireman came over to me and thanked me for getting things under control so quickly. Neither he nor I knew for sure, but it was still a question on everyones mind. Shortly after that a nurse came and asked us if we could come with her she would take us to a private room. This did not look good. We were in the room for quite awhile before the Surgeon came in and told us Ron had not survived. The operation was a success, but the patient died. Dot asked what had happened. The Doctor explained Ron had come around and had talked to them. All systems were working, there was no alarms at all. Just as suddenly they had lost blood pressure and pulse, he was gone - for no apparent reason. Dot told the Doctor he could not have told her anything more comforting. Ron had gone with no reason. He was whole, he could have survived, but he chose to go.
About three months following the funeral I asked David Dimmick if he had any insight into the matter. He told me Ron had asked a number of the Brethern he was close to, to administer to him the Sunday before he went to the Hospital. He told me there was not one of them who did not know Ron would not survive - it was his time to pass beyond the veil. Ron thanked each one of them and told them he understood. He did not let any of the family, or me know, he just went through all the motions and did exactly what he wanted. He came through the surgery and knew that it had gone well. Once he knew that, he was ready to leave - and so he did.
I lost one of the dearest friends I have ever had. Ron was a choice spirit. I concidered Ron and David my two Gospel Brothers. They were always there for me. They loved me and I loved them with a true Gospel Love. They are both gone now. What a reunion we have ahead of us.
I trust I will remain as true and stead fast as these two Brethern did.
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Mother and Jeff Jorgenson
When my parents were in the accident that took my Dads' life and Mother was hurt so badly, we had the opportunity to help her back to health. She was not a member of the Church at the time but had such a great experience with the Church while in the hospital in Lompoc. I guess I should start by telling you about that.
After the accident while they waited for the ambulance to come,the Doctor who had arrived on the scene decided Mother would do better in the samll community of Lompoc in the hospital there. It was a good hospital, and had all the necessary things to assist in Moms' care. When she was admitted through the emergency room, news got out that she was there. The Priesthood arrived as did the Relief Society Sisters. Mother was able to tell them she was not a member, but we were. It was enough to keep them coming on a regular basis the entire time she was there.
When she had progressed enough we were able to bring her home, she came to our house for her extended time to return to full health. As stated elsewhere, I was in the YWMIA at the time and the President, Esther Jorgenson took it upon herself to see to the families every need from the funeral to the coming home of the patient. I guess that is how Jeff, her husband got envolved. He was a large man both in height and structure. He stood about 6' 2" and weighed about 225 lbs. He had a rare condition - he produced too much blood and had to go give blood about every 60 days or so to maintain his own health. Strange, but true.
On Sunday he came to "take" mother to Church. She was not able to walk as yet, so he would come and gather her up in his arms and place he oh, so gently in his big car and deliver her to one of the benches in the Chapel in time for the meeting to start. I think she enjoyed those Sunday meetings very much. Nothing was said about taking lessons, or joining, she was just picked up each week and brought back home.
I am sure that Jay could have done as much. We had an adequate car, and he was certainly big enough to handle Mom, but Jeff made it his personal job. It would not seem too out of the way except to understand at the time Jeff, himself, was an inactive member. I don't know just what had happened in his life, but he had been soured by something, I never learned what. For the entire time Mom was with us, Jeff saw that she was able to attend Church and be brought back home safely. Jeff and Esther had two sons and one daughter. Esther became one of my best friends and her children were near enough the age of Paul that we had more than a Church relationship. Jeff never was active that I recall. He worked at a Bank. I think he was some kind of an officer. Very bright and a swell fella.
I believe his continued care for Mom was one of the major reasons she invited the Missionaries in to hear their message after she had returned home. She was working in her yard when they came by. She took the lessons and was baptized about a year later.
When Jeff passed away some years later, I attended his funeral. It was held in the Chapel at Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier. There was a large gathering of mourners. Most I am sure were not members of the Church. I wasn't late, but the Chapel was pretty full by the time I got
there. I was about 2/3 the way back on the right side. To my right was a large, floor to ceiling window that led to a cement patio. During the service my attention was drawn to that patio, by what I do not recall. When I looked out the windows I saw a large group of people dressed in white standing there. No noticible faces, but I could tell there were both men and women in the group. The scene lasted only a few seconds - then it was gone. I looked down the isle from where I was setting and saw my dear friend Ron Johnson standing in the ilse next to his wife who was setting on the isle. He just stood there next to her with his hands folded, much like the boys do when they are passing the Sacrament. He was looking toward the casket. That scene lasted but a few seconds as well. It too passed from my view. When the Service had ended I walked up to Dot, Rons' wife and asked if she had seen him standing next to her. She said NO!
Ron and Jeff were great friends. I will tell you more about Ron another time.
I have always been greatful to Jeff for his kindness to Mom during those trying weeks she was recovering from the accident and loss of Dad. I believe I was able to see the Spirits of others who Jeff had assisted during his life time, and witness a dear friend come to assist him into the Spirit World. Ron had passed away only a few months earlier. It is such experiences I have been blessed with which have helped strengthen my Testimony and appreciate how valuable my memebership in the Church really is.
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
After the accident while they waited for the ambulance to come,the Doctor who had arrived on the scene decided Mother would do better in the samll community of Lompoc in the hospital there. It was a good hospital, and had all the necessary things to assist in Moms' care. When she was admitted through the emergency room, news got out that she was there. The Priesthood arrived as did the Relief Society Sisters. Mother was able to tell them she was not a member, but we were. It was enough to keep them coming on a regular basis the entire time she was there.
When she had progressed enough we were able to bring her home, she came to our house for her extended time to return to full health. As stated elsewhere, I was in the YWMIA at the time and the President, Esther Jorgenson took it upon herself to see to the families every need from the funeral to the coming home of the patient. I guess that is how Jeff, her husband got envolved. He was a large man both in height and structure. He stood about 6' 2" and weighed about 225 lbs. He had a rare condition - he produced too much blood and had to go give blood about every 60 days or so to maintain his own health. Strange, but true.
On Sunday he came to "take" mother to Church. She was not able to walk as yet, so he would come and gather her up in his arms and place he oh, so gently in his big car and deliver her to one of the benches in the Chapel in time for the meeting to start. I think she enjoyed those Sunday meetings very much. Nothing was said about taking lessons, or joining, she was just picked up each week and brought back home.
I am sure that Jay could have done as much. We had an adequate car, and he was certainly big enough to handle Mom, but Jeff made it his personal job. It would not seem too out of the way except to understand at the time Jeff, himself, was an inactive member. I don't know just what had happened in his life, but he had been soured by something, I never learned what. For the entire time Mom was with us, Jeff saw that she was able to attend Church and be brought back home safely. Jeff and Esther had two sons and one daughter. Esther became one of my best friends and her children were near enough the age of Paul that we had more than a Church relationship. Jeff never was active that I recall. He worked at a Bank. I think he was some kind of an officer. Very bright and a swell fella.
I believe his continued care for Mom was one of the major reasons she invited the Missionaries in to hear their message after she had returned home. She was working in her yard when they came by. She took the lessons and was baptized about a year later.
When Jeff passed away some years later, I attended his funeral. It was held in the Chapel at Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier. There was a large gathering of mourners. Most I am sure were not members of the Church. I wasn't late, but the Chapel was pretty full by the time I got
there. I was about 2/3 the way back on the right side. To my right was a large, floor to ceiling window that led to a cement patio. During the service my attention was drawn to that patio, by what I do not recall. When I looked out the windows I saw a large group of people dressed in white standing there. No noticible faces, but I could tell there were both men and women in the group. The scene lasted only a few seconds - then it was gone. I looked down the isle from where I was setting and saw my dear friend Ron Johnson standing in the ilse next to his wife who was setting on the isle. He just stood there next to her with his hands folded, much like the boys do when they are passing the Sacrament. He was looking toward the casket. That scene lasted but a few seconds as well. It too passed from my view. When the Service had ended I walked up to Dot, Rons' wife and asked if she had seen him standing next to her. She said NO!
Ron and Jeff were great friends. I will tell you more about Ron another time.
I have always been greatful to Jeff for his kindness to Mom during those trying weeks she was recovering from the accident and loss of Dad. I believe I was able to see the Spirits of others who Jeff had assisted during his life time, and witness a dear friend come to assist him into the Spirit World. Ron had passed away only a few months earlier. It is such experiences I have been blessed with which have helped strengthen my Testimony and appreciate how valuable my memebership in the Church really is.
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Beginning in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 1952
I believe I have already shared my conversion story with you. This is a "Spin Off" of that Blog.
When I had been baptized, the Missionaries encouraged me to attend the meetings at the Ward in Whittier. You may remember I was not able to walk during the last part of the Missionary Lessons. When I was able to drive myself, I started attending and found the Ward was not as friendly as I had hoped. I am sure most converts feel that way. There was one fella standing at the door as I approached and he shook my hand and introduced himself. When I went into the chapel, no one else bothered to speak to me. I wasn't there for them anyway, so I took a seat and enjoyed the meeting. It was Sunday School. At that time, Sacrament was served at both the Sunday School in the morning and Sacrament Meeting which was held in the evening. All the other meetings were spaced out during the week. Relief Society was in the morning on Thursday as I recall, Primary was in the afternoons on Wednesday. I have no idea the day or time of MIA, but it was in the evenings as well.
Sunday School was great because they had time to practice the Hymns. It gave me the opportunity to learn new ones. The first one they were practicing then was "I Stand All Amazed". As you may well imagine it is my most favorite Hymn of them all to this day. I thought the man at the door was the Bishop, but I was wrong. I never met the Bishop, and had not the slightest idea even who he was. There were men setting on the stand, but I didn't know enough about the Church to tell just who was who. After attending for a few weeks, I asked the "greeter" if he was Bishop and he laughed and said: "No I'm Cliff" I don't remember his last name now, but it may come to me.
About two weeks after I started to attend Church the Missionaries came by the house and asked me if I would teach a "Primary Class". I had no idea what that was. They explained it was a group of little children and would be a great way for me to learn more about the Church and the Gospel. The class was the "Sunbeams". They gave me the books and told me when and where to go. I studied the little lesson and went on my first day at the proper time and met with those little kids. I was scared to death I would do or say something wrong. They were the typical bunch of little kids. More "motion" than "attention". I managed and left feeling like I could do so much better the next time around.
After about a month or so of teaching, I had met not only the little kids, but a few of the Sisters, so going to Sunday School and Sacrament Meeting wasn't as lonely. One Sunday Morning while I was with some of the other Primary Teachers waiting for Sunday School to start; a very tall and lovely lady walled up to me and asked if I wouldn't like to come to Prayer Meeting before Primary. I asked her what it was, and after she explained I agreed I could do that. She also explained there would be a Stake Primary Meeting in another week, and if I would like to go to that she would see I had a ride. It was over at the Alhambra Building - the Stake was pretty wide spread at that time. We were part of the East Los Angeles Stake.
I was overwhelmed at the help I received at that Stake Primary Meeting. The Stake Leader was so helpful, and full of ideas and little projects I could do with the kids, it opened a whole new world to me. The Stake Music Leader taught the newest Primary Songs that I had missed out on learning. Well, after months of "doing it myself" I found a treasury of wonderful things to help me be the kind of teacher I had wanted to be. As you can see, I was introduced to the Church in rather a "step and fetch it" kind of way. I am not sure I would recommend it for the
general convert, but for me it was great, because I had to lean on myself to start with and then gradually lean on those who were "always there" to gently lead me along. Those Sisters were just great. The Missionaries had brought me along and then finally turned me over to those who could intergrate me into the Ward Family.
Why didn't the Bishop give me the "call"? I have no idea. I do know he was a baker and had his own business. He was under the heavy strain of getting funds and plans for the new building we needed. I have never thought a thing about not being called, in fact, come to think about it, I had never been set apart. Guess the Lord was really taking care of me all the way.
After awhile, I was called to take over the Blazer Class. It was a bunch of very roudy boys that had run through a lot of other Sisters who just refused to teach them any longer. I was just what the Primary President needed. I hadn't been raised with this kind of behavior and would not tolerate it. I went into that class and rather than the boys taming me, I let them know they and I had come to Primary to learn, and learn we would. I learned to love those boys, and they got along well with me. It wasn't all that long until I was moved up to teach the "Trekkers". This is really when the Stake Primary Meetings came in handy. I had not had any Scouting experience and needed all the help I could get to prepare the boys to become Scouts and advance into the Aaronic Priesthood. You know, come to think of it, I have never taught a class of girls in the Primary. I don't know if that was to their advantage, or mine.
It was after the Wards had been divided and we were to meet in the new building I was called to be a councelor in the Young Womens MIA. I had no idea how Esther Jorgenson knew about me. It was a big step from boys to girls, but I accepted the challenge and was off on another adventure as a member of the Church.
Esther encouraged me to go to work and earn my "Golden Gleaner" award. It would help me a great deal in working with the Young Women. I got the book and began the lengthy steps the girls had to take to "Golden Gleaners". I went through the steps and was able to satisfactorily pass each one up to the one about keeping a journal. That was the final one. It would have to be over a longer period of time. I had gone through the rest in about 3 months. It was hard, but I was following the council Esther had given me. One day the Secretary, a Sister I will leave nameless at this point for obvious reasons, complained it was not fair that I could get the same award it had taken her years to complete. You may understand I was quite tender during this time, and after concideration had to agree with her. It really didn't look our sound fair. So I did not complete the final step. I was never a "Golden Gleaner".
I only tell this story here to explain something I had to learn. The Lord has called many over the generations of this world. He has never let anyone who was willing to extend themselves to be less rewarded than those who had been in service from the beginning. Adam and Eve were not given more in the Garden of Eden that any member of the Church can not have, well except the "forbidden fruit". In fact we do not even know what that fruit was. I am sure Adam wanted all his children to be blessed as much as he and Eve had been. We all have to live in a "not so perfect world". We all have to make it through with our own trials and accomplishments. If we are "faithful" we will received the promised blessings. New I was, I did not realize that at the time. When I did discover it, I realized I had not rewarded that Sister by not finishing the steps to become a "Golden Gleaner" I had only denied myself the award. I took nothing from her, she had more time to do what I had worked hard to accomplish in a shorter space of time. I had a new baby and a home to take care of and a growing son and husband. None of these had taken time from her achievement. Once I learned the lesson I have never forgotten, and hope that none of my "daughters" or "sons" for that matter will ever allow someone to come up to them and say: "it isn't fair" that you got something it took them more time to get. We all go forward in our own time, in our own way, and received the reward because we filled the requirements "faithfully". The Lord asks no more of us, and we should not allow anyone else to set standards for us.
I have had other things come up over the years. Things I had to find out for myself if they were correct, or something someone else thought was "fair". My path has always led me to one conclusion, which is: "if you have been called to the job, if you have filled it with faithfulness, and you have been true to the truth; go forward - don't allow anyone else judge you." I trust in the Lord and the sound council of the Priesthood to direct me in all that I do. When trials of any kind come your way, it is best to get good council. Examine your reasons and your conduct. Make adjustments when needed, but do not let anyone else stop or impede your service. I did not join the Church for the people in the Church. I became a member to serve and to help others find their way. I am working out "my own salvation" and not anyone elses. I have found the path somewhat rocky and difficult to get over at times, but I have never found the Lord would leave me without help when I truly sought it.
The years have passed since those first encounters. I am greatful for each one that helped get me to where I am today. I have a strong and sweet testimony of the truthfulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have earned it - the hard way - thankfully. With each experience, with each trial, I have looked deeply into each for the answer of what: "I was suppose to learn by it." I have not taken the time to feel sorry for myself, or to quit. My time here was ment to help me learn 1) who I am - a daughter of God 2) what I will do with my life - learn and become all that I can be and 3) what service really is - helping myself so that I may assist others in the most effective way. It has been said: "if experience is such a great teacher, how come it has such a bad reputation?" I believe it is because our experiences are not ment to keep us down, but to show us how to "pick ourselves up" and "carry on". One has but to look back on all the trials the Pioneers went through to see we all benefit when each of us is willing to continue to strive for something better for those who will follow. It has been said: "life has no stops, no resting places."
We don't coast through life. The only way to get through it I guess is to "charge".
