Email to me from my dear high school friend and college roommate, Terry Bell.
This morning I took my regular 130 mile round trip visit to see my mother.
Up I-5, I-205 and I-84 to the Wood Village exit and then right, up to Cherry
Park. Her home is just across Cherry Park from Reynolds High. As I zipped by 181st, Mt. Hood was dangling from, or rising into, the sky. A wispy cloud extended the sides of the upper mountain at about the 7,000-foot level, and below it was hazy enough to erase the lower part of the mountain to give the impression that Hood was
ascending with a few foothills into the high, thin air.
A kind of bittersweet sense of familiarity. This is the same view we saw
hundreds of times as we neared our high school homes. And now I am doing
it again for what may be many many more times at this other end of 40+
years, visiting the very sad lady I knew who lived in my home when we were
all younger and more vital. A sense of longing and loss, the melancholy
that slips in when I try to reconcile who I am with who I was. Sometimes a
feeling of self-pity for being old, but also with a feeling of mild hope
because I'm not old enough to see the end as perhaps my mother does. Bittersweet familiarity.
Also another way bittersweet. Do you remember the feeling of open road,
open window and going, on your own in your (father's or brother's) car to
places for the moment new and unknown? Exhilaration and sweet freedom!
Wordsworth's "splendor in the grass, glory in the flower" that comes with
every youth's experience of springtime, when the blood is up and the wind is
in the face. All is green with spring in Oregon. And yes, Don, you may
even slip in your metaphor of the beautiful "love in bloom", the iris photograph, at this point if you are feeling so inclined.
But, the bitter is also present. No matter how I try to make it happen, I
can't find the same thrill in experience as I did in those earlier years. I
remember riding my bike in Lacey, Washington with my pointing fingers curled
over a baseball bat across my handlebars. It was almost perfect-the wind,
the light stress of the legs, the speed. But there was one hindrance to
perfection: the baseball bat that made my grip on the handlebars awkward. I
decided I could do this again without the baseball bat and find utter
perfection. But I never did. It was a perfect moment, even though I didn't
recognize it fully.
Still, there is joy to be had in small experiences as we live on. (Thanks
for your flower.) On the way home, I put on a tape (ABBA Greatest Hits) and
turned it up as loud as I could take it (until my ears were bound to age
another month in less than an hour) and pretended to let the wind blow my
hair back. "Pretended" because the only way my hair blows at all is when I'
m facing downwind and my comb-over blows up and my side hairs blow out.
Nevertheless it was a perfectly imperfect moment.
I've had a lot of these kinds of emotions recently. Some because of our
recent reunion, some because I am revisiting our old stomping grounds off
182nd more frequently than I really want, and some for other reasons.
All-in-all, I don't get too depressed, but I am really good at Melancholy.
Terry Bell
Friday, May 25, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
A BIT OF HISTORY
A BIT OF HISTORY
An Autobiography of
Mildred L. Clement
Written 1979 -1981
Several years ago, my boys indicated how much they would appreciate my writing down some of the stories and happenings of my life, since my early childhood, things they have heard me tell and that they would like to have the grandchildren know about. On the following pages, I shall attempt to do just that.
Part I: 1907-1933
I was born in Greer County, Oklahoma, near the small town of Granite, in a large old farmhouse surrounded by cotton fields. I was the thirteenth child of Sarah Ellen, and William Ryla Cross. Preceding me were seven brothers and five sisters.
My mother was almost forty-eight years old, and my father, just past fifty when I was born.
My papa raised cotton for a living. So there would always be food for his big family, he also raised cattle, hogs, chickens and vegetables. My brothers, Burt and Al, and my sister Minnie were all married before I was born, and sister Maud, soon after.
Minnie’s husband, Robert Ligon, died when their son Elwood was only two years old. Elwood was four days younger than my brother Melvin. Min was very young and moved back home with our folks so they could be of help to her. Many times she would find work in nearby towns and would have to leave Elwood in their care. Mama and Papa raised him along with my three brothers. They were well known as the four little Cross boys. They had such fun growing up together and, oh the mischief they managed to get into. It was great to them to play Indians and cowboys. They would try riding the calves around the big cow lot. I am sure they received many bruises and were black and blue from falling off and also from Papa’s chastisement. He forbid them to ride the calves. But boys will be boys and they would take a chance and do it anyway. They thought the fun was worth it.
The whole family helped with the many chores around the farm. And, of course they all picked cotton when it was ready in the early fall.
Mama also went out to work in the fields after she was through with the house chores. She would take me with her. Cotton was picked and put into long canvas sacks held onto their shoulder with a strap and pulled up and down the cotton rows. At the end of the rows would be scales where the cotton was weighed and recorded. It was emptied into specially built wagons and hauled to the big cotton gin, nearby. There, the seeds were removed and the cotton packed and baled, ready for shipping all over the country to the big mills to be spun into thread and then woven into cloth of all kinds. When Mama took me out to the fields with her, different ones of the family, usually one of my brothers, would put me on the end of their sack and pull me up and down the rows with them. What fun for me!
About once a month, the whole family would go into town to buy supplies, food, shoes and clothing. Papa would park our big wagon in the towns wagon lot. There was always one in back of the business district of each small town. This trip was always a chance for friends, neighbors, and relatives to get together for visiting and an exchange of news and gossipy tidbits. Usually everyone brought lunches from home which would be shared and eaten from the wagons out in the wagon lot. Before going home, Papa would usually treat all of our own family to a big bowl of chiIi, Texas-style, no beans, at my uncle Jim Christy’s restaurant.
People came from miles around to buy this chili, it was so good. Uncle Jim was married to my Papa’s sister, Annie.
When Papa sold his cotton, he would pay each of the children his or her share of the “Pickin’ Money.” I was too young to earn any money, but Papa and all the rest of my brothers and sisters would give me all of the pennies, or coppers, as most people called them in those days. My hair was a ‘‘new copper’’ color and stayed that way until I was a grown woman. I kept my coppers in an old baking powder can. When it was full, or time to go to town, I was allowed to spend it on special treats such as stick candy or chewing gum. By the way, gum in those days was round, about the size of a dollar. It came five pieces to a box. The box was a little round tin one, usually a light purple in color with a lid. No gum since then has ever tasted so good.
In those days, along about 1910, Brush Arbor, or Protracted Church Meetings, were very popular. My family usually attended at least two a year. They would take plenty of food and sleeping things along, as did everyone else for miles around, and spend from three to five days in these big camp outs. Everyone ate together at big long tables. And, there were make-shift buildings to sleep in, usually just big roofs and open on the sides.
The story was always told of how my brother, Morgan, and cousin, Clifford Cross, would always take me around with them the first day or so to meet all of the pretty young ladies. The girls would “oh and ah” over the cute little red-haired girl they had with them.
In other words, they used me for bait. As soon as they had looked all the gals over and made their choice, it was back to Mama for me. Needless to say, I was just a bit spoiled over all this attention. But, being the baby of such a big family, I was a spoiled brat, anyway.
The older boys in our family had their own transportation, horses and buggies. My sister, Edna, was old enough to date, and being a very pretty girl had all the boyfriends she could handle.
The rest of us traveled in Dad and Mom’s big lovely black Surrey. Yes, it had a fringe all the way around the top. It also had Ising Glass (plastic) curtains which could be lowered to protect us from the weather.
Sunday was usually an all day affair at the church, because the distance was too great to make the trip twice in one day. So again, lunches were packed and eaten in or near the church. This was mostly in the fall and winter. In the summer, the relatives, Papa’s sisters and brothers, all lived within a few miles of one another, so all the families would get together every few weeks for Sunday dinners. I can see in my mind yet all the great amounts of food put on the tables. But of course, the children always had to wait until the grownups had finished their dinner before we were allowed to come into the dining room to eat.
One time when the clan had all gathered at our home, we children were all playing out in the front yard, waiting until mealtime. There were Gladys, Woodford, Elva, Willene, Raymond, besides cousins whose names I can’t recall. Anyway, I fell into the middle of a large red ant den! I was severely bitten all over before the older kids pulled me off. They called for help. My Uncle Dan’s wife, Aunt Georgie, rushed around and filled a big tub with water and poured a whole bottle of bluing bleach into it, then proceeded to undress me and dunk me into the blue, blue water. It immediately stopped the horrible itching and the swelling. I was one blue little gal, but I recovered nicely after a few days.
This Aunt Georgie was quite a gal. None of the kids liked her ‘cause she was always so cross and cranky. I scared her most to death one day when the women of the family were all at our house tying a quilt. My papa and his brother, Uncle Charlie, had me sneak in where they were working and toss a horny toad right in the middle of it. You should have heard the screams. Aunt Georgie was so mad she was really going to blister me. But, Papa was waiting just outside the door and scooped me up in his arms and took me out to the barn where he let me play in the corn crib as a reward for playing the joke for him. After it was all over, most of the women just laughed. But, not Aunt Georgie. She never did get over it. It was fun. I guess I needed spanking, but with my papa around, no spanking for me, ever! I was his little doll.
It was late in 1910 or early 1911 I saw my first automobile.
It came chugging down the road in front of our house making a lot of noise. Gladys and I were so scared. We actually ran and hid. We could not imagine what kind of monster it was.
Later on in the year, we also saw our first elephant. It had escaped from a circus in a nearby town. Two men from the circus had found it and were leading it back. Whew! What an exciting year for this little redhead of the Cross clan, which she was never to forget.
I can remember a big cyclone, too.
You could always see them in the sky when they were still miles away. They looked like big black funnel clouds. When Mama would see them coming she would gather us children all together in the storm cellar. Papa and the boys hurried in from the fields, or wherever they were working, and joined us in the cellar until the cyclone passed on. The cellar was a big room dug out underground and well shored up with heavy timbers. Mama kept it stocked with plenty of supplies. As far as I can remember, we were never hit, and felt lucky.
In 1911, I saw my first telephone, too. It was a big long black box on the wall, having a crank on the side which was used to get the operator, who was called “Central.”
She would then connect you with whoever you were trying to reach. It was another big mystery for a child to try and figure out.
My cousin, Dr. Garvin Cross, had it installed in his parents’ home after he moved to Mangum so he could keep in close touch with them, Aunt George and Uncle Dan. They were not too well. We all thought it funny because Uncle Dan would not answer the phone until he had combed his hair very nicely, seeming to think he could be seen over the phone.
Garvin was a fine doctor and also very handsome. He was married with a lovely wife and two kids. He worked in the hospital in Mangum. A nurse there fell in love with him and when he refused to leave his family for her, she secretly poisoned him. His death went unsolved, but a few years later, the nurse left a note confessing to killing him and then took her own life.
Papa was having a bad time trying to make a living on our once prosperous farm.
All of a sudden, nothing would grow. He and the older boys at home, Ed and Morgan, talked it over and decided the two boys would go out west to Washington state and see how things looked, work-wise. Dad and Mom had lived out there in their young married days, in 1887 and 1888.
My sister, Maud, was born there in January of 1888. But at that time, before the big mills, it was hard to make a living there, too, and they had moved back to Texas, staying in Texas and New Mexico until early 1904. They then moved to Oklahoma.
Well, the two boys did go out to Kelso, Washington.
They found plenty of work and came back to Oklahoma to help Papa arrange to move the rest of the family out there. The family all was very excited over the move. We all went, except for Minnie and Elwood and the ones that were married. We kids enjoyed the trip on the train and Dad and Mama had high hopes for the future.
Minnie was working in a big Harvey Girl restaurant and making a good living for herself and Elwood.
I don’t recall very much of the trip West, except the eating and sleeping. Everyone had to furnish their own food. After we ran out of what we started out with, Dad and the boys would have to stop off in a hurry at some of the train stops and buy food.
We arrived in Kelso tired and weary. But, Ed and Morgan, who had preceded us by a few weeks, had rented and furnished a house for us. We were always optimistic and so happy to be a family again. Dad and the boys all got good jobs at a big shingle mill. Even Lee, who was 17 or 18, found different jobs and, all in all, we got along fine. Edna went to work as a maid at the Washington Hotel. She liked it much better than picking cotton. It wasn’t long before Min and Elwood came out, too. They missed the family too much. Min got a job at the hotel with Edna.
The shingle mill, McClane’s, was built right on the water of the Cowiitz River. The boys were so excited living so close to the water. My papa had forbidden them to play near it and especially on the rafts of logs there, awaiting to be made into lumber and shingles. It was very dangerous, for it would be so easy for them to slide off the logs and get hurt. Well, that’s just what happened. They disobeyed Papa and played on the logs. Melvin slid off scraping his neck on a log, getting a big cedar sliver in his throat. The other boys were scared of the punishment they thought they would get from Papa, and did not tell the folks about it. A few days later, Melvin became very ill and was taken to a doctor, who said he had a bad case of blood poisoning. This doctor used an untested serum on Melvin and in doing so, drove the poison ail over his body. His leg joints stiffened. He could not walk properly. Every so often he would break out in absesses and boils which were very painful. He suffered so much for the next ten years.
