I knew I wanted the gallery wall in the downstairs reserved for family photos, but I also knew I wanted "A PLAN." It has taken me three years to formulate "my plan," and now that I've decided what I want, I'm sooooooooooo excited! I will take "before and after" pictures and do a blog when I have the project finished to show the end result. I'm mentioning it now because in the process of sorting through old family photos and working on the wall, I've come across several things that "speak" to me, and I want to record them for posterity's sake (or perhaps just simply for my own sake).
.jpg)
The photograph of my husband and his sister Marilyn reminded me of the following story that I wrote just before Steve's parents passed away (Mom in January and Dad in March of 2005).
Ingenuity Reaps Dividends
My husband Steve and I recently took an unscheduled trip to Utah, following the hospitalization of his elderly father and the word that his father would not be able to return home upon being dismissed from the hospital. The purpose for our trip was to help Steve’s parents—John and Helen (“Mom” and “Dad”)—make the transition from their home of many years to an assisted-living facility, and to honor their request that we make a new home for Fresca, their two-year-old Chihuahua. (Taking Fresca seemed a small thing to do to give Steve’s parents some piece of mind. How much trouble could one, eleven- pound dog be, after all?) A move of this nature evokes a great deal of emotion and causes many a “trip down memory lane.”
I asked my mother-in-law (Helen) how old my husband was when they purchased their home. She responded that he was five, meaning my in-laws had lived in the same home for 58 years! Remembering some of the stories Helen had told me, I asked her to verify a few facts and figures so I could records some of this for posterity, hoping that our children and grandchildren will someday be as interested in tales of their ancestors as I am in hearing about my parents and grandparents when they were young.
One story in particular has become a favorite because it demonstrates Helen’s qualities of industry and ingenuity, admirable characteristics she passed on to my husband.
John was serving in World War II and Helen at that time had two young children, Steve and his sister Marilyn, two years his junior. John received only $100 per month military pay which he sent to Helen to cover housing, food, clothing, medical expenses, transportation, and anything else his family needed. Among the things Helen did to earn extra money (and also to save money) were picking raspberries, sewing, and raising a garden.
In June of 1942 (just a year after my husband was born), the Ward Production Board ordered that family sewing machine production be stopped inasmuch as materials such as iron, steel, aluminum and copper were needed for the War effort. In addition, sales of factory dewing machines to the public were frozen and the machines were used for stitching tents, tarpaulins, ignition pads, clothing, parachute harnesses, and other items in support of the War effort. This order was in effect until July 1945, and allowed only for limited production of repair parts and needles. (Information obtained from the Singer website.) This resulted in a shortage of sewing machines and sewing machine parts to families at a time when they desperately needed them. Helen recognized in this situation an opportunity to help not only her family but others, as well.
Helen had a good sewing machine and was an accomplished seamstress. Many were anxious to retain her services to sew articles of clothing for themselves or their family members; others just needed to have button holes added to items they had constructed. Helen said that at times there would be a line of people waiting on her front porch to have buttonholes added to garments they had sewn. Sometimes customers wanted to have returned to them any fabric left over from the articles Helen sewed for them; others told her that she could keep the remnants. Little did they know how adept Helen was at turning those remnants into attractive clothing for her growing children.
Helen, who later earned the certification “Master Gardener,” and who for most of her life has been actively involved in garden clubs and in judging floral competitions, even as a young mother possessed a “green thumb.” She raised several things in her garden that were appealing to her neighbors as well as to her family. In fact, Helen learned quickly that her neighbors found it hard to resist a 4-year-old “salesman,” pulling behind him a wagon that was full to the brim of ripe tomatoes, crisp green beans, corn on the cob, and other irresistibly fresh produce. More than once, Steve sold everything in the wagon, and returned home for restocking, so he could venture out again. At that young age, he was not allowed to cross the street, but he seemed to have plenty of customers with the “legal” boundaries of his entrepreneurial activities. The neighbors must particularly have enjoyed seeing Steve coming with his wagon when he was dressed in one of the costumes his mother had made for him, such as the Indian costume complete with moccasins and a feather headband, or (as in the above picture) in the pint-sized sailor suit sent by his father who was serving in the Navy.
By means of these creative efforts, not only was Helen able to supplement the $100 per month military pay with income sufficient to meet the needs of their family, but by the time John returned from WWII, Helen surprised him by having saved $2,000 for a down payment on a home. The same home they have lived in the past 58 years! Helen said they paid $22,000 for the home. She added that there had been another house they looked at and liked by the asking price was $25,000 and that was “way out of (their) price range.”
John and Helen have not yet sold this home of 58 years and, should a miracle happen, there’s a chance they might be able to return to it in the spring. Chances are, though, that this chapter is coming to a close, and it will soon be necessary to bid farewell to this place we’ve all known as “home.” Knowing this caused us to look a bit differently at the home when we pulled out of the driveway recently to head back east. (I might add that I had one very calm, seemingly content Chihuahua on my lap. I could not know until later than the tranquilizer the Vet had administered had reduced this admittedly handsome dog to a “civilized” state.) The trip down memory lane also caused me to suggest to Helen that “when the time comes,” we would like to make a new home for the little wagon filled with flowers in her back yard. The same little wagon that carried “FRESH PRODUCE FOR SALE” so many years ago. Likely, this aged and “well-cured” little wagon will be easier to contain than a two-year-old Chihuahua with Attention Deficit, Hyperactive Disorder. We do love Steve’s parents, and we’re determined to love Fresca, too. She’s really not defective; her “wagger,” her “licker,” and her “wetter” work exceptionally well. Just a little more time and we should have it down pat . . .
(written 9 November 2004)
Notes added 18 June 2009: Helen passed away on 18 January 2005, and John just two months later, so the trip we made to UT in October of 2004 was, in fact, the last time we would visit Steve’s parents in their home. They were married 67 years, most of which were spent in that home.
And speaking of Fresca, my friend Kathy’s mother had one small dog and was looking for a second as a companion to the first. Both Kathy and her mother are dog lovers and we knew Fresca would be loved, IF it were a good match (she loves to rule the roost). Indeed, it was a match made in heaven. Kathy’s mother is similar in age to Helen, so Fresca felt right at home, and she and Snoopy get along famously. Fresca gained a home similar to the one she had, along with a new playmate, and Steve and I gained PEACE (ah, sweet peace). Neither Steve nor I thought his Mother would mind. Don’t you just love it when everybody wins?!!!!