To those who follow, I would advise you continue to "look up". It is the sun (Son) that brings us light and warmth. Everyday may not be "sunny", but the sun is still there. To this I so testify-
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
When I had been baptized, the Missionaries encouraged me to attend the meetings at the Ward in Whittier. You may remember I was not able to walk during the last part of the Missionary Lessons. When I was able to drive myself, I started attending and found the Ward was not as friendly as I had hoped. I am sure most converts feel that way. There was one fella standing at the door as I approached and he shook my hand and introduced himself. When I went into the chapel, no one else bothered to speak to me. I wasn't there for them anyway, so I took a seat and enjoyed the meeting. It was Sunday School. At that time, Sacrament was served at both the Sunday School in the morning and Sacrament Meeting which was held in the evening. All the other meetings were spaced out during the week. Relief Society was in the morning on Thursday as I recall, Primary was in the afternoons on Wednesday. I have no idea the day or time of MIA, but it was in the evenings as well.
Sunday School was great because they had time to practice the Hymns. It gave me the opportunity to learn new ones. The first one they were practicing then was "I Stand All Amazed". As you may well imagine it is my most favorite Hymn of them all to this day. I thought the man at the door was the Bishop, but I was wrong. I never met the Bishop, and had not the slightest idea even who he was. There were men setting on the stand, but I didn't know enough about the Church to tell just who was who. After attending for a few weeks, I asked the "greeter" if he was Bishop and he laughed and said: "No I'm Cliff" I don't remember his last name now, but it may come to me.
About two weeks after I started to attend Church the Missionaries came by the house and asked me if I would teach a "Primary Class". I had no idea what that was. They explained it was a group of little children and would be a great way for me to learn more about the Church and the Gospel. The class was the "Sunbeams". They gave me the books and told me when and where to go. I studied the little lesson and went on my first day at the proper time and met with those little kids. I was scared to death I would do or say something wrong. They were the typical bunch of little kids. More "motion" than "attention". I managed and left feeling like I could do so much better the next time around.
After about a month or so of teaching, I had met not only the little kids, but a few of the Sisters, so going to Sunday School and Sacrament Meeting wasn't as lonely. One Sunday Morning while I was with some of the other Primary Teachers waiting for Sunday School to start; a very tall and lovely lady walled up to me and asked if I wouldn't like to come to Prayer Meeting before Primary. I asked her what it was, and after she explained I agreed I could do that. She also explained there would be a Stake Primary Meeting in another week, and if I would like to go to that she would see I had a ride. It was over at the Alhambra Building - the Stake was pretty wide spread at that time. We were part of the East Los Angeles Stake.
I was overwhelmed at the help I received at that Stake Primary Meeting. The Stake Leader was so helpful, and full of ideas and little projects I could do with the kids, it opened a whole new world to me. The Stake Music Leader taught the newest Primary Songs that I had missed out on learning. Well, after months of "doing it myself" I found a treasury of wonderful things to help me be the kind of teacher I had wanted to be. As you can see, I was introduced to the Church in rather a "step and fetch it" kind of way. I am not sure I would recommend it for the
general convert, but for me it was great, because I had to lean on myself to start with and then gradually lean on those who were "always there" to gently lead me along. Those Sisters were just great. The Missionaries had brought me along and then finally turned me over to those who could intergrate me into the Ward Family.
Why didn't the Bishop give me the "call"? I have no idea. I do know he was a baker and had his own business. He was under the heavy strain of getting funds and plans for the new building we needed. I have never thought a thing about not being called, in fact, come to think about it, I had never been set apart. Guess the Lord was really taking care of me all the way.
After awhile, I was called to take over the Blazer Class. It was a bunch of very roudy boys that had run through a lot of other Sisters who just refused to teach them any longer. I was just what the Primary President needed. I hadn't been raised with this kind of behavior and would not tolerate it. I went into that class and rather than the boys taming me, I let them know they and I had come to Primary to learn, and learn we would. I learned to love those boys, and they got along well with me. It wasn't all that long until I was moved up to teach the "Trekkers". This is really when the Stake Primary Meetings came in handy. I had not had any Scouting experience and needed all the help I could get to prepare the boys to become Scouts and advance into the Aaronic Priesthood. You know, come to think of it, I have never taught a class of girls in the Primary. I don't know if that was to their advantage, or mine.
It was after the Wards had been divided and we were to meet in the new building I was called to be a councelor in the Young Womens MIA. I had no idea how Esther Jorgenson knew about me. It was a big step from boys to girls, but I accepted the challenge and was off on another adventure as a member of the Church.
Esther encouraged me to go to work and earn my "Golden Gleaner" award. It would help me a great deal in working with the Young Women. I got the book and began the lengthy steps the girls had to take to "Golden Gleaners". I went through the steps and was able to satisfactorily pass each one up to the one about keeping a journal. That was the final one. It would have to be over a longer period of time. I had gone through the rest in about 3 months. It was hard, but I was following the council Esther had given me. One day the Secretary, a Sister I will leave nameless at this point for obvious reasons, complained it was not fair that I could get the same award it had taken her years to complete. You may understand I was quite tender during this time, and after concideration had to agree with her. It really didn't look our sound fair. So I did not complete the final step. I was never a "Golden Gleaner".
I only tell this story here to explain something I had to learn. The Lord has called many over the generations of this world. He has never let anyone who was willing to extend themselves to be less rewarded than those who had been in service from the beginning. Adam and Eve were not given more in the Garden of Eden that any member of the Church can not have, well except the "forbidden fruit". In fact we do not even know what that fruit was. I am sure Adam wanted all his children to be blessed as much as he and Eve had been. We all have to live in a "not so perfect world". We all have to make it through with our own trials and accomplishments. If we are "faithful" we will received the promised blessings. New I was, I did not realize that at the time. When I did discover it, I realized I had not rewarded that Sister by not finishing the steps to become a "Golden Gleaner" I had only denied myself the award. I took nothing from her, she had more time to do what I had worked hard to accomplish in a shorter space of time. I had a new baby and a home to take care of and a growing son and husband. None of these had taken time from her achievement. Once I learned the lesson I have never forgotten, and hope that none of my "daughters" or "sons" for that matter will ever allow someone to come up to them and say: "it isn't fair" that you got something it took them more time to get. We all go forward in our own time, in our own way, and received the reward because we filled the requirements "faithfully". The Lord asks no more of us, and we should not allow anyone else to set standards for us.
I have had other things come up over the years. Things I had to find out for myself if they were correct, or something someone else thought was "fair". My path has always led me to one conclusion, which is: "if you have been called to the job, if you have filled it with faithfulness, and you have been true to the truth; go forward - don't allow anyone else judge you." I trust in the Lord and the sound council of the Priesthood to direct me in all that I do. When trials of any kind come your way, it is best to get good council. Examine your reasons and your conduct. Make adjustments when needed, but do not let anyone else stop or impede your service. I did not join the Church for the people in the Church. I became a member to serve and to help others find their way. I am working out "my own salvation" and not anyone elses. I have found the path somewhat rocky and difficult to get over at times, but I have never found the Lord would leave me without help when I truly sought it.
The years have passed since those first encounters. I am greatful for each one that helped get me to where I am today. I have a strong and sweet testimony of the truthfulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have earned it - the hard way - thankfully. With each experience, with each trial, I have looked deeply into each for the answer of what: "I was suppose to learn by it." I have not taken the time to feel sorry for myself, or to quit. My time here was ment to help me learn 1) who I am - a daughter of God 2) what I will do with my life - learn and become all that I can be and 3) what service really is - helping myself so that I may assist others in the most effective way. It has been said: "if experience is such a great teacher, how come it has such a bad reputation?" I believe it is because our experiences are not ment to keep us down, but to show us how to "pick ourselves up" and "carry on". One has but to look back on all the trials the Pioneers went through to see we all benefit when each of us is willing to continue to strive for something better for those who will follow. It has been said: "life has no stops, no resting places."
We don't coast through life. The only way to get through it I guess is to "charge".
To those who follow, I would advise you continue to "look up". It is the sun (Son) that brings us light and warmth. Everyday may not be "sunny", but the sun is still there. To this I so testify-
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Friday, May 29, 2009
Building a New Ward Building
After I joined the Church I learned there were plans to build a new building closer to where we lived. We were meeting then in the old building in Whittier. There were plans for a new Stake Center as well. The Church had grown and the one building was just too small for all the Saints to meet in. Being new, I didn't know much about such things, so I learned as things unfolded.
The members of Whittier First Ward were anxious for us to get our building up and to move out. We were Whittier Second Ward at that time. It didn't take long until we were large enough to divide into two, but that would come after the building was up.
At that time 1952-1954 Wards had to raise 1/2 the value of the building before they could start construction. Work was volunteer where possible. Everyone pitched in to get the work done. What a wonderful time that was. The men would organize into work parties and the women would get meals prepared and on the work site in time for the breaks to eat came around. When
it could be arranged, professionals were asked to come by and give a hand. Bob Redfearn was
a non member married to one of the Primary Teachers. He would drop around after he got off work and give a hand with the plumbing. There were others who did the same. When Saturday rolled around the work really moved along as every man, boy and friend that could came around
showed up to lend a hand. The Relief Society would organize the Sisters in meal planning. When lunch time rolled around a hot meal was spread out for all to enjoy. I mean they were great meals too. No one shirked a call when it came. The women would do what they could. Many were able to paint when the walls were ready for it.
Bishop Norman Jacobson took the assignment to put the ceiling tiles up. He was having trouble getting a volunteer to climb up those high scaffoldings to dob the mastic to hold the tile in place.
One day I was there and he asked if I could help. Well I have to admit height is not my bag. I
was scared, but I climbed that ladder and got on the scaffold and dobbed nearly every tile that went up on the ceiling of the Cultural Hall. They made it out to be a big thing, but I was happy to be part of putting the finishing touches on the building.
I remember cleaning windows and sweeping floors getting ready for their final finish. The Chapel was large and had rose colored windows set in a waffle pattern. It was elegant with White Oak finish. There were sleek benches - they didn't have padded ones back in those days.
The Church set right on the Street. Just a sidewalk in front. The lawn was on the side with a long driveway to parking in the back. There was plenty of parking for both Wards.
When the building was finished the Ward was ready for the division we knew was coming. It was a bit hard on some. The Stake decided to bring some people over from the Montebello Ward to join those from the Fourth Ward that was being formed. The feelings ran pretty high with both groups. Some of the Second Ward who wanted to stay with friends found they were in a small group that would be sent back to Whittier First Ward because of the location of their homes. President Romney of the First Presidency came to Dedicate the building and made the announced changes. When there was a vote those who were chosen to stay with Whittier First Ward apposed the change. President Romeny acknowledge the decent and very graciously noted the voting was in the majority and those who did not vote for the change could meet with him in the Bishops Office following the meeting where he would hear their feelings but noted it would not change the outcome of the vote. It didn't take long however for those groups to meld into their respective Wards. Whittier Second and Fourth Wards moved into the new building. All went well. Some of the Montebello Ward move ins were integrated by giving them meaningful possitions in the new Ward. It wasn't long until you couldn't tell who was who when things rolled along so well.
The benefits of building a building far outweighed the load such a project caused. Friendships were made or deepened. Non member helpers became members and brought new talent into the Wards. Back then they had the Senior Aaronic Priesthood that activated a number of the men who had fallen by the wayside - Jay being one of them. They advanced in the Priesthood and went on to get Temple Recommends and take their families to the Temple. Children learned the value of their meeting house by doing work, and cleaning it getting ready for the Dedication. Time moved things along so that Unions had their say, and nothing could be done without Unions doing the work. No more "do it yourselfers" allowed. Every building had to pass the same inspections before it could be used. That didn't change the fact that someone felt they were being cheated some way. So now all buildings are built by Contractors and Union workers.
Is it good or bad? Who is to say. I only know building that building gave our family a leg up into activity, and we became a "forever family" because of it.
I will never forget those who worked so hard and made every work day worth getting dirty for.
I will remember that dear Bishop Charles Choate who knew how to motivate men who had fallen away. He had been in that number once himself, and remembered how hard it was to get back into activity. I remember those dear Sisters who so beautifuly made up the menu and then got all the food prepared and served so well. Never was there a meal that was too small, or less appetizing. No shortcuts were taken in feeding the workers. Everyone took their part and on Sunday everyone was fed spiritually by those who had shared the work load during the week.
It wasn't the pioneer spirit one thinks of normally, but pioneer it was. When you see a man who hasn't done anything but office work all his adult life come on the job with heavy gloves and still go home with a handful of blisters, you know dedication has been in play. We had a number of those. Bob Redfearn was a classic example of what the Gospel can do. He was straight haired and burly when he first arrived to help with the plumbing. When he was baptized his hair was curly and he was the most dapper guy in town. There was never a project or fund raiser that Bob wasn't first in line for.
Those days may seem gone, but I pray the Lord will give us another such opportunity to be in the ground work of building His Kingdom. There is nothing to equal it. I am so greatful that my conversion put me in the middle of a building project. It was a great experience and one I will cherish.
Written this 29th Day of May, 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
The members of Whittier First Ward were anxious for us to get our building up and to move out. We were Whittier Second Ward at that time. It didn't take long until we were large enough to divide into two, but that would come after the building was up.
At that time 1952-1954 Wards had to raise 1/2 the value of the building before they could start construction. Work was volunteer where possible. Everyone pitched in to get the work done. What a wonderful time that was. The men would organize into work parties and the women would get meals prepared and on the work site in time for the breaks to eat came around. When
it could be arranged, professionals were asked to come by and give a hand. Bob Redfearn was
a non member married to one of the Primary Teachers. He would drop around after he got off work and give a hand with the plumbing. There were others who did the same. When Saturday rolled around the work really moved along as every man, boy and friend that could came around
showed up to lend a hand. The Relief Society would organize the Sisters in meal planning. When lunch time rolled around a hot meal was spread out for all to enjoy. I mean they were great meals too. No one shirked a call when it came. The women would do what they could. Many were able to paint when the walls were ready for it.
Bishop Norman Jacobson took the assignment to put the ceiling tiles up. He was having trouble getting a volunteer to climb up those high scaffoldings to dob the mastic to hold the tile in place.
One day I was there and he asked if I could help. Well I have to admit height is not my bag. I
was scared, but I climbed that ladder and got on the scaffold and dobbed nearly every tile that went up on the ceiling of the Cultural Hall. They made it out to be a big thing, but I was happy to be part of putting the finishing touches on the building.
I remember cleaning windows and sweeping floors getting ready for their final finish. The Chapel was large and had rose colored windows set in a waffle pattern. It was elegant with White Oak finish. There were sleek benches - they didn't have padded ones back in those days.
The Church set right on the Street. Just a sidewalk in front. The lawn was on the side with a long driveway to parking in the back. There was plenty of parking for both Wards.
When the building was finished the Ward was ready for the division we knew was coming. It was a bit hard on some. The Stake decided to bring some people over from the Montebello Ward to join those from the Fourth Ward that was being formed. The feelings ran pretty high with both groups. Some of the Second Ward who wanted to stay with friends found they were in a small group that would be sent back to Whittier First Ward because of the location of their homes. President Romney of the First Presidency came to Dedicate the building and made the announced changes. When there was a vote those who were chosen to stay with Whittier First Ward apposed the change. President Romeny acknowledge the decent and very graciously noted the voting was in the majority and those who did not vote for the change could meet with him in the Bishops Office following the meeting where he would hear their feelings but noted it would not change the outcome of the vote. It didn't take long however for those groups to meld into their respective Wards. Whittier Second and Fourth Wards moved into the new building. All went well. Some of the Montebello Ward move ins were integrated by giving them meaningful possitions in the new Ward. It wasn't long until you couldn't tell who was who when things rolled along so well.
The benefits of building a building far outweighed the load such a project caused. Friendships were made or deepened. Non member helpers became members and brought new talent into the Wards. Back then they had the Senior Aaronic Priesthood that activated a number of the men who had fallen by the wayside - Jay being one of them. They advanced in the Priesthood and went on to get Temple Recommends and take their families to the Temple. Children learned the value of their meeting house by doing work, and cleaning it getting ready for the Dedication. Time moved things along so that Unions had their say, and nothing could be done without Unions doing the work. No more "do it yourselfers" allowed. Every building had to pass the same inspections before it could be used. That didn't change the fact that someone felt they were being cheated some way. So now all buildings are built by Contractors and Union workers.
Is it good or bad? Who is to say. I only know building that building gave our family a leg up into activity, and we became a "forever family" because of it.
I will never forget those who worked so hard and made every work day worth getting dirty for.
I will remember that dear Bishop Charles Choate who knew how to motivate men who had fallen away. He had been in that number once himself, and remembered how hard it was to get back into activity. I remember those dear Sisters who so beautifuly made up the menu and then got all the food prepared and served so well. Never was there a meal that was too small, or less appetizing. No shortcuts were taken in feeding the workers. Everyone took their part and on Sunday everyone was fed spiritually by those who had shared the work load during the week.