About this time, Morgan married Edna Bloyd. I can’t recall much about it. It was in 1913.
Melvin did learn to walk with a cane, but was never entirely free from pain. The folks became very discouraged. They finally decided to move back to Oklahoma and the drier climate.
We did go back, and what a mistake that was. It did not help in the least. The work situation was worse than ever. After a few months, it was back to Kelso.
By this time, Morgan and Edna were parents of a baby boy, named Lonnie Wendell.
Gladys, Homer and I were all going to school in Kelso and had many friends.
Elwood married when he was quite young to Anna Lasene. In 1917, they had a little girl, Robbie Maxine. From the very first, I was crazy about her and loved to take care of her. Minnie was so fond of this, her first grandchild.
Edna and Min were still working at the hotel when they both got jobs on one of the big passenger boats, the Joseph Kellogg. They worked in the dining room and had their own sleeping rooms on the boat. The boat was a big old stern wheeler that hauled passengers and freight all up and down the river between Portland and Kelso.
Gladys and I were allowed to be with the girls a lot and made many trips with them. The food was great. There was always a big wooden barrel of cookies in the galley, as the kitchen was called. We could always help ourselves.
I always felt very close to Minnie. She was just a second mother to me. Mama was so busy taking care of Melvin. She was so devoted to him, trying to make his life more comfortable.
Both Minnie and Edna eventually married men that also worked on the boat; Edna, Albert Olsen and Min, Edward Johnson Morgan. Ed soon quit the boat and he and Minnie moved to Salem, Oregon. Edna and Al moved to Portland.
I’ll never forget those wonderful trips on the old Kellogg, going up and down that Cowlitz River. It seemed like such a big river then and it really was not. The boat was an old paddle wheeler and very fascinating to a young child who possessed a very vivid imagination.
Our family perhaps was called poor in worldly goods, but we were also about the happiest big family around, and that really was what counted. Mama kept us all clean and well fed, even though with plain food.
Papa bought Gladys and I a piano when I was ten years old. He was so fond of all kinds of music and was quite a fiddle player, himself. He entertained us many winter nights with playing and singing of old cowboy songs; many he had composed himself. We took lessons for several months.
World War I started in Europe and soon our United States was drawn into it. All of the young men were being called into service. Lee was drafted and sent to Fort Lewis, Washington on June 18, 1918. It was only a few weeks until he was sent overseas.
The only news we could get of the war came strictly from the newspapers out of Portland, Oregon. The papers arrived at the train station about five in the evening. The whole town seemed to congregate there to get the papers as soon as they arrived. The casualty lists were published each day and everyone would scan through them. They were always thankful if their loved ones’ names did not show up. Edna, Morgan’s wife, had a brother killed over there. Lee was hit by poison mustard gas and was blind for several weeks. He was soon sent home. That was in May of 1919. By that time, the family had moved to Salem, Oregon.
Ed and Morgan moved our household goods from Kelso to Salem in two big wagons. It took them almost three days. Homer helped them. Melvin stayed in Portland with Edna and Al until we got settled. Papa, mama, Gladys and I came on the train. The day we arrived in Salem was March 7, 1919. We went to Minnie and Ed’s and stayed there until our things arrived. Minnie had found a house for us at 830 S. E. 14th St.
During my childhood in Kelso, I had lots of fun. My best friends were usually boys because I loved to play baseball and was pretty good at pitching, so they always let me play. They tell me I was a tough little cookie and could hold my own with anyone.
Our movie house was a short distance from our house. It changed pictures every night and only cost ten cents. They held a talent show each week. Kids would sing, play an instrument or recite poetry. I would win most every week. My sister, Edna, was very musical and taught me a lot of cute little songs and also taught me a lot in ways of presenting them. We would get a dollar if we won on Friday nights, and $5.00 if we won again at the end of the month. My papa was very proud of me and encouraged me to become a singer, but that wasn’t easy to do in those days.
After we moved to Salem, Papa, Ed and Homer all got work at the Spaulding Lumber MilI, and Lee too, when he came home from the war. We were a close, happy family again. Gladys and I went to the old Yew Park School the rest of the year. Not long after this, both Burt and Morgan moved to Salem, too. Burt and Mollie both worked at the woolen mill. Morgan worked on a big dairy farm near Gervais, Oregon.
Dad and the other boys decided they wanted to start farming again, so we found a nice place out in the Middle Grove district. Gladys and I loved going to a country school for the first time. Just before we moved to the country, the house we were living in caught fire one evening at supper time. All of the new school clothes Gladys and I had bought were burned, but most everything else was saved. It seemed a tragedy to us. But, neighbors and friends pitched in and helped us and we made it just fine.
Melvin’s health was growing worse. He suffered so much and was a great care and such a burden for my mother. Never once did she complain, but always did her best for him.
Gladys and I had to walk three miles to school. Many times some of our boyfriends would ride out to meet us on their bikes and give us rides on the handlebars. What fun!
That winter of 1921, we were snowed in, two or three feet deep, with drifts much higher. Everything came to a stop. We were growing short of food supplies and medicine for Mel. Lee and Gladys decided to walk into Salem, seven miles away, to bring back as much as they could. They made it just fine, stayed all night with Minnie and came back the next day. Someone gave them a ride most of the way back.
In the fall of 1921, we moved back to Salem. Gladys and I went to Grant Junior High School. Gladys quit school after that year. She had been late starting to school and felt she was too old. I went on to Washington Junior High. I made lots of friends, many of whom I still have. After I finished the eighth grade, I, too, quit school. I wanted to find a job, but of course, I was too young. The main reason I quit school, I must admit, was for lack of nice clothes. I can see now what a stupid excuse it was. No matter what, I should have stayed with it.
In September of 1922, Lee and Gladys both got married. Lee, to Edith Swanson and Gladys, to Walter Edwards. They had a double wedding. Edith and Gladys had been good friends ever since we moved to Salem. Edith lived close to Minnie and Ed. Lee and Walter worked at the Salem Fire Department.
Later that fall, Papa, Mama, Ed, Melvin and I moved to a rented farm out in the Waldo Hills. It was a beautiful place, very well kept and partially furnished, including a huge library with hundreds of good books. The owners just wanted to rent it for two years and were very generous with what they charged for rent. I think I really furthered my education by reading most of the books.
Dad and Ed found the work too much for the two of them, so Lee left his job at the Fire Department. He and Edith moved out with us. There was plenty of room for us all. We had some great times after the day’s work and supper was over. We, all of us, would gather around a big table and play an old card game called Rook. Oh, what a joyous time of my life this was. The fireplace in the living room was huge. It would take three foot logs and was beautiful. Almost every night, Ed would pop big pans of corn over this fire.
They had left a piano at the house and I still had my own. Edith and I had great times playing them. We practiced mostly hymns.
Speaking of my reading the library that winter, some books were pretty deep for me, but my brother, Ed, was a real brainy guy and he, along with my brilliant mother, helped me to understand most of what I read. Ed had gone to college in Texas long ago.
In March of 1923, Mother had to go to Portland to be with my sis, Edna, who was expecting her first child in April. She was having a rough time and needed Mom. Alberta was born on April 26, 1923, a doll!
When Mom went to Portland, I had to take over the household duties, including the cooking, washing and taking care of Melvin. I had to do all of the bread and pastry baking. Edith helped all she could, but by this time she too was expecting a child and did not feel well. I had to wash clothes on a washboard and hang it all to dry. It was great training for me, I’m sure, but I thought it a bit much at the time. My dad was so good to help out as this following story will prove.
I had to bake bread at least three times a week. I was only just past fifteen years old and all of this was quite a chore for one so young. This is the incident that really stands out. Dad and the boys had been in for lunch and gone back to their wood cutting. I put my bread on to rise in a nice warm place, and away Edith and I went for our short walk. A way back in the woods we found an old abandoned house with a yard full of glorious yellow daffodils in full bloom. We walked and walked, came back by the house and flowers, and decided to take just a few home with us. We picked armfuls of them, completely forgetting time, and the bread dough on the back of the stove at home. We finally did get home to find bread dough alt over the place. About that time, Dad walked in and saw the mess. Of course, I was crying. He didn’t scold at all, but just helped to get it into the pans. Later on when it was baked, it really turned out quite well. The story was told for years and got a little worse with each telling. Dad realty got a big kick out of our “daffodil walk.”
There were two very gentle horses on the farm, and Edith and I would put bridles on them and ride all over the farm bareback. There was a big hill close by with three big oak trees at the top. We would ride up there and look out over the Willamette Valley. What carefree days those were. I’ve been lots of places, but nothing was more beautiful than our “Oak Tree Hill.”
Melvin came back from Portland, and then I had to spend most of the time close to the house. Mother came home after Alberta’s birth, and I went to Portland to help Edna.
Melvin was almost always in a good humor, never complained. We all loved him very much. He was so brave and a good Christian young man.
Late that summer, Dad, Mom, Ed, Melvin and I moved back into Salem, to 1560 Hines Street. Dad and Ed could not find work, and we had a pretty hard time making a go of it. Lee and Edith moved to St. Helen’s, Oregon, where Laurine was born October 12, 1923. They did not stay there long, but moved back to Salem, out in the Fruitland district. They lived out on the old Foster place with Gladys and Walt for a while, also.
Morgans were living nearby in the Pratum district. We all went to the Methodist Church in Pratum, for by this time we had moved just down the road from Lee’s and Morgan’s, too.
This was a sweet time of my life. I started dating steady a fine young man, Otto Kleen. What a wonderful summer.
Gladys and Walter had moved to a farm in Polk County where their baby boy, Donald Leroy, was born on June 13th, 1924. Gladys and I
were such pals and always very close, so I felt as if little Donnie Lee was mine, too. And, my sis never wanted for a baby sitter. I simply adored him.
In August, I had scarlet fever in a bad way, such high fever and trouble with my ears. While I was still very ill Melvin had a bad spell and died on August the twenty-seventh. It was so sad and unreal to me because of my illness. Minnie came from St. Helen’s and, as soon as I was able, she took me home with her. I only weighed eighty pounds, and the family was very worried. I had a good time in St. Helen’s, lots of friends, and soon I became my old self.
Some time later on, we moved dawn to Arcata, California, where Maud and her family lived. Ed found a summer job, and I, along with Maud’s girl, Oleta, went to work thinning carrots. Arcata was a little town close to the beach. We young people were always having beach parties at good old Clam Beach.
After Ed’s job was finished, we came back to Salem. We moved in with Minnie and Ed until we could find a place of our own.
Well, again the house on Hines street was vacant and we moved into it. I started chumming with Nettie Hutcheon, who only lived a block away. We became lifetime friends. We both had red hair and had lots of fun dressing alike. She was working in her father’s paint store and would buy the material and I would do the sewing and make our dresses alike. We always looked cute. Nettie would paint our shoes to match our dresses. Quite a deal! We had lots of dates and lots of boyfriends.
That fall and winter brought a big change in my life. First, I met a nice young man, Clayton Hamilton, the night the old Cherry City Flour Mill burned. Everyone in town could see the fire and a lot of us went down as close as we could. Clayton was from North Dakota, visiting his grandparents in Salem. We dated all that fall and Winter and into the spring.
My mother and I had worked at the cannery and really did quite well, money-wise. But she complained of not feeling well. In March of 1929, she suffered a bad gallstone attack. We took her to the hospital where she was operated on, on March 1st. She never recovered from it and went home to the Lord on March 12,1929.
I wanted to go ahead and keep house for Dad and Ed, but they would not hear of it. They went to live with Lee and Edith, and I, to Gladys and Walt’s.
Ed never married. He devoted his life to taking care of Mom and Dad. I was happy being at Gladys’ on account of little Donnie. He was five years old then and really helped me over the rough spots. What a blessing.
On November 28. 1929, Clayton and I were married at the First Baptist Church in Salem. We had a good three years together. He worked at the old Linen Mills in Salem. During a shut-down at the mill, we bought a new 1931 Ford Roadster, a convertible, and drove back to North Dakota to visit his parents. They were the Postmasters of Cavalier, North Dakota and very fine people.
It was spring-like in Oregon, but still very much winter in the Midwest. We left Salem on a beautiful, sunny day, March 10, 1931. Our cute little car was very comfortable. None of the cars had heaters, but we were nice and warm. The car had nice plastic curtains that kept the cold out.
We would drive from about nine to three each day to avoid being out on the highway after dark, in case we’d have trouble, but we had none. We stayed in lovely hotels and ate all our meals in good restaurants, really first class all the way. We really enjoyed every minute of it. It was fifty-five degrees below zero all the way across Wyoming, but none of it bothered us.
We stopped in Omaha, Nebraska for a few days visit with Clayton’s brother, Dick. He was single and about the nicest young man I ever met. He decided to take two weeks off and go on up to Cavalier with us. We were all in our early twenties. Life seemed so wonderful and ready for living. We got the most out of it we could.
