My Favorite Photo of my Dad

This is my favorite photo of my Dad. He is in his WWI uniform. I think he is very handsome but, of course, I am prejudiced. He served in the army a short time.

He grew up on a farm in Kansas and was quite a baseball player according to some of the newspaper articles I read. If my memory serves me right, he tried teaching in the little home town school the year after he graduated. He decided he needed to go to College and then teach. So he attended Ft. Hays State College in Hays, KS. Then he did teach school in Alden, Sharon Springs, Chase and another eastern Kansas town, the name of that town escapes me right now. He also served as a principal in one school.

In 1930, he took a test to become a clerk in the Ness City Post Office. He got the job because his service as a veteran gave him the needed "points" to get the job.

Daddy's "Case Exam"

My Dad worked in the Ness City Post Office from 1930-1950. Each year he had to take and pass a "case exam." This consisted of having a case with pigeonholes and 500 plus cards to put in the right pigeonhole. The cards contained the names of all the cities/towns in Kansas that had post offices and were about the size of a regular business card. The back of the card had the routing -essentially, the answer to whether Daddy put it in the right pigeonhole.

He came home for lunch each day. He would practice the case exam after he ate. When he did this, he would quietly say the name of each town or city. So I knew how to pronounce all the city/town names in Kansas when I was pretty little.

It was my job to check his practice exams to see how well he did. I did this from the time I was able to read.

Daddy always passed these "case exam" and was able to keep his job in the post office. I don't know whether he would have lost his job if he failed, but I think maybe that is the way it was.

8th Grade Graduation

Back in the "olden days" when I went to school, elementary school was grades 1 through 8 and high school were freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors. There was a graduation ceremony when we completed 8th grade. It was fun and exciting. The girls usually got new dresses. The one in the photo was one Mom made me. It was lavendar with white trim and I loved it. It was very stylish.

The best part about 8th grade graduation was that I got my braces off my teeth for that event - and I was supposed to go back and have them put on again. That didn't happen.

Braces back them were somewhat different from the way they are now. The dentist put "anchors" on the one tooth each side the front teeth and one each on one of the back teeth. When the dentist tightened the wire, it was really painful.

We drove to LaCrosse to see the dentist. I don't remember how far that was - 30 miles or so probably. Mom would drive me there and back home. Usually we would have soup for supper that night because it hurt too much to bite into anything.

The picture is one of the last ones taken without my glasses. I started wearing glasses the summer before high school. This picture also shows how I wore my hair all through high school. (My hair is a story for a later time!)

The infamous pigtails

This picture shows the infamous pigtails. You can see how thick they are but not how long. Mom always tied a ribbon around the pigtail to cover up the rubberband that held the braids. The ribbon was about 2 inches above the end of my hair.

1946 - new hairdo

"Pigtails"

When I was little I had short blond hair. You can see that in the 1942 photo even though I am wearing a hat. Somewhere along the line, my hair got to be brown with auburn highlights. It must have been after the California trip that I started growing my hair longer. That is when the "pigtails" came into being. My mother would part my hair down the middle and again down to my ear. Then she would braid the front part. When she got to the ear she would divide the rest of the hair in half, using the front braid for the third part of the braid. My hair is thick so the braid was thick, too. In the summertime, I could take the "pigtail" and tuck it under the first part of the braid so I didn't have hair hanging on my neck.

Some of my classmates also wore "pigtails" but they often got to wear their hair down on their shoulders. I would beg and beg to wear mine down. Once in a great while my mother would let me got to school with my hair down.

Of course, there were those days when whatever boy sat behind me in class would pull my "pigtails" and upset me.

I think I must have worn "pigtails" until I was about eleven. Finally, Mom let me get my hair cut - and I still have the end of one of those braids in a Creative Memories photo album.

"Tomboy"

I looked up the word "tomboy" this morning. The definition is a girl who behaves in a manner considered boyish, hoyden. So I looked up hoyden - a girl of saucy, boisterous, carefree behavior. That gave me something to think about because I have always considered myself as a "tomboy" but never a hoyden. However, I'll leave it up to you to figure out whether either definition is accurate for me.

There was a large vacant lot with an old barn on it behind our house. It was actually down the street and behind the houses at the other end of our block. The barn was torn down early on. The vacant lot was wonderful. We played baseball there. Yes, baseball. None of us owned a softball! Those who most often played there were Jim, Jigger, Harry, Dick (a neighbor a couple years younger), Jeanette and me. When we chose up sides to play a game, Jeannette and I were often chosen before some of the boys - and always before the other girls.

There were a couple other girls who were more interested in playing dolls or dress up. I played with them sometimes but I would rather be out with the gang playing baseball.

We also played Punch the Pig, Red Rover and Hide and Seek. All of us played these games.

Several years ago, Jim asked me if I ever had a doll. "Of course I had a doll!" His comment made me laugh - he said it must have been in "pristine" condition. Could be, I guess. It is long gone, given away or something.

I think I was probably a "tomboy" because I had 3 older brothers. They were so much older that we didn't play together. Mostly, they teased me.