It wasn't the pioneer spirit one thinks of normally, but pioneer it was. When you see a man who hasn't done anything but office work all his adult life come on the job with heavy gloves and still go home with a handful of blisters, you know dedication has been in play. We had a number of those. Bob Redfearn was a classic example of what the Gospel can do. He was straight haired and burly when he first arrived to help with the plumbing. When he was baptized his hair was curly and he was the most dapper guy in town. There was never a project or fund raiser that Bob wasn't first in line for.
Those days may seem gone, but I pray the Lord will give us another such opportunity to be in the ground work of building His Kingdom. There is nothing to equal it. I am so greatful that my conversion put me in the middle of a building project. It was a great experience and one I will cherish.
Written this 29th Day of May, 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
The Taft Mission Home
When we lived in Taft, California the California Mission had Headquarters in Los Angeles. In fact the Mission Home was on the Temple Grounds on Santa Monica Blvd. It took care of the entire State of California. Taft was a small town 50 miles from Bakersfield - where the Stake Center was located. The Church was not as large in that area as it is today.
Assigning Missionaries to Taft ment they were sent to Bakersfield and then brought over to Taft. There was no other way to get them there. The Zone Leaders were in Bakersfield. When new Missionaries came to town they were picked up by the Zone Leaders and brought to Taft.
This would mean that one Missionary usually left in the morning and the new Companion did
not arrive until late that night. The single Missionary had to stay with a Priesthood Holder in town until his Companion arrived.
Our Son Paul was called and was serving in the North British Mission at the time and our Daughter Dawn was only 13 years old. After being cleared by the Mission President at the time, it was deamed safe to leave the single Missionary with Jay. When the new Companion arrived he was brought to our home to meet the Missionary he would be working with. The arrival was not always accomplished during regular hours. Buses were generally used, and routes were not all that set during those years. We received Elder Webster around 10 in the evening. He was worn out, it was cold and he was dressed in an Air Corp overcoat to keep warm. He leaned on the door casing while he rang the bell. When I answered the bell, he said: "I'm Elder Webster".
I quickly replied: "Daniel I presume?". Well his name wasn't "Daniel", but he was dubbed that
and we still call him that after all these years. He lives in Rigby, Idaho, or did the last we heard
from him.
The Missioinaries did their laundry at our home. They brought their mending there to be done.
When they didn't have any place else to grab a bite to eat, they dropped around to our place and always found something to fill the void. It was a choice time for our family. We shared the tapes Paul sent home with them, and it helped brighten up their Mission as well as our home. On Holidays requests were accepted to have the Missionaries to our home if they did not received an invitation some place else. I guess we had the opportunity on many occasion to help some of the Elders over rough spots like Dear John Letters and sickness at home. Fortunately we did not have any deaths during that time.
When there was a baptism, the family supported the Missionaries and their Convert.
Being such a small town ment most everyone would come out and help welcome newcomers into the small Ward there. It was a small building, and the carpets had been specially loomed with
"T" a very interesting design really. They are gone now - the old Chapel was raised and a new
one built. The Church had a large lot in town. Part of it had been raised to meet the Street in front, while in the back it dropped off into a vacant lot. I believe the Church now faces the side
street and the lot was leveled for the new building. I have never been back, so I don't know for sure.
Stake Meetings were held in a City Building. It was quite large and held a big Congregation. I don't remember what the name of the place was, but it was a nice place to meet in. There was always a break between Sessions when people would find a place to eat lunch. Like I say the Church was not as wide spread in the area as it is today. There are two Stakes in Bakersfield now. There are some larger buildings throughout the area. Nothing like when we lived there.
Of course the Mission has been divided a number of times since then as well. Nothing ever seems to stay the same.
The Missionaries lived in an apartment above the Mortuary back then. Bishop Brown and his Uncle Patriarch of the Stake Wm. O. Erickson owned the Mortuary. An interesting sideline to that was "Pappy" or Wm. O. married Hortense "Tenny" Allred who was the Aunt of Elder Bruce R. McConkie. Her sister, the mother of Bruce R. use to spend summers with us in Taft. What a dear lady she was. "Tenny" was such a special friend. She had been an "old maid school teacher" when she met and married "Pappy". Their home was home to the entire Ward. We
loved them so. Sadly, they are all gone now.
We were blessed to have been singled out to be "Mission Home" in Taft for so many wonderful young men who were serving the Lord at that time. We have visited some of them since they returned home, and had a chance to meet their families. Very special indeed. A number kept in touch for a time, however we have lost contact with all but one. Elder Douglas Evert still calls every Christmas to say hello. He remembers, as I am sure the others do, that we had been named; "Mother Goose" and "The Dirty Old Man". That name came from a TV program at the time because Jay was always greasy from working on his truck. It was an endearing "handle".
The Missionaries got a kick out of calling us by our "Mission Names".
It got hot in Taft and we had a swimming pool. The Missionaries couldn't swin but it was not uncommon to see them roll up their trousers and dangle their feet in the water to cool off in
the evening. Those were some friendly and fun times for all. A place to come and lay down the load of the day. Have a cool drink, a sandwich, or a meal and play with the dog. We had a piano and it was used to relax as well. Holidays were special because they had a touch of home when they had time to drop around. Their phone calls home were just a little more enjoyed because they could make them from our living room rather than a phone booth. I am so greatful we had a home that was worthy to be set aside as a place where they could come and remain in the spirit of the work they had been called to do. We had some neat experiences. I would tell more, but it might invade the privacy of some, so I will end with this. Mission Friends are made with an everlasting relationship I am sure will be enjoyed elsewhere when the time and the conditions are right. I look forward to that time.
Written the 29th of May, 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Assigning Missionaries to Taft ment they were sent to Bakersfield and then brought over to Taft. There was no other way to get them there. The Zone Leaders were in Bakersfield. When new Missionaries came to town they were picked up by the Zone Leaders and brought to Taft.
This would mean that one Missionary usually left in the morning and the new Companion did
not arrive until late that night. The single Missionary had to stay with a Priesthood Holder in town until his Companion arrived.
Our Son Paul was called and was serving in the North British Mission at the time and our Daughter Dawn was only 13 years old. After being cleared by the Mission President at the time, it was deamed safe to leave the single Missionary with Jay. When the new Companion arrived he was brought to our home to meet the Missionary he would be working with. The arrival was not always accomplished during regular hours. Buses were generally used, and routes were not all that set during those years. We received Elder Webster around 10 in the evening. He was worn out, it was cold and he was dressed in an Air Corp overcoat to keep warm. He leaned on the door casing while he rang the bell. When I answered the bell, he said: "I'm Elder Webster".
I quickly replied: "Daniel I presume?". Well his name wasn't "Daniel", but he was dubbed that
and we still call him that after all these years. He lives in Rigby, Idaho, or did the last we heard
from him.
The Missioinaries did their laundry at our home. They brought their mending there to be done.
When they didn't have any place else to grab a bite to eat, they dropped around to our place and always found something to fill the void. It was a choice time for our family. We shared the tapes Paul sent home with them, and it helped brighten up their Mission as well as our home. On Holidays requests were accepted to have the Missionaries to our home if they did not received an invitation some place else. I guess we had the opportunity on many occasion to help some of the Elders over rough spots like Dear John Letters and sickness at home. Fortunately we did not have any deaths during that time.
When there was a baptism, the family supported the Missionaries and their Convert.
Being such a small town ment most everyone would come out and help welcome newcomers into the small Ward there. It was a small building, and the carpets had been specially loomed with
"T" a very interesting design really. They are gone now - the old Chapel was raised and a new
one built. The Church had a large lot in town. Part of it had been raised to meet the Street in front, while in the back it dropped off into a vacant lot. I believe the Church now faces the side
street and the lot was leveled for the new building. I have never been back, so I don't know for sure.
Stake Meetings were held in a City Building. It was quite large and held a big Congregation. I don't remember what the name of the place was, but it was a nice place to meet in. There was always a break between Sessions when people would find a place to eat lunch. Like I say the Church was not as wide spread in the area as it is today. There are two Stakes in Bakersfield now. There are some larger buildings throughout the area. Nothing like when we lived there.
Of course the Mission has been divided a number of times since then as well. Nothing ever seems to stay the same.
The Missionaries lived in an apartment above the Mortuary back then. Bishop Brown and his Uncle Patriarch of the Stake Wm. O. Erickson owned the Mortuary. An interesting sideline to that was "Pappy" or Wm. O. married Hortense "Tenny" Allred who was the Aunt of Elder Bruce R. McConkie. Her sister, the mother of Bruce R. use to spend summers with us in Taft. What a dear lady she was. "Tenny" was such a special friend. She had been an "old maid school teacher" when she met and married "Pappy". Their home was home to the entire Ward. We
loved them so. Sadly, they are all gone now.
We were blessed to have been singled out to be "Mission Home" in Taft for so many wonderful young men who were serving the Lord at that time. We have visited some of them since they returned home, and had a chance to meet their families. Very special indeed. A number kept in touch for a time, however we have lost contact with all but one. Elder Douglas Evert still calls every Christmas to say hello. He remembers, as I am sure the others do, that we had been named; "Mother Goose" and "The Dirty Old Man". That name came from a TV program at the time because Jay was always greasy from working on his truck. It was an endearing "handle".
The Missionaries got a kick out of calling us by our "Mission Names".
It got hot in Taft and we had a swimming pool. The Missionaries couldn't swin but it was not uncommon to see them roll up their trousers and dangle their feet in the water to cool off in
the evening. Those were some friendly and fun times for all. A place to come and lay down the load of the day. Have a cool drink, a sandwich, or a meal and play with the dog. We had a piano and it was used to relax as well. Holidays were special because they had a touch of home when they had time to drop around. Their phone calls home were just a little more enjoyed because they could make them from our living room rather than a phone booth. I am so greatful we had a home that was worthy to be set aside as a place where they could come and remain in the spirit of the work they had been called to do. We had some neat experiences. I would tell more, but it might invade the privacy of some, so I will end with this. Mission Friends are made with an everlasting relationship I am sure will be enjoyed elsewhere when the time and the conditions are right. I look forward to that time.
Written the 29th of May, 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Getting Ready to Attend the Temple for the First Time
This may be of interest, at least it will be an insight to what it was like to get ready when a new Temple has been dedicated close to where we lived.
I had been a member for about five years when they Los Angeles Temple was built and dedicated. When it opened it had a limited amount of clothing for rent. I was so small at the time it was not possible for me to rent clothing, so the Sisters in the Ward decided they would help get me ready. Lucille Dimmick made my dress. I worked on a slip. The Primary President, I'm sorry to say I don't remember her name, made the things for my Packet, well
all by one piece that I made and have made for each of my children and grand children since.
I found a pair of low heeled shoes, but found when I entered the Temple were not allowed. The heels would dig into the carpets, so they gave me a paid of slippers to wear. I replaced the shoes after that. The other things, usually furnished by the Temple, I also made for both Jay and I.
By the time our date was set, both Jay and I had our own things. Something I believe everyone should have.
The Temple had opened for Patrons in April of 1956 we went through on the 20th of August 1956. Everything was new. All the workers were new. Our Session was at 7 p.m. We got at the Temple around 5:30 p.m. I had made the childrens clothes for the sealing ceremony. We took them to the Nursery and checked in ourselves. Everyone was so kind and helpful. It made our time there such a great experience. Today you could do everything we did then in about 3 hours from start to finish. Like I said, every one was new. We didn't get out of the Temple until about one in the morning.
Los Angeles at that time had live Session like Salt Lake. Modern Technology has made a big difference in the time it takes to complete the ceremonies now. I don't believe I would have changed it however. The length of time was tireing back then, but the spirit and care was so special. I was greatful we had time to prepare ourselves, and our clothing. What a very special time it was and what a blessing to have our friends so helpful in making our experience so great.
I have tried to do a little of that for others over the years. Helping someone get ready, or have a richer experience is worth any cost or time spent. It is like giving them a "gift of self" that will be remembered each time they attend the Temple. Nothing could be better.
Over the years since that first time, I have enjoyed serving as a patron and as an Ordinance Worker. I have researched many of my ancestors and those of my Husbands extended family.
I have served two Missions in Salt Lake City in the Family History Mission where I have processed over one million names for Temple work to be done. I have completed hundreds of baptisms, initiatories, endowments and participated in a large number of sealings. I do not believe there is any more worthy time spent than attending Temple services for those who have not been blessed in mortality with Temple Ordinances. My sincerest regret is I do not live closer to a Temple so I could go weekly and participate in this worthy work.
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
I had been a member for about five years when they Los Angeles Temple was built and dedicated. When it opened it had a limited amount of clothing for rent. I was so small at the time it was not possible for me to rent clothing, so the Sisters in the Ward decided they would help get me ready. Lucille Dimmick made my dress. I worked on a slip. The Primary President, I'm sorry to say I don't remember her name, made the things for my Packet, well
all by one piece that I made and have made for each of my children and grand children since.
I found a pair of low heeled shoes, but found when I entered the Temple were not allowed. The heels would dig into the carpets, so they gave me a paid of slippers to wear. I replaced the shoes after that. The other things, usually furnished by the Temple, I also made for both Jay and I.
By the time our date was set, both Jay and I had our own things. Something I believe everyone should have.
The Temple had opened for Patrons in April of 1956 we went through on the 20th of August 1956. Everything was new. All the workers were new. Our Session was at 7 p.m. We got at the Temple around 5:30 p.m. I had made the childrens clothes for the sealing ceremony. We took them to the Nursery and checked in ourselves. Everyone was so kind and helpful. It made our time there such a great experience. Today you could do everything we did then in about 3 hours from start to finish. Like I said, every one was new. We didn't get out of the Temple until about one in the morning.
Los Angeles at that time had live Session like Salt Lake. Modern Technology has made a big difference in the time it takes to complete the ceremonies now. I don't believe I would have changed it however. The length of time was tireing back then, but the spirit and care was so special. I was greatful we had time to prepare ourselves, and our clothing. What a very special time it was and what a blessing to have our friends so helpful in making our experience so great.
I have tried to do a little of that for others over the years. Helping someone get ready, or have a richer experience is worth any cost or time spent. It is like giving them a "gift of self" that will be remembered each time they attend the Temple. Nothing could be better.
Over the years since that first time, I have enjoyed serving as a patron and as an Ordinance Worker. I have researched many of my ancestors and those of my Husbands extended family.
I have served two Missions in Salt Lake City in the Family History Mission where I have processed over one million names for Temple work to be done. I have completed hundreds of baptisms, initiatories, endowments and participated in a large number of sealings. I do not believe there is any more worthy time spent than attending Temple services for those who have not been blessed in mortality with Temple Ordinances. My sincerest regret is I do not live closer to a Temple so I could go weekly and participate in this worthy work.
Written this 30th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Remembering Pets We Have Had
This cat (MIA) we have today, has come with her own baggage. Personality, well she has one that is sure. Her middle name could be "brush". She has such long fur, and plenty of it that we have to keep her brushed. If we forget, not a problem, she lets us know. I will try and put some pictures up so you can see. What I really had in mind was some of the other pets we have had over the years.
When I was pre-teen we had a cat named Butch. He was a black and white pursian - a real beauty. He was an out door cat mostly, but he loved to ride in cars. That is how we lost him. We took a ride out to one of my Dads' friends who raised pheasants. Butch hitched a ride, the only problem was when he got out of the car, he either got scared, or lost. Call, after call brought no sign of him. In fact the people said they didn't see him around their place. We were all pretty upset over that. He would meet Dad every night when he would come home just so Dad would pick him up by the tail and bring him into the house. It was their time. He would just hang there as Dad walked up the walk and into the house. When Dad would let go of his tail he would run to his food and eat.
We had another cat, I don't remember its name, but it was really odd. One day Mom was cutting up a cantalope for dinner when that cat went crazy. It yowled and ran around the kitchen, then try and stretch up against the cabinets to see what Mom was doing. After she had finished cutting up the cantelope she put it in the Fridge to be cold for our dinner. Next thing we knew the cat was in the sink eating the rinds. It was like the mellon was catnip to that darn cat.
Everytime after that when we had a cantalope there was always some cut up and put in the cats dish for it to enjoy.
Dad would never let us have a dog because he said they would dig up his plants. Dad was quite a gardener. I thought having a dog would be so much fun, but after having a few I didn't believe that anymore. What with cleaning up after them. I didn't have to do that with the cats.