We arrived in Cavalier amid a big snow storm, three feet deep.
Hamilton’s had a lovely, large home which made quite an impression on me. Not realizing how cold North Dakota was going to be, I had not taken warm enough clothes. Clayton’s mother, a very charming, sweet lady, immediately took me on a big shopping spree. She bought me all kinds of clothes, some lovely knit dresses, suits, boots and a beautiful winter coat. I felt like Cinderella. We all enjoyed our stay together.
One Saturday night, the two boys and I, along with some of their friends drove about fifty miles to a highly advertised dance. It was a popular new band who everyone was raving about. It was a somebody and his five piece jazz band. They were good. I found out in later years that it was Lawrence Welk!
Clayton and I stayed on in North Dakota after Dick went back to Omaha. I hated to see him leave. He was such a loving, warm person. We stayed another few days with him on our way back home to Salem.
We returned to Salem rather reluctantly for we had enjoyed North Dakota so much. But, I missed Donnie Lee Edwards and wanted to get back to him and Gladys.
Coming back to Salem, we started running around with a rather wild crowd of young people, both married and singles. It was in the midst of the big Depression. We both became interested in other people, and finally decided to call it quits. We both insisted we still loved each other and that we always would. We just did not know how to handle our problems, not enough money, too much flattery and attention from others. We separated in September of 1932.
That next March, I met the true love of my life, Henry Clement. After filing for divorce from Clayton in October of 1933, I married Henry on May 3,1934.
Clayton returned to North Dakota and, after several years, married a lady ten years his senior. They were happily married until his death of cancer in 1956.
Hank’s and my life together was beautiful and we were blessed with three handsome sons. It is a story all its own.
Part II: 1934-1981
In September of 1928, the boy who lived next door to my family and I at 1560 Hines Street in Salem introduced me to his best friend, Hank Clement. Hank came driving up in his little Model T Roadster to see Jimmy and told him he’d like to meet the little redhead next door. So, Jim brought him over. I thought he was very nice, but at the time felt that there was too much difference in our backgrounds for us to ever become better acquainted.
His father was the well known Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist, Dr. L. 0. Clement. His mother was a very prominent society lady, president of the American Association of University Women, and also in various other clubs including the Salem Women’s Club and the Medical Auxiliary. I never dreamed how precious they would one day be to me. My family being poor made them seem wealthy to me. They lived in one of Salem’s most beautiful homes on North Capital Street.
At the time, I was dating several boys, including a star football player from Silverton, Oregon, and also Clayton Hamilton, who I later married.
That Christmas of 1928, Hank’s family had moved into a lovely new house at 345 17th St. Hank was home from college, Oregon State, and his mother had a big party for him and his friends. This was their first Christmas in the new house. One of Hank’s friends, Dick Weatherford, a student at Willamette University, invited me as his date to Hank’s party. I went and had a lovely time. It was just like a fairytale to me. I had never been to such a lovely place. Everyone treated me great. I didn’t get much chance to get to know Hank that night because he was kept busy playing the piano so the rest could dance.
I really felt like Cinderella. When I got home, I told Mom about how lovely it had been. There were young people there from all the elite families, but they were very friendly and treated me as if I was one of them. My date was partly responsible for this, as he was very well liked. I can remember saying to my mom that I hoped that someday I would find someone like Hank Clement to spend the rest of my life with. Her answer to me was, “Don’t worry about it, Baby. Mama will pray about it, and everything would be okay.” What a wonderful mother.
I settled down into going with just one fellow, Clayton. That next spring, March 12th, my mother died after her gallstone operation. It was very hard on the whole family to lose Mom. Dad and Ed did not want to keep up our home, so they went to live with Lee and Edith, and I, to Gladys and Walt’s.
In November, 1929, Clayton Hamilton and I were married on Thanksgiving Day. Clayton and I were divorced in 1933, although we remained friends until his death in 1956.
After a while on my own, I moved back to live with Gladys and Walt. And of course, Don was my salvation. Doing things with him and taking him with me all the time helped me through some dark days.
In March of 1933, on a Saturday night, Gladys insisted that I go to a party with them at their friends’, the Hugh Maden’s. Maden’s had a son, Roy. I had known Roy for several years before my marriage. He and his wife, Tiny, lived there, and they had a group of friends in for a party. There was a young man playing the piano. It was Hank Clement, who I had first met in 1928! We immediately hit it off. He was there without a date, too. He took me home, and we started dating steadily.
At this party, I sat down by Hank on the piano bench. He turned, looked at me, and gave me a big kiss, didn’t say a word, just grinned. I told him that wasn’t very nice. So, he gave me another kiss and asked, “Was that better?” Cute!
A few weeks later, I was invited over to the Clement home for dinner with Dr. and Mrs. Clement. They seemed to like me, and I was very impressed with how gracious they were to me. I was told by Hank’s mom that I would always be welcome, and that she hoped to see me often. I was thrilled about it.
That October, 1933, Dr. Clement paid for my divorce from Clayton,
knowing otherwise I could not get it quickly. Clayton had returned to his
home in North Dakota. The divorce was final May 1,1934. Henry and I
were married May 3, 1934.
His parents gave us a beautiful wedding at their home at 345 N. E. 17th Street. I have always been very proud of the fact that Dr. Clement got up early on the morning of my wedding day and picked a big basket of Cecil Brunner roses from his own garden, took them to the florist and had my wedding bouquet made. It was so beautiful. They mixed white orange blossoms with those tiny pink roses and the effect was gorgeous. Not many girls can boast of their future father-in-law doing such a nice thing.
Mother Clement bought me a beautiful gold silk crepe dress for my wedding. She also bought me several complete outfits, shoes, hats, underwear and everything she thought I needed. My father, nor any of my family could afford to pay for any of it. Mother Clement was so gracious, explaining she was only doing what my own mom would have done, were she alive. I never, in my wildest dreams, had ever hoped to own such things.
I was proud of my dad when he gave me away at the wedding. He was a handsome old man. Remember, he was past fifty years old when I was born. After the ceremony, at which there were just close friends and members of both our families, we had a small but nice reception.
Henry’s new job prevented our taking time for a honeymoon, so we went straight to our new little apartment. It was only three blocks from Mother and Dad Clement’s. Mother had it all stocked with groceries, enough for a month.
The folks really did spoil me that first year. Mother had a full-time cook, a housekeeper and a woman who came in twice a week to do the washing and ironing. She always included my clothes with hers, and did lots of baking for me, or rather her cook did. She was always having us over for meals and did many nice things for us.
Late that year we moved into a small house at 696 N. Church Street. It was close to where Gladys and Donnie lived. She and Walter had divorced in 1934. We were so happy in our little cottage. Gladys was working at the State Legislature that year. So, Hank and I had Donnie with us most of the time. We also acquired a little red Persian kitten named Cookie. We were foolish over that cat and had lots of fun playing with her.
Henry was still playing for dances and we usually took Don with us, not only on Saturdays, but every place we went. Don was doing well with his singing and was a big hit with the Mickey Mouse Club in Salem. Zollie Volchok, Brad Collins and Hank all worked with him, helping him learn the right new songs. In 1938, he got to sing with the Jimmy Dorsey Band in Eugene at the University of Oregon. He was very popular and also made some much needed money now and then.
Hank and I would go all over the state to hear and see the big bands when they came around on their tours. Bands such as Duke Ellington, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Cab Calloway, Fred Waring, Ted Fiorita and the Mills Brothers were among those we saw. We took Don with us as often as we could. What a treat!
I could go on forever talking of things like that, but about that time we learned we were to be parents. We were overjoyed by the idea. Mother and Dad Clement, and my dad, too, were hoping we’d have a boy. Norris Clement, Hank’s older brother and his wife, Frances, had two little girls. So, everyone was very anxious for ours to be a boy.
I was quite ill all during my pregnancy, and really felt miserable, but got by with the thoughts of what I would have when it was all over. The day arrived at last and our dear little son, John Lucian, was born.
I stayed in the hospital a full two weeks. The cost was just $3.00 a day. I was there over Christmas. We had quite a celebration in my room; a tree, presents and all. Of course Dad, Dr. Clement, arranged it. Gladys and Donnie and the folks along with Hank made it very special. They even let us have the baby with us for awhile.
Shortly before John’s arrival, we had moved to a duplex at 1922 N. Commercial Street. It was near where my father lived. He had remarried in 1933. He visited me every day and was looking forward to “his baby’s baby.” But, the Lord had other plans and took my precious papa home to heaven on September 9, 1935.
It was hard on me losing him at that time, but I made it. John was born at 8:54 a.m. on December 19, 1935. I was very thrilled and excited over him. Mother and Dad insisted that I have a nurse to help me with John when I went home. I was so thin and they were worried over me. My brother Morgan’s wife, Edna, did that kind of work, so we hired her and also a girl to do the cooking and housework. They stayed two months. I was so glad when they were gone and we had John all to ourselves.
At the time John was born, Henry was a charter member of the newly organized Salem 20-30 Club. Johnny was the first baby born to a club member after it was organized. When the baby was only three weeks old, the club honored us with a lovely formal dinner dance. Henry bought me a beautiful black silk dress trimmed in pearls. It was so pretty.
We moved late in the spring to a little house on Nebraska St. Henry was working for Paulus Brothers Cannery in the office. He was also playing for dances twice a week, on Wednesday and Saturday. Then, Dr. Clement talked us into buying our own home. He made the payment down on a lovely house at 1905 S. Church Street. Donnie Edwards lived with us a lot attending Leslie Junior High School, just a block away.
Henry’s folks were so good to us. I had a live-in gal to help me with the work and baby sitting. John had the longest black eyelashes and beautiful blue eyes. Along with that gold, curly hair, he was so cute. The whole family was very proud of him. He was walking and talking by the time he was nine months old. He could put words into sentences by a year old. We thought he was a real prodigy.
A businessman in town, Mr. C. P. Bishop, who owned a men’s clothing store, was a great friend of Dad Clement’s. He loved picking John up in his arms and talking to him whenever we were in the store or saw him on the street. He was amazed that John could walk and talk at that early age.
Henry decided he had had enough of the cannery job, so he quit. He went to work for the Montgomery Ward Department Store, which had just opened in Salem. It looked very promising, but what a mistake! Within a month, due to hard times, Ward’s laid off over half of their work force, Hank being one of them.
Dad and Mother insisted on Henry, Johnny and I spending at least six weeks over at the beach. They rented us a nice private home at Seaside. We loved every minute of it, even though Johnny had a mild case of the measles while we were there.
When we got back from the beach in September, Henry went to
work for Salem Sand and Gravel Company as head bookkeeper.
On April 1, 1938, our next big thrill appeared. Another wonderful baby boy was born. He, too, had curly hair, but it was more red like his mom’s and his grandpa Clement’s. He was such a doll.
By this time, Dr. Clement was Chief of Staff at the Salem Hospital and I really got the royal treatment, private room and my own nurse so we could have John in the room for visits. My Doctor, Kenneth Powers, and two of my nurses were also redheads. Everyone was so nice to me and the children, on account of Grandpa, I’m sure.
Gladys was staying at the house, taking care of Johnny and the house, and also cooking for Henry. She brought John to see me every day. Dave was just fine for a few days and then trouble developed. He could not keep milk down. I took him home when he was eight days old, but had to take him back to the hospital within a few days. Dr. Backstrand operated on him and corrected the trouble. But, a short while later, he developed asthma and bronchitis. They gave him thirty shots of some serum and it cured him. He never had it again.
Around 1942, Hank became a Christian and decided to quit playing for dances. It was causing trouble between us. He was away from home so much and we were afraid we were headed for divorce. But, we loved each other very much. He quit both the dance playing and working for the Sand and Gravel Company. He was never sorry about it and neither was I. I prayed so hard that God would send us another child. Well, I was soon pregnant and happy.
That spring, Henry put in a large Victory Garden close to our house
and kept very busy at it. We canned so many vegetables and I was so proud of his efforts. Dad helped us financially.
Henry and I thought it best to move away from Salem, and with his dad’s help, he got a job with Portland General Electric Company in Portland. We sold our home in Salem and bought a big place out in the Irving-ton District of Portland. At that time, 1943, it was a lovely neighborhood. It has gone downhill since then.
Henry’s job at P. G. E. started on August 11th, 1943. The boys and I stayed on in Salem for a few weeks before the place in Portland was ready. Hank stayed with Gladys and her new husband, Dan Schmidt.
Our country was well into World War II. Don Edwards and his best friend, Norman Lamb, had joined the Air Force early in the spring of 1943. They were sent . to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas for their flight training. We sure missed him. That December, Gladys went by train to visit with Don in Texas. That is where she was when our darling third son was born.
I went back to Salem for Don’s birth. All three boys were born in the same hospital in Salem. Mother Clement went to the hospital with me. Henry worked Saturdays in those days and the baby arrived an hour or so before Hank got there. We had hoped for a girl, but as soon as we saw our new doll we were perfectly happy with him. His hair was dark and very straight, not at all like his big brothers. He was such a good baby, never any trouble.