California trip, photo

California Trip 1942

In 1942, Mom and I went to California to visit her parents, brothers, and one sister. I didn't want to go. What I really wanted to do was stay home with Daddy. All the way out, I was hot so I would take off my sweater. Then I would be cold, so I would put the sweater back on. The outcome of this was a bad case of pneumonia. My Aunt Verda called a pediatrician who made a house call. He decided I didn't need to go to the hospital but I could stay with Aunt Verda and Uncle Mike. I was a pretty sick little girl.

When I finally got so I could eat or drink something, they gave me orange juice mixed with half water. Yuck! It was a long time before I wanted to drink OJ! Then I graduated to mashed potatoes. Mother spent some time thinking she might not bring her little girl home again unless it was in a casket! Finally,I was strong enough to come home.

For several years after that, I had to wear ugly tan, long stockings. I hated them!

My Childhood Home

This little house is the only home I remember. It was discribed in the local paper when it was being built as a "five room efficiency home." It had a living room, an eat-in kitchen, two bedrooms, a full bath upstairs, a full basement with a laundry room, one bedroom, a large room that was the full length of the house, and a 1/4 bath.

There were about five steps up to the front porch. The front porch was a vital part of our home. That is where the family gathered to sit and watch the world go by. We would bring Mama's rocking chair (used to rock all of the babies)outside on the porch plus various straight backed chairs. The adults would sit in the chairs and we kids sat on the steps.

When people drove or walked by, they would often stop and come sit on the porch to visit. It was a much simpler time then when everyone knew their neighbors and most of the other folks in our small town.

My parents, my three older brothers and I lived in this "five room efficiency home." It would be considered a "starter" home now. While we didn't even think about it, we probably grew up poor but in a house that was filled with love.

That house no longer exists but I can see it in my mind's eye and recognize it as the home I grew up in!

Hand-sewn clothes

Growing up in the 40s and 50s in a small town was really pretty nice. Our friends knew our parents and we knew our friends' parents.

My mother made most of my clothes from the early days right on through my high school years, I guess. In the early years, flour came in printed material sacks. When the flour was gone, the sacks were washed. Then Mom would make blouses or skirts out of them. The sacks were quite often flower prints so the blouses were colorful and pretty.

She made sure that I always had clothes to wear. She had a sense of style that was ingrained in me. The clothes she made were "in style" and not a much different from what the other girls wore. I am sure other moms sewed for their daughters back then, too. There were girls who never had anything made for them by their moms. We did buy sweaters and coats but nearly everything else, she made. My Mom was a very talented seamstress.

Once in a while, there would be a "store-bought" dress or skirt but not too often. This happened more when I was in high school.

General Dwight D Eisenhower made the "Eisenhower" jacket popular during WW II. For you younger folks who don't know what an "Eisenhower" jacket is - it is a short jacket that actually had a band on the bottom that buttoned at the waist. It looked very nice with slacks. My jacket was checked wool in brown, light aqua and yellow if my memory serves me right. I really liked wearing that. I wore a sweather under the jacket.

"Squaw" skirts were popular when I was in high school. So Mom made me a white one, an aqua one and a red one with matching blouses. I even had those when I went to college. So they stayed in style. This style skirt is similar to the "broomstick" skirts that are popular now. They were fun to wear because they would twirl when I danced.

Darkness

This is something I wrote in January, 1992. It has some thoughts I would like to share.

I have seen the darkness before the dawn. It is a deep lonely darkness. Out of the darkness of our lives comes the lessons that enable us to walk our pathway - the experiences that give us strength to continue.

Our lives have degrees of darkness and light from the blackest time when we think the sun will never shine again to the most brilliant - almost blinding - light that comes to us.

I have walked in darkness when the light was only a dim memory - almost a dream. Then at some unexpected moment the light suddenly reaapeared to shine all about me.

Looking back I often can see the turning point when the darkness started to recede. Sometimes it is so gradual that I missed the beginning of the change. So it only seems the change is sudden. When the dawn comes and defeats the darkness, my spirit rises like a bird on the wing.

Darkness may come again into my life. As long as I remember that the light always vanquishes the darkness, I can continue walking through the darkness because I know the light will shine again.

Spectator heels

Recently my high school classmate and friend sent me a photo of her younger sister and me. We were all dressed up, sitting on the piano bench. We both were wearing spectator heels. Mine were brown and white but I don't remember what color her heels were. They might have been like mine or navy and white. These heels came in a variety of colors.

If you don't know what spectator heels look like, the heel and toe would be brown and the rest of the shoe white.

This photo reminded me that when I taught school many years ago, I wore these same spectator heels. The skirt styles were tight and the hem was about mid-calf. I taught 4th grade at Ft. Riley. I loved this age kid because they were still too young to be really smart alecky. When recess came around, I would go outside with the kids. They loved to play ball and I grew up being a tomboy. So I enjoyed playing ball with them. As Sophia on the Golden Girls always said, "Picture this...." Picture this, a neatly dressed teacher in a straight skirt playing softball with the kids! I usually had a pair of sneakers under my desk and I wore these at recess.

Isn't it amazing what memories a photo will bring back?