When we lived in Anaheim we had a six toed cat we named "smokey" because of its color. It was a good cat. Someone poisoned it - sad to say. The neat thing about "smokey" was Jay built a tall scratch pole with multi levels of purches. The cat would run and grab onto the carpet Jay had covered it with and climb to the top purch and watch us. I bought a catnip mouse one day and it became the source of a great many hours of play. I would put it on the top purch with just a small part of the nose sticking over the edge. When "smokey" would be in the living room I would ask: "where is that mouse"? "smokey would look up on the purch and if the mouse was there she would hit that pole and be up to the top in a flash - then the mouse was thrown from the purch just as far as she could toss it with her mouth, or slap it with a huge paw. Apparently nothing was to be on that pole but her.
We had a number of six toed cats over the year. They were a lot of fun to watch play. Good pets as well. The last few we had we got from the Nelson Family while we lived in Taft. They had a Mama cat that always seemed to have an ample supply of kittens who needed homes.
I believe one of the best pets Paul ever had was a long haired Chuahua (sp). We had a friend named Dean Bixby. They had pedigrees they bred for puppies to sell. Jay and Paul use to Home Teach there and Paul worked for Dean as a helper in his Janitorial Service. Anyway Paul had just loved playing with the little dogs and was so good with them. One litter had this darling little brown and white pup that looked very much like a collie - like Lassie - One day Dean called and asked if Paul could come over after school. So when Paul go home I told him Dean wanted to see him. He hopped on his bike and rode over the few blocks to see what Dean wanted. A short time later he came riding up in the driveway holding this little Pedigre Pup, no bigger than a handful of fluff. She was so small we kept her on the sofa for about a week just to make sure we didn't step on her. She would just set there and watch us. We had a hard time naming her, but finally came up with a name the registry would accept. "Pauls Pride". We called her "Sissy". Well I called her "Tidder Babe". Every time Paul would take her over to Deans she would latch on to her mother for a snack. I think she was nearly the best pet we ever had. We took her with us to the River. It was hot out on that desert, so when we were in the car she would lay on the seat between Jay and I on a wet towel and a wet one over her. A little air conditioned space just for her. She loved going with us. If we went someplace we couldn't take her we would put her in a kennel. She rarely barked at home, but at the kennel she was a regular watch dog. She let them know when anyone was coming. One time she barked so much she lost her voice. It took her quite awhile before it came back.
Then when we were "empty nesters" Paul brought us a border collie we named "mitzi". She was Jays dog from day one. She would go everywhere Jay would take her. Saturdays were her favorite day of the week. Jay would take her with him when he went to work on the truck. He would stop at the donut shop and get her a chocolate donut on their way to work. She would set in the riders seat and be as proud as she could be. In fact when we traveled, I never got to ride in that seat. She would hop in and I would have to ride in the back seat. She was Daddies Girl.
At night she would lay beside Jay in his LazyBoy chair. They were buddies. Once we learned her ways, she was a great watch dog. She never barked if there was trouble. She would do a very quiet low growl. It sounded like she was trying to say something. We knew when she did that we needed to be watchful, something wasn't right.
Paul brought us another dog we named "muffy". She was a smaller collie than "mitzi". They were a pair. Jay didn't take her with him like he did "mitzi". Both dogs were great with the Grand Children. Mitzi particularly would herd them around. She wouldn't let them wonder off the patio. I never understood that. She seemed to think the Yard was hers. One funny thing
"mitzi" did - she buried a large chunk of ice. It was hot and she was panting, so Jay had a piece of ice and put it in her water dish. She was apparently attracted to it, she spent a great deal of effort and time getting it out of the dish and to a spot where she quickly dug a hole and buried it. We watched the whole thing and laughed when she had finished the job. We hoped she didn't want it later. I don't recall her trying to dig in that spot again.
I think everyone should have a pet. Especially when they are young and particularly when they are old. They are a source of comfort and great enjoyment. We have been blessed with a number that the children enjoyed, and some we have in our home for a long period of time. It is always sad when they are lost, stolen or get old. A good home makes sure an animal is kept with care and not allowed to suffer.
Written this 30th day of June 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
When I was pre-teen we had a cat named Butch. He was a black and white pursian - a real beauty. He was an out door cat mostly, but he loved to ride in cars. That is how we lost him. We took a ride out to one of my Dads' friends who raised pheasants. Butch hitched a ride, the only problem was when he got out of the car, he either got scared, or lost. Call, after call brought no sign of him. In fact the people said they didn't see him around their place. We were all pretty upset over that. He would meet Dad every night when he would come home just so Dad would pick him up by the tail and bring him into the house. It was their time. He would just hang there as Dad walked up the walk and into the house. When Dad would let go of his tail he would run to his food and eat.
We had another cat, I don't remember its name, but it was really odd. One day Mom was cutting up a cantalope for dinner when that cat went crazy. It yowled and ran around the kitchen, then try and stretch up against the cabinets to see what Mom was doing. After she had finished cutting up the cantelope she put it in the Fridge to be cold for our dinner. Next thing we knew the cat was in the sink eating the rinds. It was like the mellon was catnip to that darn cat.
Everytime after that when we had a cantalope there was always some cut up and put in the cats dish for it to enjoy.
Dad would never let us have a dog because he said they would dig up his plants. Dad was quite a gardener. I thought having a dog would be so much fun, but after having a few I didn't believe that anymore. What with cleaning up after them. I didn't have to do that with the cats.
When we lived in Anaheim we had a six toed cat we named "smokey" because of its color. It was a good cat. Someone poisoned it - sad to say. The neat thing about "smokey" was Jay built a tall scratch pole with multi levels of purches. The cat would run and grab onto the carpet Jay had covered it with and climb to the top purch and watch us. I bought a catnip mouse one day and it became the source of a great many hours of play. I would put it on the top purch with just a small part of the nose sticking over the edge. When "smokey" would be in the living room I would ask: "where is that mouse"? "smokey would look up on the purch and if the mouse was there she would hit that pole and be up to the top in a flash - then the mouse was thrown from the purch just as far as she could toss it with her mouth, or slap it with a huge paw. Apparently nothing was to be on that pole but her.
We had a number of six toed cats over the year. They were a lot of fun to watch play. Good pets as well. The last few we had we got from the Nelson Family while we lived in Taft. They had a Mama cat that always seemed to have an ample supply of kittens who needed homes.
I believe one of the best pets Paul ever had was a long haired Chuahua (sp). We had a friend named Dean Bixby. They had pedigrees they bred for puppies to sell. Jay and Paul use to Home Teach there and Paul worked for Dean as a helper in his Janitorial Service. Anyway Paul had just loved playing with the little dogs and was so good with them. One litter had this darling little brown and white pup that looked very much like a collie - like Lassie - One day Dean called and asked if Paul could come over after school. So when Paul go home I told him Dean wanted to see him. He hopped on his bike and rode over the few blocks to see what Dean wanted. A short time later he came riding up in the driveway holding this little Pedigre Pup, no bigger than a handful of fluff. She was so small we kept her on the sofa for about a week just to make sure we didn't step on her. She would just set there and watch us. We had a hard time naming her, but finally came up with a name the registry would accept. "Pauls Pride". We called her "Sissy". Well I called her "Tidder Babe". Every time Paul would take her over to Deans she would latch on to her mother for a snack. I think she was nearly the best pet we ever had. We took her with us to the River. It was hot out on that desert, so when we were in the car she would lay on the seat between Jay and I on a wet towel and a wet one over her. A little air conditioned space just for her. She loved going with us. If we went someplace we couldn't take her we would put her in a kennel. She rarely barked at home, but at the kennel she was a regular watch dog. She let them know when anyone was coming. One time she barked so much she lost her voice. It took her quite awhile before it came back.
Then when we were "empty nesters" Paul brought us a border collie we named "mitzi". She was Jays dog from day one. She would go everywhere Jay would take her. Saturdays were her favorite day of the week. Jay would take her with him when he went to work on the truck. He would stop at the donut shop and get her a chocolate donut on their way to work. She would set in the riders seat and be as proud as she could be. In fact when we traveled, I never got to ride in that seat. She would hop in and I would have to ride in the back seat. She was Daddies Girl.
At night she would lay beside Jay in his LazyBoy chair. They were buddies. Once we learned her ways, she was a great watch dog. She never barked if there was trouble. She would do a very quiet low growl. It sounded like she was trying to say something. We knew when she did that we needed to be watchful, something wasn't right.
Paul brought us another dog we named "muffy". She was a smaller collie than "mitzi". They were a pair. Jay didn't take her with him like he did "mitzi". Both dogs were great with the Grand Children. Mitzi particularly would herd them around. She wouldn't let them wonder off the patio. I never understood that. She seemed to think the Yard was hers. One funny thing
"mitzi" did - she buried a large chunk of ice. It was hot and she was panting, so Jay had a piece of ice and put it in her water dish. She was apparently attracted to it, she spent a great deal of effort and time getting it out of the dish and to a spot where she quickly dug a hole and buried it. We watched the whole thing and laughed when she had finished the job. We hoped she didn't want it later. I don't recall her trying to dig in that spot again.
I think everyone should have a pet. Especially when they are young and particularly when they are old. They are a source of comfort and great enjoyment. We have been blessed with a number that the children enjoyed, and some we have in our home for a long period of time. It is always sad when they are lost, stolen or get old. A good home makes sure an animal is kept with care and not allowed to suffer.
Written this 30th day of June 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Monday, May 25, 2009
Shayla Taught Me How To Change My Blog
To say the least, I am no hand at this yet! Thanks to Grand Children who are more computer savey I am learning new things all the time. I have changed the back ground a couple of times since I have been here for a visit. This time I wrote down all the "clicks" and menu prompts so when I go home I can change to another one when the mood stikes me.
Blogging is really fun, and I enjoy setting down at the computer and running through thoughts that I think might be of some interest to one or more of the family members. It is rewarding to think any of the "ramblings" I have, could be read and beneficial to anyone. The feed back has been most heartening for me personally.
In case you hadn't heard, my children gave me a Digital Camera for my 80th Birthday, so soon I will be able to add some pictures to what I send along the Blog-us-phere. That will add a little more interest to the things I Blog, or hopefully it will. I still have to learn all the ins and outs of the camera first however. Curtis has shown me some, and Shayla has shown me how to plug a camera into the computer. I didn't bring that part of the Camera with me, so I will have to play with it when I return home.
Sooner or later, I will get this down, and then you had better look out, I will be boring you on all sorts of things. I do promise however that you won't have to put up with seeing that much of my face. Don't want to spoil things you know!
In the mean time, I hope you enjoy the new look!? I think it is a nice one.
Written this 25th day of May 2009
Eileen Rosenberg
Blogging is really fun, and I enjoy setting down at the computer and running through thoughts that I think might be of some interest to one or more of the family members. It is rewarding to think any of the "ramblings" I have, could be read and beneficial to anyone. The feed back has been most heartening for me personally.
In case you hadn't heard, my children gave me a Digital Camera for my 80th Birthday, so soon I will be able to add some pictures to what I send along the Blog-us-phere. That will add a little more interest to the things I Blog, or hopefully it will. I still have to learn all the ins and outs of the camera first however. Curtis has shown me some, and Shayla has shown me how to plug a camera into the computer. I didn't bring that part of the Camera with me, so I will have to play with it when I return home.
Sooner or later, I will get this down, and then you had better look out, I will be boring you on all sorts of things. I do promise however that you won't have to put up with seeing that much of my face. Don't want to spoil things you know!
In the mean time, I hope you enjoy the new look!? I think it is a nice one.
Written this 25th day of May 2009
Eileen Rosenberg
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tin Can Beach Family Outing
Or should I name this - Dancing in the camp fire?
Well it wasn't really dancing. It was more near hopping out of the camp fire!
Jay and LaMar had wanted to go Surf Fishing - Ruby and I thought it was a perfect time to take the families to the Beach for a "camping weekend". The boys thought that would be fine. They wouldn't have to cook, and would have a better camp site with the family included. Tin Can beach was always the perfect place to go. It was just what it sounding like. The beach was littered with trash from other campers. A space had to be cleared to make sure it was safe for the kids to run and play. (The beach has been cleaned up since we were there. It is now know I believe as Leo Corillia State Beach.) Both families had tents and plenty of equipment to make everyone comfortable. The children, Gary, Joe, Paul and Dawn loved having the space to run and play, plus the surf to swin in. Ruby and I enjoyed the company and time to have with the families.
The men would get their bucket and poles and go down to the edge of the surf and cast off their lines and hope they could catch something. They would stay at it all day. Anything they caught we were able to clean and fix for dinner. I believe the corbina was the best eating fish. Even if they didn't catch anything it was good bonding time between the two brothers.
The first night we were there, the men thought they made a great find. A hatch cover from a ship washed on shore, and they salvaged a plank for the fire. Before we went to bed they put it on the fire and it kept things going all night long, and most of the day. As that plank burned in the middle, there were large portions on either side that hadn't burned. They were pushed into fire ring to finish burning. None of us thought a thing about it.
When I landed, I started throwing sand on my foot hoping to stop some of the burning. No such luck. LaMar had heard me scream and came running with the bucket of sea water into which he
put my foot and leg, I amazingly found instant relief. I am pretty sure that helped the burn. The salt was a healing agent and the water was a natural releif for the heat. When they pulled my foot and leg out of the bucket, the burning was as intense, but I couldn't keep my foot in the water. They wrapped me in a clean towel and put me in the car and rushed me to the Doctor. The burn was pretty extensive. All the toes, in between the toes ,and the side of my ankle where I had flipped, putting my leg in the hot sand too. The Doctor put some treated gauze in between my toes, then wrapped my foot and leg and sent me home.
Those were the worst days of my life as that burn healed. One thing you learn about burn pain is there is no time it ebbs. It just keeps burning. Every nerve is effected and screams that it is not happy. There were few moments of relief. I was unable to walk, so spent most of my time in bed.
We never returned to the camp site. Ruby and LaMar broke camp and brought everything back home. I don't know what happened to the dinner we were preparing, whats more I didn't really care what happened to it either!
A month later I was to accompany the Girls from the Church up to Cumorah Crest for Girls Camp. I had to wear white stockings all the time to make sure I didn't get an infection. One afternoon the group I was with had swimming. I reported to the Nurse and she said it would be O.K. for me to get into the water. I just needed to be careful when I got out of the pool to put my stocking and shoes on before I walked anywhere. When I got out of the water everyone just stared at me. My whole foot and up the side of my leg was one solid blister. Up until then I did not have a blister anywhere. The outer skin had apparently died. When I got into that water the fluid filled the space between the outer skin and the new skin under it. Some of the leaders gathered me up and carried me up to the Nurse. She quickly cut way the outer skin and drained all that pool water off. It wasn't until then I realized the size of the burn I had. I never wondered again just why I had hurt for so long.
Moral of the story. Number one - you don't put wood on a fire that is longer than the size of the fire ring. Number two - you don't go near a fire area without SHOES on. Just because I wasn't wise doesn't mean anyone else has to be THATdumb.
Written this 21st day of May, 2009
by Eileen Rosenberg
Well it wasn't really dancing. It was more near hopping out of the camp fire!
Jay and LaMar had wanted to go Surf Fishing - Ruby and I thought it was a perfect time to take the families to the Beach for a "camping weekend". The boys thought that would be fine. They wouldn't have to cook, and would have a better camp site with the family included. Tin Can beach was always the perfect place to go. It was just what it sounding like. The beach was littered with trash from other campers. A space had to be cleared to make sure it was safe for the kids to run and play. (The beach has been cleaned up since we were there. It is now know I believe as Leo Corillia State Beach.) Both families had tents and plenty of equipment to make everyone comfortable. The children, Gary, Joe, Paul and Dawn loved having the space to run and play, plus the surf to swin in. Ruby and I enjoyed the company and time to have with the families.
The men would get their bucket and poles and go down to the edge of the surf and cast off their lines and hope they could catch something. They would stay at it all day. Anything they caught we were able to clean and fix for dinner. I believe the corbina was the best eating fish. Even if they didn't catch anything it was good bonding time between the two brothers.
The first night we were there, the men thought they made a great find. A hatch cover from a ship washed on shore, and they salvaged a plank for the fire. Before we went to bed they put it on the fire and it kept things going all night long, and most of the day. As that plank burned in the middle, there were large portions on either side that hadn't burned. They were pushed into fire ring to finish burning. None of us thought a thing about it.