John had finished second grade in Salem. He and Dave were both in school, John in third and Dave in kindergarten. Dave did riot like school very well. In as much as he was bored, he stayed home a lot. Both boys loved caring for their little brother. This helped me a lot.
We stayed in the lrvington district just one year. The streets were so busy, we were afraid for the boys’ safety. We started looking and soon found “our little farm” out at 10108 S. E. Powell Boulevard, a big old house on a half acre of land. There, we spent the next fifteen years. I think this was one of the happiest periods of our lives, raising our three wonderful sons. We soon became active in the Powellhurst Baptist Church.
In 1947, we decided to take all three boys and make a trip to California. We visited my sis, Maud, and her family. We had lots of fun sightseeing around Oakland and San Francisco. We took the boys to Flieshacker’s Don 1957 Amusement Park and the zoo there.
The boys, all in turn, graduated from Powellhurst Grade School. John and Dave went on to Franklin High School. In Dave’s sophomore year and John’s senior year, they transferred to Portland Christian High School. They wanted to be with many of their friends from church. John graduated from there and Dave went back to Franklin High for his junior and senior years. He graduated in 1956.
Both of the older boys now belonged to the Air National Guard. When John went into the Guard, he trained right in Portland and in Boise, Idaho. Dave was sent to Lackland Air Force Base in Texas for three months.
In 1957, Hank, Don and I made another trip to California. The other boys were working and did not want to go. Gladys went along as far as Madera, where Don and his wife, Midge, were then living. After a few days with them, Don, Hank and I went on to Disneyland, Marineland and Knott’s Berry Farm. I’ll never forget the good times we had.
Over the next thirteen years, Henry and I made many trips to California, the Grand Canyon, Reno, and Las Vegas to name a few. We especially loved our visits to Edna’s daughter, Alberta’s in Glendale.
John stayed out of school one year after high school, then attended Lewis and Clark College. He graduated in 1958. He liked school. He was in rally squad and really enjoyed his life.
Dave went to Lewis and Clark one semester and didn’t like it. He went to Northwest School of Commerce from January to June, 1957. He worked at the Portland Post Office awhile, then decided to go to Portland State College, one year. In the mean time, he passed civil service exams and went back to the Post Office in July, 1959. He is still working there. He has steadily moved up the ladder and is now a supervisor.
Don finished Powellhurst Grade School and went on to David Douglas High School. He played in the school marching band. He started playing cornet and trumpet when he was in the fourth grade, and always just loved it. Dad and I bought him a lovely trumpet after he had played cornet for a few years. He was very good and we were proud of him.
After college, John went to work for the Retail Credit Company and moved to the Dalles, Oregon. We missed him.
In 1959, we decided to sell the farm and move out to a new house at
18030 S. E. Caruthers Street, near Gresham. It was a hard thing to do,
leaving the old place. We had been so happy there. There were heartaches and tears. Don transferred to Centennial High School. He graduated from there in 1962 and then attended Seattle Pacific College.
In 1960, John married Sherry Regelin. She was a darling bit of a blonde. She and John seemed so well-suited. It was a lovely wedding. John had moved to Bend late in 1959, so he and Sherry lived there for a few months after their marriage. They were married on January 15th. That next November 17th, they presented us with the sweetest little girl you ever saw, Rene’ Susan. At last, I had my girl. We all worshipped her.
After graduating from Seattle Pacific, Don went to India for a two year stint with the Peace Corps.
We had moved out to King City, near Tigard. We had the house built and we loved every inch of it. We moved in in March of 1966.
John Junior was born on January 10, 1962, another darling boy. He was as blonde as Rene’, and a little roly-poly. We had them with us a lot. There was a big swimming pool at King City and the boys and Dad taught both children to swim.
Before Don went to India, he had spent a summer in New York City with a group of Christian young people from his Seattle church working with children in Harlem. Then, the summer before India, he went to the Virgin Islands for Peace Corps training. He was home only a few weeks before leaving for India. That was a long two years. I wrote so many letters to him I almost had writer’s cramp. He was good about writing, too. That helped, but we still missed him a lot and worried about the food and his health.
In 1968, David decided to take a trip around the world. He timed it so he would meet Don in Bombay, India when his time was up there. This accomplished, they traveled through the Orient together and then headed for Hawaii. There, Dad and I, John and Sherry and Rene’ and Johnny met them! It was a glorious family reunion. We stayed there eight days. I could never really express the joy we had in all of us being together. The islands were all we had hoped they would be, just like a fairyland.
When we arrived back in Portland, we were met by friends and family, and then a big party at our home in King City. Our neighbors, Tom and Ida Sowersby, and my sister, Gladys, had arranged it all.
Dad had bought himself a Datsun pickup in 1967. In 1968, he bought me a beautiful gold and black Camaro. I was so proud of it. Don was very impressed with it.
After a few weeks rest, Don accepted a job teaching in Cleveland, Ohio. He heard of it from a fellow SPC friend. It was with the Cleveland Board of Education. I hated to see him leave again. He did fly home for Christmas with us that year, 1968, and again in April, 1969 for four days.
That late summer, Don met and married Diane Cliffe, an Ohio girl. We wanted to go back for the wedding, but they planned on coming to Oregon for their honeymoon. We decided to wait and have a reception for them so the whole family could greet them. Diane was so cute. We all liked her right away.
The reception turned out fine. They received so many gifts we had to have them packed and sent back home. There was no room in their little Datsun roadster. The time passed so quickly, but we enjoyed them so much.
Dave made a trip with a friend of his to Hawaii in the spring of 1971. He soon surprised us all with the news of his being in love and plans for marriage to Bonnie Baker. She was a young woman with two little boys from a previous marriage, Bradley and Brian. We were so happy for both of them. They were married on July 31, 1971. Their wedding was in the First Baptist Church in Vancouver, Washington. We had a large reception for them afterward in our home at King City. It was unbelievable, the number of people who came, family, plus dozens of people from the Post Office. They, like Diane and Don, got many lovely gifts. They went to California for their honeymoon.
Now, my boys are all married and are very happy. Hank and I feel so lucky that we now have three daughters, too. I hope they will like me.
We are beginning to look forward to our retirement in January of 1974. We have decided to sell out in King City and move back to Salem.
Henry and I have made so many great trips all around the Northwest, Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah and Hawaii. It would take too long to tell of all this.
On July 10, 1971, Don called us with the news we had a new red-headed grandson, Matthew David. We were happy for him and Diane. I made a quick trip back to Cleveland to see them in August. The three of them flew out to Oregon to see us in 1972.
Our second granddaughter was born on September 8, 1970 to John and Sherry. Her name was Leslie Ann. She had dark hair and bright blue eyes, pretty as everything.
Dave and Bonnie had a little boy, David Christopher, November 8, 1972. Such a cutie. David had adopted Bradley and Brian, so we were really blessed with grandchildren. Then, to top it all off, they adopted another boy, Michael Mortenson. Now we had eight grandchildren, quite a bunch. We love them and are happy with them all.
in the fall of 1973, we bought a mobile home and rented a place for
it at Southbrook Mobile Homes in southeast Salem. We quickly sold our
King City home and moved just as soon as Hank retired from P. G. E., after
thirty-one years with them, on February 1,1974. We moved to Salem on February 2nd.
That spring, we traded my little Camaro in and bought a Chevy Nova. It had more room for traveling and we put air conditioning in it. In May, we made a trip to Hawaii to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. When we got home, we packed the new car and went back to Ohio to visit Diane, Don and Matt. We left Salem on July 5, 1974. We had a glorious trip, stopping in Nashville on our way. It was so hot we didn’t get to see very much. The heat made it hard for Hank to breathe, so we headed on for Cleveland. We got there late on a Sunday night. Don and Matt were waiting for us. Diane was at work, but came home soon. While in Cleveland, we took a side-trip to Niagara Falls. It was a warm, loving time. We hated to tell them goodbye.
After a wonderful week, we packed up and started back to Oregon. We took the northern route. We saw so many sights, including Mount Rushmore. We had lots of fun. We bought enough souvenirs to start a junk shop. We stopped in Boise and saw Robbie and her family.
We really like our mobile home. It is a new way of living. There is a large swimming pool at the park. We will enjoy it.
In November of 1974, Thanksgiving week, I had to have a partial mastectomy of my left breast. I had discovered a small lump and immediately went to see Doctor Craig. He sent me to Dr. Richard Sloop. He did a fine job of allaying my fears and I got along very well after the operation. Dr. Sloop was a fine surgeon.
Then, in January of 1976, it was felt necessary to remove the right breast, too. I had found another lump. Although it was benign, Dr. Sloop felt that in time it would become cancerous.
I have never regretted my decision to have both of the operations. It took away the element of fear. I was fortunate in not having to go through the rigor of cobalt or chemotherapy treatments. It was not necessary in my case. It wasn’t long before I was back in the mainstream of life again. The Lord was so good to me, and so were the boys and Henry.
The summer of 1975, my dear sis, Happy (Gladys), suffered a severe stroke. She passed away in October. Oh, how I missed her. We had looked forward to living together in the same town again.
Henry and I made several trips to Hawaii in the next few years. He loved it over there. Even then, his emphysema was bothering him a lot. The trade winds over the islands made it easier for him to breathe. He was steadily growing worse. He had to give up his swimming and walks.
In June of 1979, he just forced himself to fly back to Cleveland to see Don and his family. He really was in a bad way, but he stood the trip just fine and we enjoyed ourselves very much. We flew out of Portland on June 18th. We had stayed with Bonnie and Dave the night before so we would not have to get up so early to drive up from Salem. Don, Diane and Matt did everything to show both Dad and I a good time. They succeeded.
After we returned home on June 25th, Hank just seemed to give up, as if he knew he did not have long to live. He always enjoyed having both John and Dave come and visit with him. I am sure they had many little private talks that the boys will always remember.
Henry spent lots of time talking to me and giving advice as to how I should face life after he was gone. I did not want to talk about his leaving me. I realize now that those special talks with him helped me in the months to come.
The year of 1979 was a miserable one for Henry. It was hard for him to get around. He had to use a wheelchair and walker most of the time. When we were in Ohio, Don had rented a wheel chair for his dad and we used it in going out to the restaurants. That way, he wasn’t too tired or out of breath to eat.
In September of 1979, John took him to the Oregon State Fair. John and Don Edwards were in charge of the publicity and advertising for the fair. They were able to put Dad and I right up on the stage during the big shows. We made friends with Clay and Sally Hart from the Lawrence Welk Show. We had always been so fond of them and enjoyed meeting them. We also met briefly a group of musicians called The Shoppe. There were five of them. They played good old country and western songs. We loved it.
1980, was a tough year, too. Henry had many falls and would have
to get someone to help me get him up. I felt so sorry for him and so useless in not being able to do more for him. I never left him alone except for a few moments at a time. If I had to be away, I hired a nurse, who lived here in the park to stay with him. She was very good in taking care of him and also a good friend.
When the fair rolled around again, it was impossible for Henry to go out for any of the shows. The Shoppe was appearing there again. When John told them Dad could not come to the fair, they asked if they could come out to our house to see him. So, John suggested I make some apple pies and chocolate chip cookies to serve to them. John brought them out and what a good time we had. They liked Hank, and he, them. They had a great visit. This was on Thursday. The Lord took Henry home less than a week later, on Wednesday, September 3rd, 1980.
Henry had been in the hospital several times during the year to try and get relief from the emphysema. On the night of August 30th, he fell again. I could not move him at all. It was around midnight. I called John at 1 am. He came right out and lifted his dad back into his bed. John decided to stay all night, in case that I would need him. He called to tell Sherry what he was going to do. Sherry insisted that we call ahead to the doctor and take Hank to the emergency room at the hospital in case he might have had a stroke. We took him in our car. We had to leave him there so they could make tests. We went back early on Sunday morning, but did not find out much. They still had other tests to make and said we should come back in the late afternoon.
The fair was still on, and John was very busy. Henry talked to us and really seemed pretty good. He was in a four bed ward. I saw him again that night. When John and I went back on Monday, Hank was in a private room. Dr. Craig said we should call the other boys. We did. Dave came right down. Don could not get away so quickly, but said to keep in close touch. We tried to.
Don had been out in 1978 when Dad had a bad spell. Di and Matt came with him. That time, he came out of it. As it cost so much for airfare, we were cautious about them dashing out again.
However, Tuesday, September 2nd, Dr. Craig said Dad could not last but a few hours. Not enough time for Don’s and Rene’ to get here. Rene’ was then living in Cleveland. She had been there since April 3rd. John, Dave and I hovered over him, trying to show him how much we loved him.
Edith LaBorde, Hank’s sister, and I were with him all day on Tuesday. He only knew us once in awhile. He hung on to my left hand, turning my wedding ring round and round on my finger. I will always feel that special touch of his dear hand.
By evening, John and Dave joined me. Edie went home. Hank seemed to be in a coma. The doctor told us it would be only a few hours. Around 10 pm, Dr. Craig, John, Dave and I all told him goodbye, each in our own way. We kissed him, the boys and I, and were going out the door. went back one more time, held him, kissed him and whispered to him, “I love you, Sweetheart.” And, to our surprise, he said very clearly, “I love you, too, Honey.” We all heard him. What a comfort that was for me. He just seemed to go to sleep so peacefully.
Dave drove home that night to get some clothes. I stayed alone.
Early the next morning, Wednesday, September 3, 1980, the hospital called John and said for us to get there in a hurry. He was in a deep coma by then. Bill Craig said he could be like that for hours and urged John to bring me home for awhile. We came home, and John left for a little while. At 1:20 pm, Bill called and said he had just been with Hank and that he had gone to his Heavenly Home.
In one way it was a relief to know he was not now suffering. But, oh the loneliness was awful. I called John’s house. Johnny Jr. came right out. John came in a few minutes. He was so sorry he was not here when Dr. Craig called.
Right away, he called Don in Cleveland, Dave and Bonnie and the rest of the family. It was quite a chore for him. It was good to have him to lean on and Dave, too. I wanted Donnie so much. They were here, though, as soon as possible, and that helped a lot.
I felt numb inside and out for several weeks and can’t recall very much of what happened at all. Rene’ flew out with Don, Diane and Matt. I can’t remember doing any cooking or housekeeping. I guess Diane and Don did it. It was an awful time for all of us, but especially for me.
My main reason for living was gone. We had 46 1/2 wonderful years together, and I have books and books of memories to fall back on.
An Autobiography of
Mildred L. Clement
Written 1979 -1981
Several years ago, my boys indicated how much they would appreciate my writing down some of the stories and happenings of my life, since my early childhood, things they have heard me tell and that they would like to have the grandchildren know about. On the following pages, I shall attempt to do just that.
Part I: 1907-1933
I was born in Greer County, Oklahoma, near the small town of Granite, in a large old farmhouse surrounded by cotton fields. I was the thirteenth child of Sarah Ellen, and William Ryla Cross. Preceding me were seven brothers and five sisters.
My mother was almost forty-eight years old, and my father, just past fifty when I was born.My papa raised cotton for a living. So there would always be food for his big family, he also raised cattle, hogs, chickens and vegetables. My brothers, Burt and Al, and my sister Minnie were all married before I was born, and sister Maud, soon after.

Minnie’s husband, Robert Ligon, died when their son Elwood was only two years old. Elwood was four days younger than my brother Melvin. Min was very young and moved back home with our folks so they could be of help to her. Many times she would find work in nearby towns and would have to leave Elwood in their care. Mama and Papa raised him along with my three brothers. They were well known as the four little Cross boys. They had such fun growing up together and, oh the mischief they managed to get into. It was great to them to play Indians and cowboys. They would try riding the calves around the big cow lot. I am sure they received many bruises and were black and blue from falling off and also from Papa’s chastisement. He forbid them to ride the calves. But boys will be boys and they would take a chance and do it anyway. They thought the fun was worth it.
The whole family helped with the many chores around the farm. And, of course they all picked cotton when it was ready in the early fall.
Mama also went out to work in the fields after she was through with the house chores. She would take me with her. Cotton was picked and put into long canvas sacks held onto their shoulder with a strap and pulled up and down the cotton rows. At the end of the rows would be scales where the cotton was weighed and recorded. It was emptied into specially built wagons and hauled to the big cotton gin, nearby. There, the seeds were removed and the cotton packed and baled, ready for shipping all over the country to the big mills to be spun into thread and then woven into cloth of all kinds. When Mama took me out to the fields with her, different ones of the family, usually one of my brothers, would put me on the end of their sack and pull me up and down the rows with them. What fun for me!About once a month, the whole family would go into town to buy supplies, food, shoes and clothing. Papa would park our big wagon in the towns wagon lot. There was always one in back of the business district of each small town. This trip was always a chance for friends, neighbors, and relatives to get together for visiting and an exchange of news and gossipy tidbits. Usually everyone brought lunches from home which would be shared and eaten from the wagons out in the wagon lot. Before going home, Papa would usually treat all of our own family to a big bowl of chiIi, Texas-style, no beans, at my uncle Jim Christy’s restaurant.
People came from miles around to buy this chili, it was so good. Uncle Jim was married to my Papa’s sister, Annie.When Papa sold his cotton, he would pay each of the children his or her share of the “Pickin’ Money.” I was too young to earn any money, but Papa and all the rest of my brothers and sisters would give me all of the pennies, or coppers, as most people called them in those days. My hair was a ‘‘new copper’’ color and stayed that way until I was a grown woman. I kept my coppers in an old baking powder can. When it was full, or time to go to town, I was allowed to spend it on special treats such as stick candy or chewing gum. By the way, gum in those days was round, about the size of a dollar. It came five pieces to a box. The box was a little round tin one, usually a light purple in color with a lid. No gum since then has ever tasted so good.
In those days, along about 1910, Brush Arbor, or Protracted Church Meetings, were very popular. My family usually attended at least two a year. They would take plenty of food and sleeping things along, as did everyone else for miles around, and spend from three to five days in these big camp outs. Everyone ate together at big long tables. And, there were make-shift buildings to sleep in, usually just big roofs and open on the sides.
The story was always told of how my brother, Morgan, and cousin, Clifford Cross, would always take me around with them the first day or so to meet all of the pretty young ladies. The girls would “oh and ah” over the cute little red-haired girl they had with them.
In other words, they used me for bait. As soon as they had looked all the gals over and made their choice, it was back to Mama for me. Needless to say, I was just a bit spoiled over all this attention. But, being the baby of such a big family, I was a spoiled brat, anyway.The older boys in our family had their own transportation, horses and buggies. My sister, Edna, was old enough to date, and being a very pretty girl had all the boyfriends she could handle.
The rest of us traveled in Dad and Mom’s big lovely black Surrey. Yes, it had a fringe all the way around the top. It also had Ising Glass (plastic) curtains which could be lowered to protect us from the weather.Sunday was usually an all day affair at the church, because the distance was too great to make the trip twice in one day. So again, lunches were packed and eaten in or near the church. This was mostly in the fall and winter. In the summer, the relatives, Papa’s sisters and brothers, all lived within a few miles of one another, so all the families would get together every few weeks for Sunday dinners. I can see in my mind yet all the great amounts of food put on the tables. But of course, the children always had to wait until the grownups had finished their dinner before we were allowed to come into the dining room to eat.
One time when the clan had all gathered at our home, we children were all playing out in the front yard, waiting until mealtime. There were Gladys, Woodford, Elva, Willene, Raymond, besides cousins whose names I can’t recall. Anyway, I fell into the middle of a large red ant den! I was severely bitten all over before the older kids pulled me off. They called for help. My Uncle Dan’s wife, Aunt Georgie, rushed around and filled a big tub with water and poured a whole bottle of bluing bleach into it, then proceeded to undress me and dunk me into the blue, blue water. It immediately stopped the horrible itching and the swelling. I was one blue little gal, but I recovered nicely after a few days.
This Aunt Georgie was quite a gal. None of the kids liked her ‘cause she was always so cross and cranky. I scared her most to death one day when the women of the family were all at our house tying a quilt. My papa and his brother, Uncle Charlie, had me sneak in where they were working and toss a horny toad right in the middle of it. You should have heard the screams. Aunt Georgie was so mad she was really going to blister me. But, Papa was waiting just outside the door and scooped me up in his arms and took me out to the barn where he let me play in the corn crib as a reward for playing the joke for him. After it was all over, most of the women just laughed. But, not Aunt Georgie. She never did get over it. It was fun. I guess I needed spanking, but with my papa around, no spanking for me, ever! I was his little doll.
It was late in 1910 or early 1911 I saw my first automobile.
It came chugging down the road in front of our house making a lot of noise. Gladys and I were so scared. We actually ran and hid. We could not imagine what kind of monster it was.Later on in the year, we also saw our first elephant. It had escaped from a circus in a nearby town. Two men from the circus had found it and were leading it back. Whew! What an exciting year for this little redhead of the Cross clan, which she was never to forget.
I can remember a big cyclone, too.
You could always see them in the sky when they were still miles away. They looked like big black funnel clouds. When Mama would see them coming she would gather us children all together in the storm cellar. Papa and the boys hurried in from the fields, or wherever they were working, and joined us in the cellar until the cyclone passed on. The cellar was a big room dug out underground and well shored up with heavy timbers. Mama kept it stocked with plenty of supplies. As far as I can remember, we were never hit, and felt lucky.In 1911, I saw my first telephone, too. It was a big long black box on the wall, having a crank on the side which was used to get the operator, who was called “Central.”
She would then connect you with whoever you were trying to reach. It was another big mystery for a child to try and figure out.My cousin, Dr. Garvin Cross, had it installed in his parents’ home after he moved to Mangum so he could keep in close touch with them, Aunt George and Uncle Dan. They were not too well. We all thought it funny because Uncle Dan would not answer the phone until he had combed his hair very nicely, seeming to think he could be seen over the phone.
Garvin was a fine doctor and also very handsome. He was married with a lovely wife and two kids. He worked in the hospital in Mangum. A nurse there fell in love with him and when he refused to leave his family for her, she secretly poisoned him. His death went unsolved, but a few years later, the nurse left a note confessing to killing him and then took her own life.
Papa was having a bad time trying to make a living on our once prosperous farm.
All of a sudden, nothing would grow. He and the older boys at home, Ed and Morgan, talked it over and decided the two boys would go out west to Washington state and see how things looked, work-wise. Dad and Mom had lived out there in their young married days, in 1887 and 1888.
My sister, Maud, was born there in January of 1888. But at that time, before the big mills, it was hard to make a living there, too, and they had moved back to Texas, staying in Texas and New Mexico until early 1904. They then moved to Oklahoma.Well, the two boys did go out to Kelso, Washington.
They found plenty of work and came back to Oklahoma to help Papa arrange to move the rest of the family out there. The family all was very excited over the move. We all went, except for Minnie and Elwood and the ones that were married. We kids enjoyed the trip on the train and Dad and Mama had high hopes for the future.Minnie was working in a big Harvey Girl restaurant and making a good living for herself and Elwood.
I don’t recall very much of the trip West, except the eating and sleeping. Everyone had to furnish their own food. After we ran out of what we started out with, Dad and the boys would have to stop off in a hurry at some of the train stops and buy food.

We arrived in Kelso tired and weary. But, Ed and Morgan, who had preceded us by a few weeks, had rented and furnished a house for us. We were always optimistic and so happy to be a family again. Dad and the boys all got good jobs at a big shingle mill. Even Lee, who was 17 or 18, found different jobs and, all in all, we got along fine. Edna went to work as a maid at the Washington Hotel. She liked it much better than picking cotton. It wasn’t long before Min and Elwood came out, too. They missed the family too much. Min got a job at the hotel with Edna.
The shingle mill, McClane’s, was built right on the water of the Cowiitz River. The boys were so excited living so close to the water. My papa had forbidden them to play near it and especially on the rafts of logs there, awaiting to be made into lumber and shingles. It was very dangerous, for it would be so easy for them to slide off the logs and get hurt. Well, that’s just what happened. They disobeyed Papa and played on the logs. Melvin slid off scraping his neck on a log, getting a big cedar sliver in his throat. The other boys were scared of the punishment they thought they would get from Papa, and did not tell the folks about it. A few days later, Melvin became very ill and was taken to a doctor, who said he had a bad case of blood poisoning. This doctor used an untested serum on Melvin and in doing so, drove the poison ail over his body. His leg joints stiffened. He could not walk properly. Every so often he would break out in absesses and boils which were very painful. He suffered so much for the next ten years.
About this time, Morgan married Edna Bloyd. I can’t recall much about it. It was in 1913.
Melvin did learn to walk with a cane, but was never entirely free from pain. The folks became very discouraged. They finally decided to move back to Oklahoma and the drier climate.
We did go back, and what a mistake that was. It did not help in the least. The work situation was worse than ever. After a few months, it was back to Kelso.
By this time, Morgan and Edna were parents of a baby boy, named Lonnie Wendell.
Gladys, Homer and I were all going to school in Kelso and had many friends.
Elwood married when he was quite young to Anna Lasene. In 1917, they had a little girl, Robbie Maxine. From the very first, I was crazy about her and loved to take care of her. Minnie was so fond of this, her first grandchild.
Edna and Min were still working at the hotel when they both got jobs on one of the big passenger boats, the Joseph Kellogg. They worked in the dining room and had their own sleeping rooms on the boat. The boat was a big old stern wheeler that hauled passengers and freight all up and down the river between Portland and Kelso.
Gladys and I were allowed to be with the girls a lot and made many trips with them. The food was great. There was always a big wooden barrel of cookies in the galley, as the kitchen was called. We could always help ourselves.