In the afternoon Ruby and I got busy fixing dinner for the "crew" by sharing the tasks at hand. We had brought some corn in the husks for a large pot of Corn on the Cob. I filled the large pot with water and walked over to the open fire to it in the coals, to get it boiling. I did not realize that the plank had burned along the bottom side making the sand scalding hot. Once I stepped into the sand I experienced the sudden sensation of burning. I seemed to sence if I dropped the pan of water into the fire, more damage could occur. I threw the pan over my head behind me and followed it by flipping myself backwards. (Amazing how acrobatic one becomes when emergency summons.)
When I landed, I started throwing sand on my foot hoping to stop some of the burning. No such luck. LaMar had heard me scream and came running with the bucket of sea water into which he
put my foot and leg, I amazingly found instant relief. I am pretty sure that helped the burn. The salt was a healing agent and the water was a natural releif for the heat. When they pulled my foot and leg out of the bucket, the burning was as intense, but I couldn't keep my foot in the water. They wrapped me in a clean towel and put me in the car and rushed me to the Doctor. The burn was pretty extensive. All the toes, in between the toes ,and the side of my ankle where I had flipped, putting my leg in the hot sand too. The Doctor put some treated gauze in between my toes, then wrapped my foot and leg and sent me home.
Those were the worst days of my life as that burn healed. One thing you learn about burn pain is there is no time it ebbs. It just keeps burning. Every nerve is effected and screams that it is not happy. There were few moments of relief. I was unable to walk, so spent most of my time in bed.
We never returned to the camp site. Ruby and LaMar broke camp and brought everything back home. I don't know what happened to the dinner we were preparing, whats more I didn't really care what happened to it either!
A month later I was to accompany the Girls from the Church up to Cumorah Crest for Girls Camp. I had to wear white stockings all the time to make sure I didn't get an infection. One afternoon the group I was with had swimming. I reported to the Nurse and she said it would be O.K. for me to get into the water. I just needed to be careful when I got out of the pool to put my stocking and shoes on before I walked anywhere. When I got out of the water everyone just stared at me. My whole foot and up the side of my leg was one solid blister. Up until then I did not have a blister anywhere. The outer skin had apparently died. When I got into that water the fluid filled the space between the outer skin and the new skin under it. Some of the leaders gathered me up and carried me up to the Nurse. She quickly cut way the outer skin and drained all that pool water off. It wasn't until then I realized the size of the burn I had. I never wondered again just why I had hurt for so long.
Moral of the story. Number one - you don't put wood on a fire that is longer than the size of the fire ring. Number two - you don't go near a fire area without SHOES on. Just because I wasn't wise doesn't mean anyone else has to be THATdumb.
Written this 21st day of May, 2009
by Eileen Rosenberg
Saturday, May 16, 2009
May Disclaimer for My Blogging
As I have sat here writting, and then later thinking about what I have recalled, it dawned on me what I experienced may not be anywhere near what those I have talked about recall. Now that in no way means I have willingly, or intensionally erred. It simply means we don't all see things in the same light as someone else may.
For instance, children may remember things they way they saw them at the time. It does not change the way I saw or felt about them. When love and family relaltionships are envolved, it is very hard to put one slant on anything. Parents are trying to assist their children into making right choices and actions that will bring them the most happiness. Children feel as if they are being hurded around, corrected, with their feelings seldom concidered along the way. Such is the way things are.
It is amazing how much more intelligent our parents are when we ourselves gain a few years and are launched into parenthood without a code or resource manual. Just how smart we learn our parents were when we ourselves face those experiences of children who would like to make us believe a thing just "didn't really happen that way". I remember appreciating my Mom more after my first encountered "young love" with my own children. I believe I wrote her a long letter thanking her for the example she had set for such times.
I hope you will read with an open mind, and try to put what I remembered into perspective with your own thoughts, if the Blog has you envolved. If you are reading as an observer, I trust you will take from the experience something that will enrich your life, or help you through a similar circumstance with better enlightenment than you would have otherwise had. Everything we face in this life is only a learning experience, and the more we get out of each lesson the better prepared we become for facing the next one that will be waiting for us around the corner. We all have to remember that: "none of us will get out of this alive". With this thought, we move into the next one that is equally as valuable, I hope, "what ever intelligence we attain unto in this life will rise with us in the resurrection".
Each of us has our own personality and character. Both need to be nourished and enlarged while we make our way through this mortal existence. I have never forgotten that: "pretty is as pretty does", that reminded me that it isn't how I looked, but how I acted or reacted that told who and what I was. Conversation is a great asset only so long as our words are in line with good manners and concideration for those who may be listening. Being smart may just sometime mean keeping ones mouth shut. I believe it was Jimmy Stewart in the Movie "Harvey" who had made the observation he chose being "Oh! so pleasant" over being "Oh! so smart". Both have their place in life, the trick is knowing which is correct under the circumstance we are in.
I never thought of myself as pretty, or smart. I'm not sure I was even all that pleasant. I do recall being "fair" was a big part of what I tried to do when dealing with friends or family. It may not have seemed like it to the other party, but it was my goal. Either way, these "ramblings" have been a source of reflection and joy for me. If they have, or will bring half what they brought to me in the remembering, I will have been richly prepaid.
Written this 16th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
For instance, children may remember things they way they saw them at the time. It does not change the way I saw or felt about them. When love and family relaltionships are envolved, it is very hard to put one slant on anything. Parents are trying to assist their children into making right choices and actions that will bring them the most happiness. Children feel as if they are being hurded around, corrected, with their feelings seldom concidered along the way. Such is the way things are.
It is amazing how much more intelligent our parents are when we ourselves gain a few years and are launched into parenthood without a code or resource manual. Just how smart we learn our parents were when we ourselves face those experiences of children who would like to make us believe a thing just "didn't really happen that way". I remember appreciating my Mom more after my first encountered "young love" with my own children. I believe I wrote her a long letter thanking her for the example she had set for such times.
I hope you will read with an open mind, and try to put what I remembered into perspective with your own thoughts, if the Blog has you envolved. If you are reading as an observer, I trust you will take from the experience something that will enrich your life, or help you through a similar circumstance with better enlightenment than you would have otherwise had. Everything we face in this life is only a learning experience, and the more we get out of each lesson the better prepared we become for facing the next one that will be waiting for us around the corner. We all have to remember that: "none of us will get out of this alive". With this thought, we move into the next one that is equally as valuable, I hope, "what ever intelligence we attain unto in this life will rise with us in the resurrection".
Each of us has our own personality and character. Both need to be nourished and enlarged while we make our way through this mortal existence. I have never forgotten that: "pretty is as pretty does", that reminded me that it isn't how I looked, but how I acted or reacted that told who and what I was. Conversation is a great asset only so long as our words are in line with good manners and concideration for those who may be listening. Being smart may just sometime mean keeping ones mouth shut. I believe it was Jimmy Stewart in the Movie "Harvey" who had made the observation he chose being "Oh! so pleasant" over being "Oh! so smart". Both have their place in life, the trick is knowing which is correct under the circumstance we are in.
I never thought of myself as pretty, or smart. I'm not sure I was even all that pleasant. I do recall being "fair" was a big part of what I tried to do when dealing with friends or family. It may not have seemed like it to the other party, but it was my goal. Either way, these "ramblings" have been a source of reflection and joy for me. If they have, or will bring half what they brought to me in the remembering, I will have been richly prepaid.
Written this 16th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Friday, May 15, 2009
Our Amazing Children
I guess old age, and time passing makes us remember the little things long forgotten. Especially when it comes to the "kids". So here goes!
Paul was more like me and Dawn like her Dad. Paul had my temperment, which caused both of us a lot of greif while he was growing up and Dawn navigated to her Dad, both in things to do and in the way they felt. Paul took his looks after the Harris side of the family, and strange as it may sound, Dawn has taken hers from the Smith side. Go figure!
I can honestly say, however, they both came up with the wonderful ability to make friends where ever they went. I don't believe either of them have met a stranger. I can't recall a move, or a trip we took when both of them were not perfectly at home and or acquainted by the time Jay and I had settled in. It was amazing. If there was ever a tendency to hold back because of the newness or stangeness of surroundings, it never seemed to phase either of them. Which I took as a definite advantage for the two of them.
I have spent time on some of the antics of Paul, now I think I would like to take a few minutes of your time talking about how "I remember Dawn". Though Dawn made friends easily, she was just as comfortable by herself. She could play for hours with no one around her. Being six years younger than Paul, she was alone at home for a long time before school days. We lived in a neighborhood where there were children her age, and that was back in the days of the "coffee clutch". I guess I should explain that one. The young housewives would get the kids off to school, get their basic housework done then gather at one of the other houses for a "coffee clutch". The smaller children could play in the back yard, and the babies were allowed to play on their blankets on the living room floor. By the time Dawn came into the family, I had become a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and didn't drink coffee anymore, and somehow no longer fit into the group. Which could have bearing on the differences of the way the kids played.
Paul was in School when Dawn was born. I would put her in the stroller, or buggy and walk with Paul to his school which was just a short walk from the house. Some days we would walk back to meet him when he was finished at school, but not always. Our house was in an old Orange Grove so the walk was very pleasant when the trees were in bloom. It wasn't long until the Orange Grove was sold off and made way for more houses and Shopping Malls. Seems a shame now, but then that is what progress does. By the time Dawn was ready for school Paul would walk with her. They didn't go to the same school for long however. The age difference was like Ron and I
he was moving on when I came in. That was pretty much the way it was with Paul and Dawn.
Although Dawn enjoyed playing by herself, she enjoyed school too. Being with the other children was fun, and she made friends easily, or so it seemed to me. Neither of the kids were leaders however. They had a followers nature about them, which caused me to keep close tabs on the people around them. Paul was less careful about that of the two of them. Being the "little sister" was difficult because Dawn always wanted to do what Paul was doing. That was how the "fanner 50" incident happened. The boys were playing "cowboys and indians" I believe when Dawn snatched one of Pauls guns. He chased her and when she was nearly caught, she threw the gun in the air and bolted for her safety. Paul seeing his nice new gun flipped into the air made a grab for it, missed and it hit him in the mouth chipping one of his front teeth. A trip to the dentist was in order. Nothing would be done about the missing part of Pauls tooth. Such was their relationship.
Dawn had the knack of looking out for the "under dog" as it were. Many a young person was looked after so they weren't the butt of thoughtless jokes because Dawn would step up and befriend them. Being "popular" was the in thing, but it never made Dawn less aware of those who were not included in her circle of friends. When school offered the opportunity to do drama, I think she was first in line to try out. I don't recall her ever being bashful or afraid to put herself forward in that way. A trait her Dad never had. I have no idea where that came from.
I guess like Keara being so fond of those scarey rides at the Fair, much as her Great Grandfather Charles Smith loved to do, Dawn naturally picked it up from someone back on one of the family lines. When we moved to Taft, Dawn tried out for a play at the Junior High and followed it with many plays while in High School. It was something she enjoyed doing. In fact there were times at the Church when she used what she had learned to good advantage as well. Would she have made a good actress? I believe she would have, but I am greatful she chose being a wife and mother instead. She has done an outstanding job there, which has much longer lasting rewards than acting could have brought.
While Dawn was at Taft High School she was able to expand her talents in a number of ways. In
her Sophmore year she was nominated for Sophmore Princess at the Winter Ball. That was her first formal. What a time I had making that dress. It was the best one I think I ever made her. I know it set a precedent, or so I found out much later. I digress here - the Girls Dean came to me and said she waited to see what dress Dawn would wear at the formal dance because she always came dressed in such good taste. We always knew it was Church Dress Standards that caught her eye, and that of a number of other people I gather. Dawn didn't win that year, which was not really all that bad. Being her first formal made up for the difference I believe. I modified that gown for another Formal dance, and it was just as eye catching. Then there was the summer formal when she wore a dress off the pattern for the gown Vivian Leigh wore in Gone With the Wind (movie). White dotted swiss over a yellow lining. I found I didn' t have enough dotted swiss to make the skirt as flowing as it called for, so I incerted a panel in the back that was high lighted with a bussel. The inset was covered with rows of gather lace. It was different, and made the back of the dress more outstanding than the front. Very Southern Belle looking. The next attempt was a very subdued pink with lace gown. The material was the thing.
It was called crystal, and it had a frosted glass look to it. The final creation was for the Senior Queen Winter Formal. Dawn was again nominated. I needed something that looked like it came out of Dr. Zivago. The under part of the dress was satin with an over skirt of sheer with a gold design that look quite Greek I would say. It had Elizabethen sleeves and a white rabbit fur collar. Talk about Winter. She was the Winter Queen for sure. We didn't know if she would win, but she would look the part.
Before the Ball, I was called by one of the committee and told she had won, and they were inviting me. I was PTA President at the time. I didn't tell Dawn that I was planning on being at the Dance. Her date came to get her, I quickly dressed and went over. I stayed out of the way
so she wouldn't know that I was there. What happened was a real thrill for me. The evening was started by announcing the Winter Queen and the Princess' from the other classes. Before they called Dawns name, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, leaving a path for Dawn to walk
through when her name WAS called. I think everyone in the school knew she was the Winter Queen but her. She still had her braces on her teeth which made smiling a bit troublesome. When she went back to have her braces removed a short while later the Dr. told her, had he known she was to be crowned, he could have removed them a few weeks earlier. Such is life.
The trill was still there.
Dawn was a song girl during her last three years at Taft High. It was a busy time for her. She was head Song Leader the final year, and many an hour was spent in practice at our house and on the lawn when the weather permitted it. Football games were the big thing. She went to Camp to participate in learning new skills. I went along one year as an Adult Leader. I had my hands full keeping up with the girls I was assinged to. I didn't know them, and they did not know me, but we made quick and fast friends. I will never forget the hundreds of times I had to climb the stairs to our rooms. My legs were not use to that, but the girls seemed to manage it with all the jumping around they did all day long. That year the Camp was held at San Diego State College. Beautiful campus and the hospitality was great for everyone.
As PTA President I was responsible for the Snack Bars at the Football Games. We made a lot of money for the school, and spent hundreds of hours getting things prepared for the Friday games. I served two years as President at Taft High and was nominated and chosen as the PTA Life Member from the school the last year I served. It was an honor I cherish because my Mother had been so honored when she was President at Huntington Park High School. Schools and PTA were so different back then. I am greatful for the experiences enjoyed during that time of my life.
When Dawn was a Senior I was in charge of the All Night Grad Party. We were so busy trying to make the evening as eventful as we could, so the Graduates wouldn't go out into the oilfields to drink and get into trouble following the Graduation Ceremonies. I was able to get the Rec. Center in Taft for the major part of the festivities. There was a refreshment bar, and small bowling alley in the basement and a great basketball court outside that we made into an outdoor resturant for the candle light dinner. The Gym served as the Ballroom and we were able to get the local theatre in town to show a sunrise movie. I believe most of those who were able to make that slept through it. After thought, I am greatful for that. The only movie they could provide for us was "Paint Your Wagon". I had never seen it before, and after viewing it that night, I wouldn't say it was a fitting choice for that group at that time. No one would think a thing of it now though.
Dawn was popular I guess you might say. She had loads of friends and seemed to enjoy her activities at the time. She did not date until she was 16, even though we allowed her to go to her first formal in December before she turned 16 in January. Had she not been nominated for Sophmore Princess, she would not have gone. She understood that, and was happy we were open to her attending a few weeks before she met the standards of the Church.
Just a short note about Dawn and her Dad. I think I would be remiss if I didn't remark about that for her children and grand children to know about that relationship. It didn't matter what Jay was doing, Dawn had to be right there along side doing her thing with him. It was not uncommon to hear Jay yell: "Charmaine come and get this kid, she won't let me have my tools".
It is no wonder Dawn can fix things every bit as well as her Dad. She had a great teacher. In fact I must confess it was Jay who taught her how to cook. They would spend hours in the kitchen baking or making candy. Even after she was married you could see her hand in hand with her Dad, while Greg and I walked along remarking how close the two of them were. Now I don't mean to convey the idea that they always did things in harmony. On the contrary. To watch them work you might have thought they didn't get along at all. Why I remember the time Dawn wanted to wallpaper the kitchen in their new home on Laurel Road in Atascadero. She picked out the paper but would not have anyone but her Dad help her. The heated discussions they had on how it went, what they should do, etc. kept Greg and I entertained to no end. We just sat in the Family Room looking at each other totally amuzed at what it took to get that job done, and so happy we didn't have to be included.
When Greg and Dawn were planning their Wedding, Jay was working in Las Vegas building the original Grand Hotel. I would spend one week-end in Paso Robles working with Shirley and Bill on what was to be done, then the next week I would go to Las Vegas and update Jay. I kept such close records on everything I was spending and what was done. At that time the Camper Shell was stored in the garage on Alvy Street in Anaheim. I used it as an office. I had all the receipts and other information on the desk so Jay could go over them to see what was spent and just how much it cost him for the Wedding. When he came home after it was all over, he asked what that pile of papers were. I explained I had left them there so he could go over them and see what he had spent. He picked them up and tossed them in the waste basket. He simple asked are they paid to which I said: "yes". He replied then that is all I need to know.