I always felt very close to Minnie. She was just a second mother to me. Mama was so busy taking care of Melvin. She was so devoted to him, trying to make his life more comfortable.
Both Minnie and Edna eventually married men that also worked on the boat; Edna, Albert Olsen and Min, Edward Johnson Morgan. Ed soon quit the boat and he and Minnie moved to Salem, Oregon. Edna and Al moved to Portland.
I’ll never forget those wonderful trips on the old Kellogg, going up and down that Cowlitz River. It seemed like such a big river then and it really was not. The boat was an old paddle wheeler and very fascinating to a young child who possessed a very vivid imagination.
Our family perhaps was called poor in worldly goods, but we were also about the happiest big family around, and that really was what counted. Mama kept us all clean and well fed, even though with plain food.
Papa bought Gladys and I a piano when I was ten years old. He was so fond of all kinds of music and was quite a fiddle player, himself. He entertained us many winter nights with playing and singing of old cowboy songs; many he had composed himself. We took lessons for several months.
World War I started in Europe and soon our United States was drawn into it. All of the young men were being called into service. Lee was drafted and sent to Fort Lewis, Washington on June 18, 1918. It was only a few weeks until he was sent overseas.
The only news we could get of the war came strictly from the newspapers out of Portland, Oregon. The papers arrived at the train station about five in the evening. The whole town seemed to congregate there to get the papers as soon as they arrived. The casualty lists were published each day and everyone would scan through them. They were always thankful if their loved ones’ names did not show up. Edna, Morgan’s wife, had a brother killed over there. Lee was hit by poison mustard gas and was blind for several weeks. He was soon sent home. That was in May of 1919. By that time, the family had moved to Salem, Oregon.
Ed and Morgan moved our household goods from Kelso to Salem in two big wagons. It took them almost three days. Homer helped them. Melvin stayed in Portland with Edna and Al until we got settled. Papa, mama, Gladys and I came on the train. The day we arrived in Salem was March 7, 1919. We went to Minnie and Ed’s and stayed there until our things arrived. Minnie had found a house for us at 830 S. E. 14th St.
During my childhood in Kelso, I had lots of fun. My best friends were usually boys because I loved to play baseball and was pretty good at pitching, so they always let me play. They tell me I was a tough little cookie and could hold my own with anyone.
Our movie house was a short distance from our house. It changed pictures every night and only cost ten cents. They held a talent show each week. Kids would sing, play an instrument or recite poetry. I would win most every week. My sister, Edna, was very musical and taught me a lot of cute little songs and also taught me a lot in ways of presenting them. We would get a dollar if we won on Friday nights, and $5.00 if we won again at the end of the month. My papa was very proud of me and encouraged me to become a singer, but that wasn’t easy to do in those days.
After we moved to Salem, Papa, Ed and Homer all got work at the Spaulding Lumber MilI, and Lee too, when he came home from the war. We were a close, happy family again. Gladys and I went to the old Yew Park School the rest of the year. Not long after this, both Burt and Morgan moved to Salem, too. Burt and Mollie both worked at the woolen mill. Morgan worked on a big dairy farm near Gervais, Oregon.
Dad and the other boys decided they wanted to start farming again, so we found a nice place out in the Middle Grove district. Gladys and I loved going to a country school for the first time. Just before we moved to the country, the house we were living in caught fire one evening at supper time. All of the new school clothes Gladys and I had bought were burned, but most everything else was saved. It seemed a tragedy to us. But, neighbors and friends pitched in and helped us and we made it just fine.
Melvin’s health was growing worse. He suffered so much and was a great care and such a burden for my mother. Never once did she complain, but always did her best for him.
Gladys and I had to walk three miles to school. Many times some of our boyfriends would ride out to meet us on their bikes and give us rides on the handlebars. What fun!
That winter of 1921, we were snowed in, two or three feet deep, with drifts much higher. Everything came to a stop. We were growing short of food supplies and medicine for Mel. Lee and Gladys decided to walk into Salem, seven miles away, to bring back as much as they could. They made it just fine, stayed all night with Minnie and came back the next day. Someone gave them a ride most of the way back.
In the fall of 1921, we moved back to Salem. Gladys and I went to Grant Junior High School. Gladys quit school after that year. She had been late starting to school and felt she was too old. I went on to Washington Junior High. I made lots of friends, many of whom I still have. After I finished the eighth grade, I, too, quit school. I wanted to find a job, but of course, I was too young. The main reason I quit school, I must admit, was for lack of nice clothes. I can see now what a stupid excuse it was. No matter what, I should have stayed with it.
In September of 1922, Lee and Gladys both got married. Lee, to Edith Swanson and Gladys, to Walter Edwards. They had a double wedding. Edith and Gladys had been good friends ever since we moved to Salem. Edith lived close to Minnie and Ed. Lee and Walter worked at the Salem Fire Department.
Later that fall, Papa, Mama, Ed, Melvin and I moved to a rented farm out in the Waldo Hills. It was a beautiful place, very well kept and partially furnished, including a huge library with hundreds of good books. The owners just wanted to rent it for two years and were very generous with what they charged for rent. I think I really furthered my education by reading most of the books.
Dad and Ed found the work too much for the two of them, so Lee left his job at the Fire Department. He and Edith moved out with us. There was plenty of room for us all. We had some great times after the day’s work and supper was over. We, all of us, would gather around a big table and play an old card game called Rook. Oh, what a joyous time of my life this was. The fireplace in the living room was huge. It would take three foot logs and was beautiful. Almost every night, Ed would pop big pans of corn over this fire.
They had left a piano at the house and I still had my own. Edith and I had great times playing them. We practiced mostly hymns.
Speaking of my reading the library that winter, some books were pretty deep for me, but my brother, Ed, was a real brainy guy and he, along with my brilliant mother, helped me to understand most of what I read. Ed had gone to college in Texas long ago.
In March of 1923, Mother had to go to Portland to be with my sis, Edna, who was expecting her first child in April. She was having a rough time and needed Mom. Alberta was born on April 26, 1923, a doll!
When Mom went to Portland, I had to take over the household duties, including the cooking, washing and taking care of Melvin. I had to do all of the bread and pastry baking. Edith helped all she could, but by this time she too was expecting a child and did not feel well. I had to wash clothes on a washboard and hang it all to dry. It was great training for me, I’m sure, but I thought it a bit much at the time. My dad was so good to help out as this following story will prove.
I had to bake bread at least three times a week. I was only just past fifteen years old and all of this was quite a chore for one so young. This is the incident that really stands out. Dad and the boys had been in for lunch and gone back to their wood cutting. I put my bread on to rise in a nice warm place, and away Edith and I went for our short walk. A way back in the woods we found an old abandoned house with a yard full of glorious yellow daffodils in full bloom. We walked and walked, came back by the house and flowers, and decided to take just a few home with us. We picked armfuls of them, completely forgetting time, and the bread dough on the back of the stove at home. We finally did get home to find bread dough alt over the place. About that time, Dad walked in and saw the mess. Of course, I was crying. He didn’t scold at all, but just helped to get it into the pans. Later on when it was baked, it really turned out quite well. The story was told for years and got a little worse with each telling. Dad realty got a big kick out of our “daffodil walk.”
There were two very gentle horses on the farm, and Edith and I would put bridles on them and ride all over the farm bareback. There was a big hill close by with three big oak trees at the top. We would ride up there and look out over the Willamette Valley. What carefree days those were. I’ve been lots of places, but nothing was more beautiful than our “Oak Tree Hill.”
Melvin came back from Portland, and then I had to spend most of the time close to the house. Mother came home after Alberta’s birth, and I went to Portland to help Edna.
Melvin was almost always in a good humor, never complained. We all loved him very much. He was so brave and a good Christian young man.
Late that summer, Dad, Mom, Ed, Melvin and I moved back into Salem, to 1560 Hines Street. Dad and Ed could not find work, and we had a pretty hard time making a go of it. Lee and Edith moved to St. Helen’s, Oregon, where Laurine was born October 12, 1923. They did not stay there long, but moved back to Salem, out in the Fruitland district. They lived out on the old Foster place with Gladys and Walt for a while, also.
Morgans were living nearby in the Pratum district. We all went to the Methodist Church in Pratum, for by this time we had moved just down the road from Lee’s and Morgan’s, too.
This was a sweet time of my life. I started dating steady a fine young man, Otto Kleen. What a wonderful summer.
Gladys and Walter had moved to a farm in Polk County where their baby boy, Donald Leroy, was born on June 13th, 1924. Gladys and I
were such pals and always very close, so I felt as if little Donnie Lee was mine, too. And, my sis never wanted for a baby sitter. I simply adored him.
In August, I had scarlet fever in a bad way, such high fever and trouble with my ears. While I was still very ill Melvin had a bad spell and died on August the twenty-seventh. It was so sad and unreal to me because of my illness. Minnie came from St. Helen’s and, as soon as I was able, she took me home with her. I only weighed eighty pounds, and the family was very worried. I had a good time in St. Helen’s, lots of friends, and soon I became my old self.
Some time later on, we moved dawn to Arcata, California, where Maud and her family lived. Ed found a summer job, and I, along with Maud’s girl, Oleta, went to work thinning carrots. Arcata was a little town close to the beach. We young people were always having beach parties at good old Clam Beach.
After Ed’s job was finished, we came back to Salem. We moved in with Minnie and Ed until we could find a place of our own.
Well, again the house on Hines street was vacant and we moved into it. I started chumming with Nettie Hutcheon, who only lived a block away. We became lifetime friends. We both had red hair and had lots of fun dressing alike. She was working in her father’s paint store and would buy the material and I would do the sewing and make our dresses alike. We always looked cute. Nettie would paint our shoes to match our dresses. Quite a deal! We had lots of dates and lots of boyfriends.
That fall and winter brought a big change in my life. First, I met a nice young man, Clayton Hamilton, the night the old Cherry City Flour Mill burned. Everyone in town could see the fire and a lot of us went down as close as we could. Clayton was from North Dakota, visiting his grandparents in Salem. We dated all that fall and Winter and into the spring.
My mother and I had worked at the cannery and really did quite well, money-wise. But she complained of not feeling well. In March of 1929, she suffered a bad gallstone attack. We took her to the hospital where she was operated on, on March 1st. She never recovered from it and went home to the Lord on March 12,1929.
I wanted to go ahead and keep house for Dad and Ed, but they would not hear of it. They went to live with Lee and Edith, and I, to Gladys and Walt’s.
Ed never married. He devoted his life to taking care of Mom and Dad. I was happy being at Gladys’ on account of little Donnie. He was five years old then and really helped me over the rough spots. What a blessing.
On November 28. 1929, Clayton and I were married at the First Baptist Church in Salem. We had a good three years together. He worked at the old Linen Mills in Salem. During a shut-down at the mill, we bought a new 1931 Ford Roadster, a convertible, and drove back to North Dakota to visit his parents. They were the Postmasters of Cavalier, North Dakota and very fine people.
It was spring-like in Oregon, but still very much winter in the Midwest. We left Salem on a beautiful, sunny day, March 10, 1931. Our cute little car was very comfortable. None of the cars had heaters, but we were nice and warm. The car had nice plastic curtains that kept the cold out.
We would drive from about nine to three each day to avoid being out on the highway after dark, in case we’d have trouble, but we had none. We stayed in lovely hotels and ate all our meals in good restaurants, really first class all the way. We really enjoyed every minute of it. It was fifty-five degrees below zero all the way across Wyoming, but none of it bothered us.
We stopped in Omaha, Nebraska for a few days visit with Clayton’s brother, Dick. He was single and about the nicest young man I ever met. He decided to take two weeks off and go on up to Cavalier with us. We were all in our early twenties. Life seemed so wonderful and ready for living. We got the most out of it we could.
We arrived in Cavalier amid a big snow storm, three feet deep.
Hamilton’s had a lovely, large home which made quite an impression on me. Not realizing how cold North Dakota was going to be, I had not taken warm enough clothes. Clayton’s mother, a very charming, sweet lady, immediately took me on a big shopping spree. She bought me all kinds of clothes, some lovely knit dresses, suits, boots and a beautiful winter coat. I felt like Cinderella. We all enjoyed our stay together.
One Saturday night, the two boys and I, along with some of their friends drove about fifty miles to a highly advertised dance. It was a popular new band who everyone was raving about. It was a somebody and his five piece jazz band. They were good. I found out in later years that it was Lawrence Welk!
Clayton and I stayed on in North Dakota after Dick went back to Omaha. I hated to see him leave. He was such a loving, warm person. We stayed another few days with him on our way back home to Salem.
We returned to Salem rather reluctantly for we had enjoyed North Dakota so much. But, I missed Donnie Lee Edwards and wanted to get back to him and Gladys.
Coming back to Salem, we started running around with a rather wild crowd of young people, both married and singles. It was in the midst of the big Depression. We both became interested in other people, and finally decided to call it quits. We both insisted we still loved each other and that we always would. We just did not know how to handle our problems, not enough money, too much flattery and attention from others. We separated in September of 1932.