He never made an accounting of what the Wedding costed. It didn't matter to either of us. It was lovely, and the kids were happy. Nothing else really mattered.
Written this 15th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Paul was more like me and Dawn like her Dad. Paul had my temperment, which caused both of us a lot of greif while he was growing up and Dawn navigated to her Dad, both in things to do and in the way they felt. Paul took his looks after the Harris side of the family, and strange as it may sound, Dawn has taken hers from the Smith side. Go figure!
I can honestly say, however, they both came up with the wonderful ability to make friends where ever they went. I don't believe either of them have met a stranger. I can't recall a move, or a trip we took when both of them were not perfectly at home and or acquainted by the time Jay and I had settled in. It was amazing. If there was ever a tendency to hold back because of the newness or stangeness of surroundings, it never seemed to phase either of them. Which I took as a definite advantage for the two of them.
I have spent time on some of the antics of Paul, now I think I would like to take a few minutes of your time talking about how "I remember Dawn". Though Dawn made friends easily, she was just as comfortable by herself. She could play for hours with no one around her. Being six years younger than Paul, she was alone at home for a long time before school days. We lived in a neighborhood where there were children her age, and that was back in the days of the "coffee clutch". I guess I should explain that one. The young housewives would get the kids off to school, get their basic housework done then gather at one of the other houses for a "coffee clutch". The smaller children could play in the back yard, and the babies were allowed to play on their blankets on the living room floor. By the time Dawn came into the family, I had become a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and didn't drink coffee anymore, and somehow no longer fit into the group. Which could have bearing on the differences of the way the kids played.
Paul was in School when Dawn was born. I would put her in the stroller, or buggy and walk with Paul to his school which was just a short walk from the house. Some days we would walk back to meet him when he was finished at school, but not always. Our house was in an old Orange Grove so the walk was very pleasant when the trees were in bloom. It wasn't long until the Orange Grove was sold off and made way for more houses and Shopping Malls. Seems a shame now, but then that is what progress does. By the time Dawn was ready for school Paul would walk with her. They didn't go to the same school for long however. The age difference was like Ron and I
he was moving on when I came in. That was pretty much the way it was with Paul and Dawn.
Although Dawn enjoyed playing by herself, she enjoyed school too. Being with the other children was fun, and she made friends easily, or so it seemed to me. Neither of the kids were leaders however. They had a followers nature about them, which caused me to keep close tabs on the people around them. Paul was less careful about that of the two of them. Being the "little sister" was difficult because Dawn always wanted to do what Paul was doing. That was how the "fanner 50" incident happened. The boys were playing "cowboys and indians" I believe when Dawn snatched one of Pauls guns. He chased her and when she was nearly caught, she threw the gun in the air and bolted for her safety. Paul seeing his nice new gun flipped into the air made a grab for it, missed and it hit him in the mouth chipping one of his front teeth. A trip to the dentist was in order. Nothing would be done about the missing part of Pauls tooth. Such was their relationship.
Dawn had the knack of looking out for the "under dog" as it were. Many a young person was looked after so they weren't the butt of thoughtless jokes because Dawn would step up and befriend them. Being "popular" was the in thing, but it never made Dawn less aware of those who were not included in her circle of friends. When school offered the opportunity to do drama, I think she was first in line to try out. I don't recall her ever being bashful or afraid to put herself forward in that way. A trait her Dad never had. I have no idea where that came from.
I guess like Keara being so fond of those scarey rides at the Fair, much as her Great Grandfather Charles Smith loved to do, Dawn naturally picked it up from someone back on one of the family lines. When we moved to Taft, Dawn tried out for a play at the Junior High and followed it with many plays while in High School. It was something she enjoyed doing. In fact there were times at the Church when she used what she had learned to good advantage as well. Would she have made a good actress? I believe she would have, but I am greatful she chose being a wife and mother instead. She has done an outstanding job there, which has much longer lasting rewards than acting could have brought.
While Dawn was at Taft High School she was able to expand her talents in a number of ways. In
her Sophmore year she was nominated for Sophmore Princess at the Winter Ball. That was her first formal. What a time I had making that dress. It was the best one I think I ever made her. I know it set a precedent, or so I found out much later. I digress here - the Girls Dean came to me and said she waited to see what dress Dawn would wear at the formal dance because she always came dressed in such good taste. We always knew it was Church Dress Standards that caught her eye, and that of a number of other people I gather. Dawn didn't win that year, which was not really all that bad. Being her first formal made up for the difference I believe. I modified that gown for another Formal dance, and it was just as eye catching. Then there was the summer formal when she wore a dress off the pattern for the gown Vivian Leigh wore in Gone With the Wind (movie). White dotted swiss over a yellow lining. I found I didn' t have enough dotted swiss to make the skirt as flowing as it called for, so I incerted a panel in the back that was high lighted with a bussel. The inset was covered with rows of gather lace. It was different, and made the back of the dress more outstanding than the front. Very Southern Belle looking. The next attempt was a very subdued pink with lace gown. The material was the thing.
It was called crystal, and it had a frosted glass look to it. The final creation was for the Senior Queen Winter Formal. Dawn was again nominated. I needed something that looked like it came out of Dr. Zivago. The under part of the dress was satin with an over skirt of sheer with a gold design that look quite Greek I would say. It had Elizabethen sleeves and a white rabbit fur collar. Talk about Winter. She was the Winter Queen for sure. We didn't know if she would win, but she would look the part.
Before the Ball, I was called by one of the committee and told she had won, and they were inviting me. I was PTA President at the time. I didn't tell Dawn that I was planning on being at the Dance. Her date came to get her, I quickly dressed and went over. I stayed out of the way
so she wouldn't know that I was there. What happened was a real thrill for me. The evening was started by announcing the Winter Queen and the Princess' from the other classes. Before they called Dawns name, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, leaving a path for Dawn to walk
through when her name WAS called. I think everyone in the school knew she was the Winter Queen but her. She still had her braces on her teeth which made smiling a bit troublesome. When she went back to have her braces removed a short while later the Dr. told her, had he known she was to be crowned, he could have removed them a few weeks earlier. Such is life.
The trill was still there.
Dawn was a song girl during her last three years at Taft High. It was a busy time for her. She was head Song Leader the final year, and many an hour was spent in practice at our house and on the lawn when the weather permitted it. Football games were the big thing. She went to Camp to participate in learning new skills. I went along one year as an Adult Leader. I had my hands full keeping up with the girls I was assinged to. I didn't know them, and they did not know me, but we made quick and fast friends. I will never forget the hundreds of times I had to climb the stairs to our rooms. My legs were not use to that, but the girls seemed to manage it with all the jumping around they did all day long. That year the Camp was held at San Diego State College. Beautiful campus and the hospitality was great for everyone.
As PTA President I was responsible for the Snack Bars at the Football Games. We made a lot of money for the school, and spent hundreds of hours getting things prepared for the Friday games. I served two years as President at Taft High and was nominated and chosen as the PTA Life Member from the school the last year I served. It was an honor I cherish because my Mother had been so honored when she was President at Huntington Park High School. Schools and PTA were so different back then. I am greatful for the experiences enjoyed during that time of my life.
When Dawn was a Senior I was in charge of the All Night Grad Party. We were so busy trying to make the evening as eventful as we could, so the Graduates wouldn't go out into the oilfields to drink and get into trouble following the Graduation Ceremonies. I was able to get the Rec. Center in Taft for the major part of the festivities. There was a refreshment bar, and small bowling alley in the basement and a great basketball court outside that we made into an outdoor resturant for the candle light dinner. The Gym served as the Ballroom and we were able to get the local theatre in town to show a sunrise movie. I believe most of those who were able to make that slept through it. After thought, I am greatful for that. The only movie they could provide for us was "Paint Your Wagon". I had never seen it before, and after viewing it that night, I wouldn't say it was a fitting choice for that group at that time. No one would think a thing of it now though.
Dawn was popular I guess you might say. She had loads of friends and seemed to enjoy her activities at the time. She did not date until she was 16, even though we allowed her to go to her first formal in December before she turned 16 in January. Had she not been nominated for Sophmore Princess, she would not have gone. She understood that, and was happy we were open to her attending a few weeks before she met the standards of the Church.
Just a short note about Dawn and her Dad. I think I would be remiss if I didn't remark about that for her children and grand children to know about that relationship. It didn't matter what Jay was doing, Dawn had to be right there along side doing her thing with him. It was not uncommon to hear Jay yell: "Charmaine come and get this kid, she won't let me have my tools".
It is no wonder Dawn can fix things every bit as well as her Dad. She had a great teacher. In fact I must confess it was Jay who taught her how to cook. They would spend hours in the kitchen baking or making candy. Even after she was married you could see her hand in hand with her Dad, while Greg and I walked along remarking how close the two of them were. Now I don't mean to convey the idea that they always did things in harmony. On the contrary. To watch them work you might have thought they didn't get along at all. Why I remember the time Dawn wanted to wallpaper the kitchen in their new home on Laurel Road in Atascadero. She picked out the paper but would not have anyone but her Dad help her. The heated discussions they had on how it went, what they should do, etc. kept Greg and I entertained to no end. We just sat in the Family Room looking at each other totally amuzed at what it took to get that job done, and so happy we didn't have to be included.
When Greg and Dawn were planning their Wedding, Jay was working in Las Vegas building the original Grand Hotel. I would spend one week-end in Paso Robles working with Shirley and Bill on what was to be done, then the next week I would go to Las Vegas and update Jay. I kept such close records on everything I was spending and what was done. At that time the Camper Shell was stored in the garage on Alvy Street in Anaheim. I used it as an office. I had all the receipts and other information on the desk so Jay could go over them to see what was spent and just how much it cost him for the Wedding. When he came home after it was all over, he asked what that pile of papers were. I explained I had left them there so he could go over them and see what he had spent. He picked them up and tossed them in the waste basket. He simple asked are they paid to which I said: "yes". He replied then that is all I need to know.
He never made an accounting of what the Wedding costed. It didn't matter to either of us. It was lovely, and the kids were happy. Nothing else really mattered.
Written this 15th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Church Picnic at Irvine/Orange County Park
When we moved into the house at 2914 Belgrave Avenue in Huntington Park, CA we were within walking distance of the small Evangelical Church off Miles Avenue. The folks always insisted we attend Church each Sunday, so we started attending there. There was Sunday School and Chapel Services on Sunday and I always went to Daily Vacation Bible School during the Summer. One big event was the Church Picnic.
Now Huntington Park was not near Orange County, and back in those "good ole days" there was not a Freeway to anywhere. That ment we had to drive the regular roads, which ment time going and coming was as much a part of the fun as the picnic was. You must remember this was
back in the "dark ages" of doing things the "old fashion way". There were no permission slips, no routine laws about hauling a group of children in any special way or worries about the food we ate. According to todays standards, we should have all died coming, going, or eating our sack lunches. Well there were some of the kids who were lucky enough to have cash to buy something at the food stand in the Park. We weren't part of that limited number however. Mom would pack us a lunch and give us a nickle to buy something to drink. Yes, a nickle was able to do such things back in those days.
Everyone would gather at the Church early and get ready to climb aboard the flat bed truck that had high slatted sides. It was a good idea to have a warm jacket, and even a shawl or blanket was a bit helpful on those "airy" rides. Well we sang, and waved at every car that passed us, you have to realize the traffic was not all that heavy back in those days. When we got near the Park there was general excitement. The Park was big, and we were turned loose to have a great day. If you had the extra money you could rent a bike and ride all over the Park. Or if you were more adventureous, you could rent a cannoe and row yourself around the lake. There were trees to climb and paths to hike. Well it was a paradise. So much to do and so much to see. The boys would try to see that I had someone to pal with. They were so much older they didn't want to hang around with me all day. I didn't mind, because the Park was a magical place to me. I loved every minute we were there, and hated to hear the call to come load up and leave for home.
I don't remember how many of those picnics we attended, but just thinking about it even today brings back a flood of rich memories of having such a great time, and feeling so free and safe. I don't know there is a place today such wonderful days could be spent with the freedom we enjoyed back then. So sad to realize that children have to be watched for their own safety today.
The people that organized those fabulous outings were careful with their charges for the day, and planned a great many things to do for all the kids. We had games to play and group hikes, well it was just wonderful. As I have stated before, when I was small, everyone was use to making their own fun. We didn't think about money, or "things". We made up our games and played "make believe" with what ever we could scroung up. Old dresses from Mom, maybe a pair of old high heeled shoes a hat or two and some old hang bags - that we called purses back
then. We made a house with sheets or blankets and went to the store and begged for their old apple or orange crates to make furniture for our make believe houses. At least one of us would have a "tea set" for our dishes for our imaginary meals. I don't ever recall making "mud pies" but we sure soaked up a large number of graham crackers. I am not sure now what we pretended they were, but they were so GOOD. Wonderful the mind of a child when it doesn't have toys, or play things. I think I may have had one sand bucket and small shovel when we would go to the beach, which wasn't very often. I do know when we did go, Mom always had a packed lunch for us. Looking back on it, I don't think we ever went to a Hambruger Stand even when we were at the beach, where there was a board walk with all kinds of things. You know we never missed out on having a good time no matter where we were or who we were with.
Picnics in a large Park, a day at the beach, walking across the street to go to the HP pool, well there just wasn't anything better. There were tennis courts across the street and all of us played tennis. I don't say we were good at it, but it passed the time of day. In fact I can remember hours spent hitting a tennis ball up against the wall of the Gym or up against the hand ball court wall. You know I wouldn't trade my childhood for anything they have today. I never remember asking for anything for Christmas. We were always surprised at what Santa brought to our house. None of us ever got a bike, or scooter. I had one doll and a buggy and what a great time I had with them. The boys had small cars made out of led and painted bright colors. They played marbles and the great fun was trading for different ones. Oh, and I had "jacks" I got pretty good picking them up. We played "hop scotch" by drawing the forms on the sidewalk with chalk. We jumped rope and played "kick the can". Oh, we did have roller skates. Ball bearing roller skates were the best kind, but you sure had to learn how to use them. Many a scraped knee was had before I could stay up on the ones I got.
In Pennsylvania I had a pair of "bathing shoes". You needed them to wade in the creek bed or play in the water in the street. When we would have a summer shower, we would put on our bathing suit and bathing shoes and play in the rain. No one had pools in those days, in fact I don't think I ever saw a pool until we moved to Belgrave Avenue and learned of the one at the High School that was just across the street from us.
No I wouldn't trade my childhood for any other time. It wasn't charged with a great deal of excitement, but we sure had fun. The street was always filled with kids after supper was over and the dishes done. Few cars came up or down the streets during that time. Everyone was home and in the house. The streets were left to the young. All ages would gather to play games and share their skates or homemade scooters. Back then a skate board was made out of a 2x4
and one skate that had broke and couldn't be used except the wheels. They were crude and rough, but man the boys could make them go. Life was simple then, but what a time we had.
No I wouldn't change my childhood. I am greatful for every minute of it. I was a child, and I was allowed to dress like a child and act like a child and have fun like children should be able to do.
Growing up was something you did by nature. I never thought about that until just now. I was not "advetised" into thinking I needed to be older than I was. What a blessing that was, and I didn't realize it, but am so greatful for it now. The telling doesn't do justice to the youth I had. It was not complicated, or hurried. In fact there was not one kid then who even suspected they were poor. Come to think of it, we were so rich is life, we had no idea what we really had.
Written this 15th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Now Huntington Park was not near Orange County, and back in those "good ole days" there was not a Freeway to anywhere. That ment we had to drive the regular roads, which ment time going and coming was as much a part of the fun as the picnic was. You must remember this was
back in the "dark ages" of doing things the "old fashion way". There were no permission slips, no routine laws about hauling a group of children in any special way or worries about the food we ate. According to todays standards, we should have all died coming, going, or eating our sack lunches. Well there were some of the kids who were lucky enough to have cash to buy something at the food stand in the Park. We weren't part of that limited number however. Mom would pack us a lunch and give us a nickle to buy something to drink. Yes, a nickle was able to do such things back in those days.