That next March, I met the true love of my life, Henry Clement. After filing for divorce from Clayton in October of 1933, I married Henry on May 3,1934.
Clayton returned to North Dakota and, after several years, married a lady ten years his senior. They were happily married until his death of cancer in 1956.
Hank’s and my life together was beautiful and we were blessed with three handsome sons. It is a story all its own.
Part II: 1934-1981
In September of 1928, the boy who lived next door to my family and I at 1560 Hines Street in Salem introduced me to his best friend, Hank Clement. Hank came driving up in his little Model T Roadster to see Jimmy and told him he’d like to meet the little redhead next door. So, Jim brought him over. I thought he was very nice, but at the time felt that there was too much difference in our backgrounds for us to ever become better acquainted.
His father was the well known Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist, Dr. L. 0. Clement. His mother was a very prominent society lady, president of the American Association of University Women, and also in various other clubs including the Salem Women’s Club and the Medical Auxiliary. I never dreamed how precious they would one day be to me. My family being poor made them seem wealthy to me. They lived in one of Salem’s most beautiful homes on North Capital Street.
At the time, I was dating several boys, including a star football player from Silverton, Oregon, and also Clayton Hamilton, who I later married.
That Christmas of 1928, Hank’s family had moved into a lovely new house at 345 17th St. Hank was home from college, Oregon State, and his mother had a big party for him and his friends. This was their first Christmas in the new house. One of Hank’s friends, Dick Weatherford, a student at Willamette University, invited me as his date to Hank’s party. I went and had a lovely time. It was just like a fairytale to me. I had never been to such a lovely place. Everyone treated me great. I didn’t get much chance to get to know Hank that night because he was kept busy playing the piano so the rest could dance.
I really felt like Cinderella. When I got home, I told Mom about how lovely it had been. There were young people there from all the elite families, but they were very friendly and treated me as if I was one of them. My date was partly responsible for this, as he was very well liked. I can remember saying to my mom that I hoped that someday I would find someone like Hank Clement to spend the rest of my life with. Her answer to me was, “Don’t worry about it, Baby. Mama will pray about it, and everything would be okay.” What a wonderful mother.
I settled down into going with just one fellow, Clayton. That next spring, March 12th, my mother died after her gallstone operation. It was very hard on the whole family to lose Mom. Dad and Ed did not want to keep up our home, so they went to live with Lee and Edith, and I, to Gladys and Walt’s.
In November, 1929, Clayton Hamilton and I were married on Thanksgiving Day. Clayton and I were divorced in 1933, although we remained friends until his death in 1956.
After a while on my own, I moved back to live with Gladys and Walt. And of course, Don was my salvation. Doing things with him and taking him with me all the time helped me through some dark days.
In March of 1933, on a Saturday night, Gladys insisted that I go to a party with them at their friends’, the Hugh Maden’s. Maden’s had a son, Roy. I had known Roy for several years before my marriage. He and his wife, Tiny, lived there, and they had a group of friends in for a party. There was a young man playing the piano. It was Hank Clement, who I had first met in 1928! We immediately hit it off. He was there without a date, too. He took me home, and we started dating steadily.
At this party, I sat down by Hank on the piano bench. He turned, looked at me, and gave me a big kiss, didn’t say a word, just grinned. I told him that wasn’t very nice. So, he gave me another kiss and asked, “Was that better?” Cute!
A few weeks later, I was invited over to the Clement home for dinner with Dr. and Mrs. Clement. They seemed to like me, and I was very impressed with how gracious they were to me. I was told by Hank’s mom that I would always be welcome, and that she hoped to see me often. I was thrilled about it.
That October, 1933, Dr. Clement paid for my divorce from Clayton,
knowing otherwise I could not get it quickly. Clayton had returned to his
home in North Dakota. The divorce was final May 1,1934. Henry and I
were married May 3, 1934.
His parents gave us a beautiful wedding at their home at 345 N. E. 17th Street. I have always been very proud of the fact that Dr. Clement got up early on the morning of my wedding day and picked a big basket of Cecil Brunner roses from his own garden, took them to the florist and had my wedding bouquet made. It was so beautiful. They mixed white orange blossoms with those tiny pink roses and the effect was gorgeous. Not many girls can boast of their future father-in-law doing such a nice thing.
Mother Clement bought me a beautiful gold silk crepe dress for my wedding. She also bought me several complete outfits, shoes, hats, underwear and everything she thought I needed. My father, nor any of my family could afford to pay for any of it. Mother Clement was so gracious, explaining she was only doing what my own mom would have done, were she alive. I never, in my wildest dreams, had ever hoped to own such things.
I was proud of my dad when he gave me away at the wedding. He was a handsome old man. Remember, he was past fifty years old when I was born. After the ceremony, at which there were just close friends and members of both our families, we had a small but nice reception.
Henry’s new job prevented our taking time for a honeymoon, so we went straight to our new little apartment. It was only three blocks from Mother and Dad Clement’s. Mother had it all stocked with groceries, enough for a month.
The folks really did spoil me that first year. Mother had a full-time cook, a housekeeper and a woman who came in twice a week to do the washing and ironing. She always included my clothes with hers, and did lots of baking for me, or rather her cook did. She was always having us over for meals and did many nice things for us.
Late that year we moved into a small house at 696 N. Church Street. It was close to where Gladys and Donnie lived. She and Walter had divorced in 1934. We were so happy in our little cottage. Gladys was working at the State Legislature that year. So, Hank and I had Donnie with us most of the time. We also acquired a little red Persian kitten named Cookie. We were foolish over that cat and had lots of fun playing with her.
Henry was still playing for dances and we usually took Don with us, not only on Saturdays, but every place we went. Don was doing well with his singing and was a big hit with the Mickey Mouse Club in Salem. Zollie Volchok, Brad Collins and Hank all worked with him, helping him learn the right new songs. In 1938, he got to sing with the Jimmy Dorsey Band in Eugene at the University of Oregon. He was very popular and also made some much needed money now and then.
Hank and I would go all over the state to hear and see the big bands when they came around on their tours. Bands such as Duke Ellington, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Cab Calloway, Fred Waring, Ted Fiorita and the Mills Brothers were among those we saw. We took Don with us as often as we could. What a treat!
I could go on forever talking of things like that, but about that time we learned we were to be parents. We were overjoyed by the idea. Mother and Dad Clement, and my dad, too, were hoping we’d have a boy. Norris Clement, Hank’s older brother and his wife, Frances, had two little girls. So, everyone was very anxious for ours to be a boy.
I was quite ill all during my pregnancy, and really felt miserable, but got by with the thoughts of what I would have when it was all over. The day arrived at last and our dear little son, John Lucian, was born.
I stayed in the hospital a full two weeks. The cost was just $3.00 a day. I was there over Christmas. We had quite a celebration in my room; a tree, presents and all. Of course Dad, Dr. Clement, arranged it. Gladys and Donnie and the folks along with Hank made it very special. They even let us have the baby with us for awhile.
Shortly before John’s arrival, we had moved to a duplex at 1922 N. Commercial Street. It was near where my father lived. He had remarried in 1933. He visited me every day and was looking forward to “his baby’s baby.” But, the Lord had other plans and took my precious papa home to heaven on September 9, 1935.
It was hard on me losing him at that time, but I made it. John was born at 8:54 a.m. on December 19, 1935. I was very thrilled and excited over him. Mother and Dad insisted that I have a nurse to help me with John when I went home. I was so thin and they were worried over me. My brother Morgan’s wife, Edna, did that kind of work, so we hired her and also a girl to do the cooking and housework. They stayed two months. I was so glad when they were gone and we had John all to ourselves.
At the time John was born, Henry was a charter member of the newly organized Salem 20-30 Club. Johnny was the first baby born to a club member after it was organized. When the baby was only three weeks old, the club honored us with a lovely formal dinner dance. Henry bought me a beautiful black silk dress trimmed in pearls. It was so pretty.
We moved late in the spring to a little house on Nebraska St. Henry was working for Paulus Brothers Cannery in the office. He was also playing for dances twice a week, on Wednesday and Saturday. Then, Dr. Clement talked us into buying our own home. He made the payment down on a lovely house at 1905 S. Church Street. Donnie Edwards lived with us a lot attending Leslie Junior High School, just a block away.
Henry’s folks were so good to us. I had a live-in gal to help me with the work and baby sitting. John had the longest black eyelashes and beautiful blue eyes. Along with that gold, curly hair, he was so cute. The whole family was very proud of him. He was walking and talking by the time he was nine months old. He could put words into sentences by a year old. We thought he was a real prodigy.
A businessman in town, Mr. C. P. Bishop, who owned a men’s clothing store, was a great friend of Dad Clement’s. He loved picking John up in his arms and talking to him whenever we were in the store or saw him on the street. He was amazed that John could walk and talk at that early age.
Henry decided he had had enough of the cannery job, so he quit. He went to work for the Montgomery Ward Department Store, which had just opened in Salem. It looked very promising, but what a mistake! Within a month, due to hard times, Ward’s laid off over half of their work force, Hank being one of them.
Dad and Mother insisted on Henry, Johnny and I spending at least six weeks over at the beach. They rented us a nice private home at Seaside. We loved every minute of it, even though Johnny had a mild case of the measles while we were there.
When we got back from the beach in September, Henry went to
work for Salem Sand and Gravel Company as head bookkeeper.
On April 1, 1938, our next big thrill appeared. Another wonderful baby boy was born. He, too, had curly hair, but it was more red like his mom’s and his grandpa Clement’s. He was such a doll.
By this time, Dr. Clement was Chief of Staff at the Salem Hospital and I really got the royal treatment, private room and my own nurse so we could have John in the room for visits. My Doctor, Kenneth Powers, and two of my nurses were also redheads. Everyone was so nice to me and the children, on account of Grandpa, I’m sure.
Gladys was staying at the house, taking care of Johnny and the house, and also cooking for Henry. She brought John to see me every day. Dave was just fine for a few days and then trouble developed. He could not keep milk down. I took him home when he was eight days old, but had to take him back to the hospital within a few days. Dr. Backstrand operated on him and corrected the trouble. But, a short while later, he developed asthma and bronchitis. They gave him thirty shots of some serum and it cured him. He never had it again.
Around 1942, Hank became a Christian and decided to quit playing for dances. It was causing trouble between us. He was away from home so much and we were afraid we were headed for divorce. But, we loved each other very much. He quit both the dance playing and working for the Sand and Gravel Company. He was never sorry about it and neither was I. I prayed so hard that God would send us another child. Well, I was soon pregnant and happy.
That spring, Henry put in a large Victory Garden close to our house
and kept very busy at it. We canned so many vegetables and I was so proud of his efforts. Dad helped us financially.
Henry and I thought it best to move away from Salem, and with his dad’s help, he got a job with Portland General Electric Company in Portland. We sold our home in Salem and bought a big place out in the Irving-ton District of Portland. At that time, 1943, it was a lovely neighborhood. It has gone downhill since then.
Henry’s job at P. G. E. started on August 11th, 1943. The boys and I stayed on in Salem for a few weeks before the place in Portland was ready. Hank stayed with Gladys and her new husband, Dan Schmidt.
Our country was well into World War II. Don Edwards and his best friend, Norman Lamb, had joined the Air Force early in the spring of 1943. They were sent . to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas for their flight training. We sure missed him. That December, Gladys went by train to visit with Don in Texas. That is where she was when our darling third son was born.
I went back to Salem for Don’s birth. All three boys were born in the same hospital in Salem. Mother Clement went to the hospital with me. Henry worked Saturdays in those days and the baby arrived an hour or so before Hank got there. We had hoped for a girl, but as soon as we saw our new doll we were perfectly happy with him. His hair was dark and very straight, not at all like his big brothers. He was such a good baby, never any trouble.
John had finished second grade in Salem. He and Dave were both in school, John in third and Dave in kindergarten. Dave did riot like school very well. In as much as he was bored, he stayed home a lot. Both boys loved caring for their little brother. This helped me a lot.
We stayed in the lrvington district just one year. The streets were so busy, we were afraid for the boys’ safety. We started looking and soon found “our little farm” out at 10108 S. E. Powell Boulevard, a big old house on a half acre of land. There, we spent the next fifteen years. I think this was one of the happiest periods of our lives, raising our three wonderful sons. We soon became active in the Powellhurst Baptist Church.
In 1947, we decided to take all three boys and make a trip to California. We visited my sis, Maud, and her family. We had lots of fun sightseeing around Oakland and San Francisco. We took the boys to Flieshacker’s Don 1957 Amusement Park and the zoo there.
The boys, all in turn, graduated from Powellhurst Grade School. John and Dave went on to Franklin High School. In Dave’s sophomore year and John’s senior year, they transferred to Portland Christian High School. They wanted to be with many of their friends from church. John graduated from there and Dave went back to Franklin High for his junior and senior years. He graduated in 1956.