Everyone would gather at the Church early and get ready to climb aboard the flat bed truck that had high slatted sides. It was a good idea to have a warm jacket, and even a shawl or blanket was a bit helpful on those "airy" rides. Well we sang, and waved at every car that passed us, you have to realize the traffic was not all that heavy back in those days. When we got near the Park there was general excitement. The Park was big, and we were turned loose to have a great day. If you had the extra money you could rent a bike and ride all over the Park. Or if you were more adventureous, you could rent a cannoe and row yourself around the lake. There were trees to climb and paths to hike. Well it was a paradise. So much to do and so much to see. The boys would try to see that I had someone to pal with. They were so much older they didn't want to hang around with me all day. I didn't mind, because the Park was a magical place to me. I loved every minute we were there, and hated to hear the call to come load up and leave for home.
I don't remember how many of those picnics we attended, but just thinking about it even today brings back a flood of rich memories of having such a great time, and feeling so free and safe. I don't know there is a place today such wonderful days could be spent with the freedom we enjoyed back then. So sad to realize that children have to be watched for their own safety today.
The people that organized those fabulous outings were careful with their charges for the day, and planned a great many things to do for all the kids. We had games to play and group hikes, well it was just wonderful. As I have stated before, when I was small, everyone was use to making their own fun. We didn't think about money, or "things". We made up our games and played "make believe" with what ever we could scroung up. Old dresses from Mom, maybe a pair of old high heeled shoes a hat or two and some old hang bags - that we called purses back
then. We made a house with sheets or blankets and went to the store and begged for their old apple or orange crates to make furniture for our make believe houses. At least one of us would have a "tea set" for our dishes for our imaginary meals. I don't ever recall making "mud pies" but we sure soaked up a large number of graham crackers. I am not sure now what we pretended they were, but they were so GOOD. Wonderful the mind of a child when it doesn't have toys, or play things. I think I may have had one sand bucket and small shovel when we would go to the beach, which wasn't very often. I do know when we did go, Mom always had a packed lunch for us. Looking back on it, I don't think we ever went to a Hambruger Stand even when we were at the beach, where there was a board walk with all kinds of things. You know we never missed out on having a good time no matter where we were or who we were with.
Picnics in a large Park, a day at the beach, walking across the street to go to the HP pool, well there just wasn't anything better. There were tennis courts across the street and all of us played tennis. I don't say we were good at it, but it passed the time of day. In fact I can remember hours spent hitting a tennis ball up against the wall of the Gym or up against the hand ball court wall. You know I wouldn't trade my childhood for anything they have today. I never remember asking for anything for Christmas. We were always surprised at what Santa brought to our house. None of us ever got a bike, or scooter. I had one doll and a buggy and what a great time I had with them. The boys had small cars made out of led and painted bright colors. They played marbles and the great fun was trading for different ones. Oh, and I had "jacks" I got pretty good picking them up. We played "hop scotch" by drawing the forms on the sidewalk with chalk. We jumped rope and played "kick the can". Oh, we did have roller skates. Ball bearing roller skates were the best kind, but you sure had to learn how to use them. Many a scraped knee was had before I could stay up on the ones I got.
In Pennsylvania I had a pair of "bathing shoes". You needed them to wade in the creek bed or play in the water in the street. When we would have a summer shower, we would put on our bathing suit and bathing shoes and play in the rain. No one had pools in those days, in fact I don't think I ever saw a pool until we moved to Belgrave Avenue and learned of the one at the High School that was just across the street from us.
No I wouldn't trade my childhood for any other time. It wasn't charged with a great deal of excitement, but we sure had fun. The street was always filled with kids after supper was over and the dishes done. Few cars came up or down the streets during that time. Everyone was home and in the house. The streets were left to the young. All ages would gather to play games and share their skates or homemade scooters. Back then a skate board was made out of a 2x4
and one skate that had broke and couldn't be used except the wheels. They were crude and rough, but man the boys could make them go. Life was simple then, but what a time we had.
No I wouldn't change my childhood. I am greatful for every minute of it. I was a child, and I was allowed to dress like a child and act like a child and have fun like children should be able to do.
Growing up was something you did by nature. I never thought about that until just now. I was not "advetised" into thinking I needed to be older than I was. What a blessing that was, and I didn't realize it, but am so greatful for it now. The telling doesn't do justice to the youth I had. It was not complicated, or hurried. In fact there was not one kid then who even suspected they were poor. Come to think of it, we were so rich is life, we had no idea what we really had.
Written this 15th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Paul and the Hang Glider
Paul had returned from Vietnam, was working in Bakersfield as a Glasier was married to Jan and thought "hang gliding" was a hoot. A friend had a glider and of course Paul had to give it a try. It couldn't be more fun that jumping out of airplanes or launching yourself off the side of a helicopter over the jungels of Asia. Or so he thought.
We all went out where there was a very high hill. We, the spectators stayed on the flat land while the daring duo went up to the top of the hill assembled the hang glider and took a running jump out into space. It was magic - the wind caught the wings, a flight on the thermals was quiet and exciting. The ride lasted quite a few minutes and then decent to the area where we earth bound creatures were awaiting the "air man". Why it was a "piece of cake". The glider was quickly gathered into the awaiting truck and away they drove to the top of that hill again for another "great experience". It wasn't until a few precious moments later that we learned just what kind of an experience it would turn out to be, for all of us.
Nothing seemed different - at least to any of us at the top or the bottom of the hill. Paul took his running start and left the top of the hill. For the first few seconds he was off like a bird and then the glider took a sudden upward movement, which was followed with a sudden drop like a rock.
The glider and "air man" headed straight for terra ferma. Once that downward turn started there was no notice of a change in the direction it was going. Just as suddenly as the glider had been airborne, it was now a heap of junk, with a crumpled human being under it.
Jay, Jan and the rest of the party started running up the hill to where the glider had crashed. I was not in any hurry to see the damage, or Paul. After all the terror I had gone through looking at the pictures of him repelling in the jungles of Vietnam, knowing the danger that was there, I had no desire to quickly learn the fate of my son from this short excursion into "fun". Paul had
survivied the crash, but was pretty badly banged up. Jay put him in the car and rushed him into Taft to the emergency room at the small hospital there. I think it was the first time Paul had known "real pain". He was having a great deal of it over the major part of his body. It was apparent he had broken his wrist and we weren't all that sure about his shoulder. X-rays were taken and the judgement was made. Surgery could have been used to repair the damage to the wrist, the Dr. however believed setting it would be less invasive. So a cast was applied and a long recovery time entered into.
Thus ended Paul with the Hang Glider. It was repairable and would not show that much damage, but the "air man" didn't come out so lucky. Is there a moral to this story? The only one I can think of is: "not everything that looks like so much fun really is".
Written this 14th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
We all went out where there was a very high hill. We, the spectators stayed on the flat land while the daring duo went up to the top of the hill assembled the hang glider and took a running jump out into space. It was magic - the wind caught the wings, a flight on the thermals was quiet and exciting. The ride lasted quite a few minutes and then decent to the area where we earth bound creatures were awaiting the "air man". Why it was a "piece of cake". The glider was quickly gathered into the awaiting truck and away they drove to the top of that hill again for another "great experience". It wasn't until a few precious moments later that we learned just what kind of an experience it would turn out to be, for all of us.
Nothing seemed different - at least to any of us at the top or the bottom of the hill. Paul took his running start and left the top of the hill. For the first few seconds he was off like a bird and then the glider took a sudden upward movement, which was followed with a sudden drop like a rock.
The glider and "air man" headed straight for terra ferma. Once that downward turn started there was no notice of a change in the direction it was going. Just as suddenly as the glider had been airborne, it was now a heap of junk, with a crumpled human being under it.
Jay, Jan and the rest of the party started running up the hill to where the glider had crashed. I was not in any hurry to see the damage, or Paul. After all the terror I had gone through looking at the pictures of him repelling in the jungles of Vietnam, knowing the danger that was there, I had no desire to quickly learn the fate of my son from this short excursion into "fun". Paul had
survivied the crash, but was pretty badly banged up. Jay put him in the car and rushed him into Taft to the emergency room at the small hospital there. I think it was the first time Paul had known "real pain". He was having a great deal of it over the major part of his body. It was apparent he had broken his wrist and we weren't all that sure about his shoulder. X-rays were taken and the judgement was made. Surgery could have been used to repair the damage to the wrist, the Dr. however believed setting it would be less invasive. So a cast was applied and a long recovery time entered into.
Thus ended Paul with the Hang Glider. It was repairable and would not show that much damage, but the "air man" didn't come out so lucky. Is there a moral to this story? The only one I can think of is: "not everything that looks like so much fun really is".
Written this 14th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
We Swam with Buster Crabb and Other Ramblings
You ask: "who is he?" Well let me tell you!
Buster Crabb was quite a swimmer, and the original Buck Rogers of film serial fame. Young, good looking, and friendly. We had gone to a Douglas Aircraft Picnic on a Saturday Afternoon and there he was in the pool. I wish I could remember the name of the Park, I doubt it still is
around today. That would have been back in about 1937 I'd say. There was a fountain in the middle of the pool and a small deck around it. Buster was setting there talking to the kids. As
my memory recalls he had been an olympic swimmer. The three of the "Smith" kids got into
the pool quickly and made their way to where he was - hey - a celebrity then was just as
exciting as one is today.
We lived on that bit of excitement for quite awhile as I recall. Those Family Picnics were such
a great time for the families of Douglas. Matched only by the Christmas Parties they use to
have. A shame those things don't exist any more. Everyone got to know everyone else and it
was good for the men as well as for their wives and kids. Dad left home to go to work every
day and Mom stayed home to take care of the house and family. Those choice times of being
acquainted with the men who shared the bigger part of Dads life were pretty important.
Thinking about those Christmas Parties - They were always held in one of the big hangers at
Douglas in Long Beach. I can't remember Santa being there, but I'm certain he was some
where around in the crowd. There were toys and stockings filled with an orange, apple
and hard candy. You know I don't think people use hard candy today like they did back then. There was big striped ribbons and small ones too. Pieces with flowers or a figure of some
kind in the middle. Colors were mostly red, white and green.
Of course, then was when Dad would take us to McFarlands for English Toffee. Oh, that was
great eating. There may be other brands, but nothing could match McFarlands, that is for
sure. Christmas was great because Ralph always set his Electric Train up and we would have
it running under the Christmas Tree every year. Tangerines, Hard Candy, Nuts and of
course English Toffee. Never could have been a greater Holiday.
You know when I was a kid there were three times each year that were super special. One
was Easter another Thanksgiving the last Christmas. Back then life revolved around the
home and family. The depression kept things pretty simple. Come to think of it, we did
not even have a radio. I hadn't realized entertainment as we know it today wasn't even a
dream back then. Our time was spent "making up" things to do. Our imaginations were
busy all the time. I don't believe I ever heard the word "bored". We didn't have time to
be bored, we were too busy having fun with "nothing". Go figure that one out.
Vacations - there wasn't money for travel. Camping was pretty much the limit, and then
there wasn't much of that either. Any camping we did was pretty primitive compared to
what is done today. No sleeping bags. Beds were made up with quilts as pads and as covers.
Tents were made of heavy canvas that had been water proofed with some oily substance
that smelled. No zippers, just snaps or ties for closures. I don't recall any ice chests either.
Well when you were born back in the "dark ages" what do you expect?
Easter was special because it always ment "new clothes" and shoes. How exciting. We were
all waiting for the Easter Bunny to come and there would be more candy and of course a very
special dinner. The boys and I would color Easter Eggs for the baskets. They were always
left on the Dining Room Table where the Easter Bunny could find them and add them to our
baskets. You know being a kid, even back then when there wasn't a lot of money (not that
we knew that at the time) but Mom and Dad made every Holiday special one way or the
other. Now as I look back on it, I wonder how they managed it. Probably did without so we
kids could enjoy everything. Sounds like parents!
Written this 13th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Buster Crabb was quite a swimmer, and the original Buck Rogers of film serial fame. Young, good looking, and friendly. We had gone to a Douglas Aircraft Picnic on a Saturday Afternoon and there he was in the pool. I wish I could remember the name of the Park, I doubt it still is
around today. That would have been back in about 1937 I'd say. There was a fountain in the middle of the pool and a small deck around it. Buster was setting there talking to the kids. As
my memory recalls he had been an olympic swimmer. The three of the "Smith" kids got into
the pool quickly and made their way to where he was - hey - a celebrity then was just as
exciting as one is today.
We lived on that bit of excitement for quite awhile as I recall. Those Family Picnics were such
a great time for the families of Douglas. Matched only by the Christmas Parties they use to
have. A shame those things don't exist any more. Everyone got to know everyone else and it
was good for the men as well as for their wives and kids. Dad left home to go to work every
day and Mom stayed home to take care of the house and family. Those choice times of being
acquainted with the men who shared the bigger part of Dads life were pretty important.
Thinking about those Christmas Parties - They were always held in one of the big hangers at
Douglas in Long Beach. I can't remember Santa being there, but I'm certain he was some
where around in the crowd. There were toys and stockings filled with an orange, apple
and hard candy. You know I don't think people use hard candy today like they did back then. There was big striped ribbons and small ones too. Pieces with flowers or a figure of some
kind in the middle. Colors were mostly red, white and green.
Of course, then was when Dad would take us to McFarlands for English Toffee. Oh, that was
great eating. There may be other brands, but nothing could match McFarlands, that is for
sure. Christmas was great because Ralph always set his Electric Train up and we would have
it running under the Christmas Tree every year. Tangerines, Hard Candy, Nuts and of
course English Toffee. Never could have been a greater Holiday.
You know when I was a kid there were three times each year that were super special. One
was Easter another Thanksgiving the last Christmas. Back then life revolved around the
home and family. The depression kept things pretty simple. Come to think of it, we did
not even have a radio. I hadn't realized entertainment as we know it today wasn't even a
dream back then. Our time was spent "making up" things to do. Our imaginations were
busy all the time. I don't believe I ever heard the word "bored". We didn't have time to
be bored, we were too busy having fun with "nothing". Go figure that one out.
Vacations - there wasn't money for travel. Camping was pretty much the limit, and then
there wasn't much of that either. Any camping we did was pretty primitive compared to
what is done today. No sleeping bags. Beds were made up with quilts as pads and as covers.
Tents were made of heavy canvas that had been water proofed with some oily substance
that smelled. No zippers, just snaps or ties for closures. I don't recall any ice chests either.
Well when you were born back in the "dark ages" what do you expect?
Easter was special because it always ment "new clothes" and shoes. How exciting. We were
all waiting for the Easter Bunny to come and there would be more candy and of course a very
special dinner. The boys and I would color Easter Eggs for the baskets. They were always
left on the Dining Room Table where the Easter Bunny could find them and add them to our
baskets. You know being a kid, even back then when there wasn't a lot of money (not that
we knew that at the time) but Mom and Dad made every Holiday special one way or the
other. Now as I look back on it, I wonder how they managed it. Probably did without so we
kids could enjoy everything. Sounds like parents!
Written this 13th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Captain John and Howard Hughes
I'm sure I mentioned before that Dad (J.C. Smith) went to work at Douglas Aircraft when we moved to California in 1935. The Country was still working it's way out of the Depression and Dad hoped for better employement in the West. We had to make a move for Moms health as you recall, and it seemed like better prospects lay ahead all the way around.
Once Dad was hired, he took his tools and began to show just what kind of a worker he was. The Aircraft Industry was still pretty young then, and the future seemed bright with all the new planes that were needed for so many new jobs. The Airlines were not established then, neither was the Air Freight Industry. Everything was ahead, and with young men coming from their college classes eager to design and build new and better "flying machines", well it was down right encouraging. So many men with big ideas, and little ability to put their paper models into workable fact, it took guys like Dad to build the tools, equipment and models to give them flight.
Dad quickly earned the respect of those around him. He had a great mind, and would take an idea and work it out in his head then go to the work bench, and come up with something that would work. Not that he could do it right at first, but when he got a hold on an idea, he wouldn't let go until he had solved all the problems he would come up against. It didn't take long for those who were more educated to find out that "Captain John" (a nick name he picked up from being
John Smith), could help. He worked with every kind of airplane that came along. He worked on the line, as Leadman, Class A Machinist and finally a Model Maker. In fact he went back East to the large Wind Tunnel to test the Models he had help build. He was working on the Moon Rocket when he was killed. I guess you could say he saw the developement of man in flight from the early stages brought about by World War II to the first attempts at Space Travel. I guess the height of the respect held for Dad was shown at his funeral by those who had worked with him.
It was sometime during the mass building and developement that was going on during World War II that Howard Hughes was working on what was to become the greatest "fighter" plane used for the War. It wasn't a product of Douglas Aircraft, it was being built over at Locheed. No
matter how hard the men over there tried, they could not keep the propeller from breaking under the stress on the plane. Every possible change was tried, nothing worked, and things were pretty bleek. During one of the meetings to go over the designs again Captain John was mentioned. Howard Hughes asked if he was in the plant. Of course he wasn't. Howard asked for him to be brought, or at least contacted so that he could talk to him.
Sometime later Dad was asked if he could meet with Howard Hughes - the newest genius in the development of fast persuit planes, and other things. A meeting was set up and one evening after work Captain John met with Howard Huges and looked over the plane, he had been hearing so much about. They went over the blue prints, then the Model and finally the Prop that was giving them so much trouble. Dad agreed to take a better look on his own time and get back to them in a few days. Once Dad had a hold of the idea, he worked on his own time at his work bench and with a great deal of effort came up with the solution to the problem. I am not at all versed in the final outcome except to say, Dad told me it was the "pitch" of the prop that was
the problem. He made a "jig" and built a new prop with the changes he felt would solve all the stress problems they were having. Without a prop that would work, the plane, not matter how
good, would never be of use.
When the prop Dad made was put on the model then tested - the plane flew and the prop was sturdy and filled every expectation. Of course Howard Hughes was delighted and express that
to Dad. He further told him there would be a reward for his help and acknowledgement for his part in bringing the plane forward for use by the Army Air Corp. The only problem was Howard Hughes had an ego that would not allow anyone to share the glory. I don't think Dad ever heard a word from him after that. The only comment I ever heard Dad make on the subject was
something to the effect: "education from books never really made a man, and climbing on someone elses shoulders to achieve things wasn't any better."
Howard Hughes might have made millions, and have claimed greatness for many things but I am one person to question just how much of what he is credited with was really HIS original and final products; or could it be possible they were someone elses, who was asked for support, help or talent to solve something Howard Hughes didn't have a clue about! They have given him a great deal of credit, written books and made movies about him, but it has not excaped me he ended up as a recluse living in a self imposed exile alone without friends or family.
Written this 13th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Once Dad was hired, he took his tools and began to show just what kind of a worker he was. The Aircraft Industry was still pretty young then, and the future seemed bright with all the new planes that were needed for so many new jobs. The Airlines were not established then, neither was the Air Freight Industry. Everything was ahead, and with young men coming from their college classes eager to design and build new and better "flying machines", well it was down right encouraging. So many men with big ideas, and little ability to put their paper models into workable fact, it took guys like Dad to build the tools, equipment and models to give them flight.
Dad quickly earned the respect of those around him. He had a great mind, and would take an idea and work it out in his head then go to the work bench, and come up with something that would work. Not that he could do it right at first, but when he got a hold on an idea, he wouldn't let go until he had solved all the problems he would come up against. It didn't take long for those who were more educated to find out that "Captain John" (a nick name he picked up from being
John Smith), could help. He worked with every kind of airplane that came along. He worked on the line, as Leadman, Class A Machinist and finally a Model Maker. In fact he went back East to the large Wind Tunnel to test the Models he had help build. He was working on the Moon Rocket when he was killed. I guess you could say he saw the developement of man in flight from the early stages brought about by World War II to the first attempts at Space Travel. I guess the height of the respect held for Dad was shown at his funeral by those who had worked with him.
It was sometime during the mass building and developement that was going on during World War II that Howard Hughes was working on what was to become the greatest "fighter" plane used for the War. It wasn't a product of Douglas Aircraft, it was being built over at Locheed. No
matter how hard the men over there tried, they could not keep the propeller from breaking under the stress on the plane. Every possible change was tried, nothing worked, and things were pretty bleek. During one of the meetings to go over the designs again Captain John was mentioned. Howard Hughes asked if he was in the plant. Of course he wasn't. Howard asked for him to be brought, or at least contacted so that he could talk to him.
Sometime later Dad was asked if he could meet with Howard Hughes - the newest genius in the development of fast persuit planes, and other things. A meeting was set up and one evening after work Captain John met with Howard Huges and looked over the plane, he had been hearing so much about. They went over the blue prints, then the Model and finally the Prop that was giving them so much trouble. Dad agreed to take a better look on his own time and get back to them in a few days. Once Dad had a hold of the idea, he worked on his own time at his work bench and with a great deal of effort came up with the solution to the problem. I am not at all versed in the final outcome except to say, Dad told me it was the "pitch" of the prop that was
the problem. He made a "jig" and built a new prop with the changes he felt would solve all the stress problems they were having. Without a prop that would work, the plane, not matter how
good, would never be of use.
When the prop Dad made was put on the model then tested - the plane flew and the prop was sturdy and filled every expectation. Of course Howard Hughes was delighted and express that
to Dad. He further told him there would be a reward for his help and acknowledgement for his part in bringing the plane forward for use by the Army Air Corp. The only problem was Howard Hughes had an ego that would not allow anyone to share the glory. I don't think Dad ever heard a word from him after that. The only comment I ever heard Dad make on the subject was
something to the effect: "education from books never really made a man, and climbing on someone elses shoulders to achieve things wasn't any better."
Howard Hughes might have made millions, and have claimed greatness for many things but I am one person to question just how much of what he is credited with was really HIS original and final products; or could it be possible they were someone elses, who was asked for support, help or talent to solve something Howard Hughes didn't have a clue about! They have given him a great deal of credit, written books and made movies about him, but it has not excaped me he ended up as a recluse living in a self imposed exile alone without friends or family.
Written this 13th day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Day Grand Ma Backed Out Her Driveway
You may remember Grandma didn't learn to drive until she was over 50 years young. The driveway at 2914 Belgrave Avenue was two ribbons of concrete almost the length of the lot. A real challenge to navigate. There was only a one car garage which posed it's own hazard for the large Ford Grandma drove.
One afternoon my phone rang and Mother was very upset. She needed me right away. I was not able to make out what the problem was, but knew I needed to get to her post haste. We were living in Pico Rivera at the time, which was quite a drive to Huntington Park. I got there as quickly as I could and was shocked to see the Ford across the street, on the sidewalk and stuck
in the chain link fence of the High School Parking Lot. Mother was still shaking, the Police were there taking information on what had happened.
It appeared Mom had been backing out of her drive way, fortunately no cars or pedestrians were in the area at the time. She must have stepped on the gas instead of the brake and zoomed across the street, jumped the curb, went between two very large trees and was stopped by the 8 foot fence of the School. I am sure the sudden stop was enough to jolt her pretty sharply.
She had no idea what had caused her to shoot across the street at such a speed, but when the car was at a stop it was apparent a miracle had taken place. The space between the trees was just enough for the car to pass between without making contact of any kind. The curb was unusually a high one. I have no idea what it must have felt like to have hit it and then jumped the car into the air propelling it between those trees.
When the car was moved it had left an indelible mark on the curb and sidewalk. The
fence was pushed back in a large area, but no posts had been envolved. If it had been planned it could not have been more perfectly placed. The car had no physical damage. I don't recall if the back suspension had been effected in any way. Mom drove that same car until she gave up driving at age 82. There were a great many scraps on it from the garage doors however.
Though it wasn't funny at the time, we have had many a laugh over it since. What a sight that must have been. A little old gray haired lady flying out of that long driveway at break neck speed, jumping that curb, clearing those two trees and coming to an abrupt stop by an 8 foot fence. We called her Barney Oldfield for awhile. The name may not mean much to the younger generation but it called up the image of one of the first fast drivers of automobiles. When it was mentioned it brought to mind "recklessness". You could certainly classify this as such an event.
Written this 11 day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
One afternoon my phone rang and Mother was very upset. She needed me right away. I was not able to make out what the problem was, but knew I needed to get to her post haste. We were living in Pico Rivera at the time, which was quite a drive to Huntington Park. I got there as quickly as I could and was shocked to see the Ford across the street, on the sidewalk and stuck
in the chain link fence of the High School Parking Lot. Mother was still shaking, the Police were there taking information on what had happened.
It appeared Mom had been backing out of her drive way, fortunately no cars or pedestrians were in the area at the time. She must have stepped on the gas instead of the brake and zoomed across the street, jumped the curb, went between two very large trees and was stopped by the 8 foot fence of the School. I am sure the sudden stop was enough to jolt her pretty sharply.
She had no idea what had caused her to shoot across the street at such a speed, but when the car was at a stop it was apparent a miracle had taken place. The space between the trees was just enough for the car to pass between without making contact of any kind. The curb was unusually a high one. I have no idea what it must have felt like to have hit it and then jumped the car into the air propelling it between those trees.
When the car was moved it had left an indelible mark on the curb and sidewalk. The
fence was pushed back in a large area, but no posts had been envolved. If it had been planned it could not have been more perfectly placed. The car had no physical damage. I don't recall if the back suspension had been effected in any way. Mom drove that same car until she gave up driving at age 82. There were a great many scraps on it from the garage doors however.
Though it wasn't funny at the time, we have had many a laugh over it since. What a sight that must have been. A little old gray haired lady flying out of that long driveway at break neck speed, jumping that curb, clearing those two trees and coming to an abrupt stop by an 8 foot fence. We called her Barney Oldfield for awhile. The name may not mean much to the younger generation but it called up the image of one of the first fast drivers of automobiles. When it was mentioned it brought to mind "recklessness". You could certainly classify this as such an event.
Written this 11 day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Our Wedding
This is a story that needs to be told, for laughs especially.
Jay and I had become engaged on the 3rd of July and set our Wedding for the 1st of August, 1947. It was a Friday night. Both of us had to work that day, which made for a crowded time to get so many things done. I left work after lunch and went straight to town to get gifts for the girls who were part of the Wedding Party. Namely Betty Peacock who took care of the Brides Book, Teresa Lessa (who a year later became Mrs. Robert Hildebrand) and Betty Powers (who later became Mrs. Chet Schuster.) Teresa was the maid of honor and Betty sang "Because" before the ceremony.
I believe I have told about why we were married in the Huntington Park Stake Center, so I won't cover that part of it again. Just those things that happened before and following the Wedding.
We had hired a friend of someone we worked with named "Cass" to take the wedding pictures.
She came early, as did I, and we got some great pictures of me getting ready in the Brides Room.
She got some swell pictures of the guest arriving, and at the Gift Table.
Jay had been hosted at a Bachelor Party the night before and had a "hang over" like you wouldn't believe. Though he denied it, I was told on good authority, he was willing to give anyone $20.00 to "hijack" him. No one took him up on his offer however. All the fellas he had gone to school with were there. Paul Minnic, Doug Hazelton, Chuck Reeder to name a few. Clyde Ropp was to be there, but he and his girl friend "Cokie" Roberts took advantage of the opportunity by driving to Las Vegas and getting married a few hours after Jay and I tied the knot.
Before the Wedding, the organizers at the Church kept dragging Doug Hazelton into the Church to take his place as the groom. Apparently the close resemblence of Jay and Doug was troublesome, at least to Doug. Bob Hildebrand was Jays Best Man, no one could have confused Bob with anyone else. Teresa kept too close an eye on Bob for that I suppose.
It wasn't that big a Wedding. We didn't want too big a group. I believe most attending were friends from work and Jays family. We didn't have much of a family in California to come. When
the ceremony was over everyone retired to the Patio where the cake was cut. One of the pictures show Jay and I confused. Neither one of us had the slightest idea how to go about cutting a Wedding Cake. We were finally instructed what was proper and did a fare job at it I guess.
As we left the Church Mother handed me her "overnight case". She had a few things she thought I might need. (As mentioned before we had an Apartment a month before the Wedding
that we had hosted a number of "Poker Parties" and "Hen Fests".) The sight of that Case put a damper on the fun that had been planned. Friends had planned a "Shiveree". Jay and I were so broke we couldn't have planned a honeymoon any place but our Apartment, which neither of us had stayed in that whole month. We had moved our things in, but that was the extent of it. Our Wedding Presents had been placed there, at least the ones we received before the Wedding. Mom and Dad took those from the Wedding home for us picked up later.
The Wedding Party went to the "Hilltop" night club on Signal Hill in Long Beach. As the group got out of their cars, ours of course had "Just Married" on it - some drunk leaving the Club shouted out: "that's O.K. Honey - you got him today, but he'll get you tonight". It was evident we had become the momentary butt of a joke. Young as I was my color surely changed, but in the dark no one noticed. Everyone laughed and we entered the Club in a good humor.
The Wedding Party took up a collection to pay for our dinners. We danced and ate and a toast was made for our happiness. We didn't get home until very early the next morning. Thankfully the gang hadn't been to the Apartment. If they had, I am sure the Land Lady would have joined in the fun. They had cowbells to tie to the springs of the bed, and whipped cream to smear on the sheets. I have no idea what else they had planned, but knowing them, it would have been a real mess to clean up.
The next day Clyde and "Cokie" came by to announce their marriage. We celebrated together on a no budget pocket book. We enjoyed many fun times with the group. They all got married within a year and a half of our Wedding. It appears we had set a precedence. Time has marched along since then.
Written this 11 day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Jay and I had become engaged on the 3rd of July and set our Wedding for the 1st of August, 1947. It was a Friday night. Both of us had to work that day, which made for a crowded time to get so many things done. I left work after lunch and went straight to town to get gifts for the girls who were part of the Wedding Party. Namely Betty Peacock who took care of the Brides Book, Teresa Lessa (who a year later became Mrs. Robert Hildebrand) and Betty Powers (who later became Mrs. Chet Schuster.) Teresa was the maid of honor and Betty sang "Because" before the ceremony.
I believe I have told about why we were married in the Huntington Park Stake Center, so I won't cover that part of it again. Just those things that happened before and following the Wedding.
We had hired a friend of someone we worked with named "Cass" to take the wedding pictures.
She came early, as did I, and we got some great pictures of me getting ready in the Brides Room.
She got some swell pictures of the guest arriving, and at the Gift Table.
Jay had been hosted at a Bachelor Party the night before and had a "hang over" like you wouldn't believe. Though he denied it, I was told on good authority, he was willing to give anyone $20.00 to "hijack" him. No one took him up on his offer however. All the fellas he had gone to school with were there. Paul Minnic, Doug Hazelton, Chuck Reeder to name a few. Clyde Ropp was to be there, but he and his girl friend "Cokie" Roberts took advantage of the opportunity by driving to Las Vegas and getting married a few hours after Jay and I tied the knot.
Before the Wedding, the organizers at the Church kept dragging Doug Hazelton into the Church to take his place as the groom. Apparently the close resemblence of Jay and Doug was troublesome, at least to Doug. Bob Hildebrand was Jays Best Man, no one could have confused Bob with anyone else. Teresa kept too close an eye on Bob for that I suppose.
It wasn't that big a Wedding. We didn't want too big a group. I believe most attending were friends from work and Jays family. We didn't have much of a family in California to come. When
the ceremony was over everyone retired to the Patio where the cake was cut. One of the pictures show Jay and I confused. Neither one of us had the slightest idea how to go about cutting a Wedding Cake. We were finally instructed what was proper and did a fare job at it I guess.
As we left the Church Mother handed me her "overnight case". She had a few things she thought I might need. (As mentioned before we had an Apartment a month before the Wedding
that we had hosted a number of "Poker Parties" and "Hen Fests".) The sight of that Case put a damper on the fun that had been planned. Friends had planned a "Shiveree". Jay and I were so broke we couldn't have planned a honeymoon any place but our Apartment, which neither of us had stayed in that whole month. We had moved our things in, but that was the extent of it. Our Wedding Presents had been placed there, at least the ones we received before the Wedding. Mom and Dad took those from the Wedding home for us picked up later.
The Wedding Party went to the "Hilltop" night club on Signal Hill in Long Beach. As the group got out of their cars, ours of course had "Just Married" on it - some drunk leaving the Club shouted out: "that's O.K. Honey - you got him today, but he'll get you tonight". It was evident we had become the momentary butt of a joke. Young as I was my color surely changed, but in the dark no one noticed. Everyone laughed and we entered the Club in a good humor.
The Wedding Party took up a collection to pay for our dinners. We danced and ate and a toast was made for our happiness. We didn't get home until very early the next morning. Thankfully the gang hadn't been to the Apartment. If they had, I am sure the Land Lady would have joined in the fun. They had cowbells to tie to the springs of the bed, and whipped cream to smear on the sheets. I have no idea what else they had planned, but knowing them, it would have been a real mess to clean up.
The next day Clyde and "Cokie" came by to announce their marriage. We celebrated together on a no budget pocket book. We enjoyed many fun times with the group. They all got married within a year and a half of our Wedding. It appears we had set a precedence. Time has marched along since then.
Written this 11 day of May 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
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