Both of the older boys now belonged to the Air National Guard. When John went into the Guard, he trained right in Portland and in Boise, Idaho. Dave was sent to Lackland Air Force Base in Texas for three months.
In 1957, Hank, Don and I made another trip to California. The other boys were working and did not want to go. Gladys went along as far as Madera, where Don and his wife, Midge, were then living. After a few days with them, Don, Hank and I went on to Disneyland, Marineland and Knott’s Berry Farm. I’ll never forget the good times we had.
Over the next thirteen years, Henry and I made many trips to California, the Grand Canyon, Reno, and Las Vegas to name a few. We especially loved our visits to Edna’s daughter, Alberta’s in Glendale.
John stayed out of school one year after high school, then attended Lewis and Clark College. He graduated in 1958. He liked school. He was in rally squad and really enjoyed his life.
Dave went to Lewis and Clark one semester and didn’t like it. He went to Northwest School of Commerce from January to June, 1957. He worked at the Portland Post Office awhile, then decided to go to Portland State College, one year. In the mean time, he passed civil service exams and went back to the Post Office in July, 1959. He is still working there. He has steadily moved up the ladder and is now a supervisor.
Don finished Powellhurst Grade School and went on to David Douglas High School. He played in the school marching band. He started playing cornet and trumpet when he was in the fourth grade, and always just loved it. Dad and I bought him a lovely trumpet after he had played cornet for a few years. He was very good and we were proud of him.
After college, John went to work for the Retail Credit Company and moved to the Dalles, Oregon. We missed him.
In 1959, we decided to sell the farm and move out to a new house at
18030 S. E. Caruthers Street, near Gresham. It was a hard thing to do,
leaving the old place. We had been so happy there. There were heartaches and tears. Don transferred to Centennial High School. He graduated from there in 1962 and then attended Seattle Pacific College.
In 1960, John married Sherry Regelin. She was a darling bit of a blonde. She and John seemed so well-suited. It was a lovely wedding. John had moved to Bend late in 1959, so he and Sherry lived there for a few months after their marriage. They were married on January 15th. That next November 17th, they presented us with the sweetest little girl you ever saw, Rene’ Susan. At last, I had my girl. We all worshipped her.
After graduating from Seattle Pacific, Don went to India for a two year stint with the Peace Corps.
We had moved out to King City, near Tigard. We had the house built and we loved every inch of it. We moved in in March of 1966.
John Junior was born on January 10, 1962, another darling boy. He was as blonde as Rene’, and a little roly-poly. We had them with us a lot. There was a big swimming pool at King City and the boys and Dad taught both children to swim.
Before Don went to India, he had spent a summer in New York City with a group of Christian young people from his Seattle church working with children in Harlem. Then, the summer before India, he went to the Virgin Islands for Peace Corps training. He was home only a few weeks before leaving for India. That was a long two years. I wrote so many letters to him I almost had writer’s cramp. He was good about writing, too. That helped, but we still missed him a lot and worried about the food and his health.
In 1968, David decided to take a trip around the world. He timed it so he would meet Don in Bombay, India when his time was up there. This accomplished, they traveled through the Orient together and then headed for Hawaii. There, Dad and I, John and Sherry and Rene’ and Johnny met them! It was a glorious family reunion. We stayed there eight days. I could never really express the joy we had in all of us being together. The islands were all we had hoped they would be, just like a fairyland.
When we arrived back in Portland, we were met by friends and family, and then a big party at our home in King City. Our neighbors, Tom and Ida Sowersby, and my sister, Gladys, had arranged it all.
Dad had bought himself a Datsun pickup in 1967. In 1968, he bought me a beautiful gold and black Camaro. I was so proud of it. Don was very impressed with it.
After a few weeks rest, Don accepted a job teaching in Cleveland, Ohio. He heard of it from a fellow SPC friend. It was with the Cleveland Board of Education. I hated to see him leave again. He did fly home for Christmas with us that year, 1968, and again in April, 1969 for four days.
That late summer, Don met and married Diane Cliffe, an Ohio girl. We wanted to go back for the wedding, but they planned on coming to Oregon for their honeymoon. We decided to wait and have a reception for them so the whole family could greet them. Diane was so cute. We all liked her right away.
The reception turned out fine. They received so many gifts we had to have them packed and sent back home. There was no room in their little Datsun roadster. The time passed so quickly, but we enjoyed them so much.
Dave made a trip with a friend of his to Hawaii in the spring of 1971. He soon surprised us all with the news of his being in love and plans for marriage to Bonnie Baker. She was a young woman with two little boys from a previous marriage, Bradley and Brian. We were so happy for both of them. They were married on July 31, 1971. Their wedding was in the First Baptist Church in Vancouver, Washington. We had a large reception for them afterward in our home at King City. It was unbelievable, the number of people who came, family, plus dozens of people from the Post Office. They, like Diane and Don, got many lovely gifts. They went to California for their honeymoon.
Now, my boys are all married and are very happy. Hank and I feel so lucky that we now have three daughters, too. I hope they will like me.
We are beginning to look forward to our retirement in January of 1974. We have decided to sell out in King City and move back to Salem.
Henry and I have made so many great trips all around the Northwest, Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah and Hawaii. It would take too long to tell of all this.
On July 10, 1971, Don called us with the news we had a new red-headed grandson, Matthew David. We were happy for him and Diane. I made a quick trip back to Cleveland to see them in August. The three of them flew out to Oregon to see us in 1972.
Our second granddaughter was born on September 8, 1970 to John and Sherry. Her name was Leslie Ann. She had dark hair and bright blue eyes, pretty as everything.
Dave and Bonnie had a little boy, David Christopher, November 8, 1972. Such a cutie. David had adopted Bradley and Brian, so we were really blessed with grandchildren. Then, to top it all off, they adopted another boy, Michael Mortenson. Now we had eight grandchildren, quite a bunch. We love them and are happy with them all.
in the fall of 1973, we bought a mobile home and rented a place for
it at Southbrook Mobile Homes in southeast Salem. We quickly sold our
King City home and moved just as soon as Hank retired from P. G. E., after
thirty-one years with them, on February 1,1974. We moved to Salem on February 2nd.
That spring, we traded my little Camaro in and bought a Chevy Nova. It had more room for traveling and we put air conditioning in it. In May, we made a trip to Hawaii to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. When we got home, we packed the new car and went back to Ohio to visit Diane, Don and Matt. We left Salem on July 5, 1974. We had a glorious trip, stopping in Nashville on our way. It was so hot we didn’t get to see very much. The heat made it hard for Hank to breathe, so we headed on for Cleveland. We got there late on a Sunday night. Don and Matt were waiting for us. Diane was at work, but came home soon. While in Cleveland, we took a side-trip to Niagara Falls. It was a warm, loving time. We hated to tell them goodbye.
After a wonderful week, we packed up and started back to Oregon. We took the northern route. We saw so many sights, including Mount Rushmore. We had lots of fun. We bought enough souvenirs to start a junk shop. We stopped in Boise and saw Robbie and her family.
We really like our mobile home. It is a new way of living. There is a large swimming pool at the park. We will enjoy it.
In November of 1974, Thanksgiving week, I had to have a partial mastectomy of my left breast. I had discovered a small lump and immediately went to see Doctor Craig. He sent me to Dr. Richard Sloop. He did a fine job of allaying my fears and I got along very well after the operation. Dr. Sloop was a fine surgeon.
Then, in January of 1976, it was felt necessary to remove the right breast, too. I had found another lump. Although it was benign, Dr. Sloop felt that in time it would become cancerous.
I have never regretted my decision to have both of the operations. It took away the element of fear. I was fortunate in not having to go through the rigor of cobalt or chemotherapy treatments. It was not necessary in my case. It wasn’t long before I was back in the mainstream of life again. The Lord was so good to me, and so were the boys and Henry.
The summer of 1975, my dear sis, Happy (Gladys), suffered a severe stroke. She passed away in October. Oh, how I missed her. We had looked forward to living together in the same town again.
Henry and I made several trips to Hawaii in the next few years. He loved it over there. Even then, his emphysema was bothering him a lot. The trade winds over the islands made it easier for him to breathe. He was steadily growing worse. He had to give up his swimming and walks.
In June of 1979, he just forced himself to fly back to Cleveland to see Don and his family. He really was in a bad way, but he stood the trip just fine and we enjoyed ourselves very much. We flew out of Portland on June 18th. We had stayed with Bonnie and Dave the night before so we would not have to get up so early to drive up from Salem. Don, Diane and Matt did everything to show both Dad and I a good time. They succeeded.
After we returned home on June 25th, Hank just seemed to give up, as if he knew he did not have long to live. He always enjoyed having both John and Dave come and visit with him. I am sure they had many little private talks that the boys will always remember.
Henry spent lots of time talking to me and giving advice as to how I should face life after he was gone. I did not want to talk about his leaving me. I realize now that those special talks with him helped me in the months to come.
The year of 1979 was a miserable one for Henry. It was hard for him to get around. He had to use a wheelchair and walker most of the time. When we were in Ohio, Don had rented a wheel chair for his dad and we used it in going out to the restaurants. That way, he wasn’t too tired or out of breath to eat.
In September of 1979, John took him to the Oregon State Fair. John and Don Edwards were in charge of the publicity and advertising for the fair. They were able to put Dad and I right up on the stage during the big shows. We made friends with Clay and Sally Hart from the Lawrence Welk Show. We had always been so fond of them and enjoyed meeting them. We also met briefly a group of musicians called The Shoppe. There were five of them. They played good old country and western songs. We loved it.
1980, was a tough year, too. Henry had many falls and would have
to get someone to help me get him up. I felt so sorry for him and so useless in not being able to do more for him. I never left him alone except for a few moments at a time. If I had to be away, I hired a nurse, who lived here in the park to stay with him. She was very good in taking care of him and also a good friend.
When the fair rolled around again, it was impossible for Henry to go out for any of the shows. The Shoppe was appearing there again. When John told them Dad could not come to the fair, they asked if they could come out to our house to see him. So, John suggested I make some apple pies and chocolate chip cookies to serve to them. John brought them out and what a good time we had. They liked Hank, and he, them. They had a great visit. This was on Thursday. The Lord took Henry home less than a week later, on Wednesday, September 3rd, 1980.
Henry had been in the hospital several times during the year to try and get relief from the emphysema. On the night of August 30th, he fell again. I could not move him at all. It was around midnight. I called John at 1 am. He came right out and lifted his dad back into his bed. John decided to stay all night, in case that I would need him. He called to tell Sherry what he was going to do. Sherry insisted that we call ahead to the doctor and take Hank to the emergency room at the hospital in case he might have had a stroke. We took him in our car. We had to leave him there so they could make tests. We went back early on Sunday morning, but did not find out much. They still had other tests to make and said we should come back in the late afternoon.
The fair was still on, and John was very busy. Henry talked to us and really seemed pretty good. He was in a four bed ward. I saw him again that night. When John and I went back on Monday, Hank was in a private room. Dr. Craig said we should call the other boys. We did. Dave came right down. Don could not get away so quickly, but said to keep in close touch. We tried to.
Don had been out in 1978 when Dad had a bad spell. Di and Matt came with him. That time, he came out of it. As it cost so much for airfare, we were cautious about them dashing out again.
However, Tuesday, September 2nd, Dr. Craig said Dad could not last but a few hours. Not enough time for Don’s and Rene’ to get here. Rene’ was then living in Cleveland. She had been there since April 3rd. John, Dave and I hovered over him, trying to show him how much we loved him.
Edith LaBorde, Hank’s sister, and I were with him all day on Tuesday. He only knew us once in awhile. He hung on to my left hand, turning my wedding ring round and round on my finger. I will always feel that special touch of his dear hand.
By evening, John and Dave joined me. Edie went home. Hank seemed to be in a coma. The doctor told us it would be only a few hours. Around 10 pm, Dr. Craig, John, Dave and I all told him goodbye, each in our own way. We kissed him, the boys and I, and were going out the door. went back one more time, held him, kissed him and whispered to him, “I love you, Sweetheart.” And, to our surprise, he said very clearly, “I love you, too, Honey.” We all heard him. What a comfort that was for me. He just seemed to go to sleep so peacefully.
Dave drove home that night to get some clothes. I stayed alone.
Early the next morning, Wednesday, September 3, 1980, the hospital called John and said for us to get there in a hurry. He was in a deep coma by then. Bill Craig said he could be like that for hours and urged John to bring me home for awhile. We came home, and John left for a little while. At 1:20 pm, Bill called and said he had just been with Hank and that he had gone to his Heavenly Home.
In one way it was a relief to know he was not now suffering. But, oh the loneliness was awful. I called John’s house. Johnny Jr. came right out. John came in a few minutes. He was so sorry he was not here when Dr. Craig called.
Right away, he called Don in Cleveland, Dave and Bonnie and the rest of the family. It was quite a chore for him. It was good to have him to lean on and Dave, too. I wanted Donnie so much. They were here, though, as soon as possible, and that helped a lot.
I felt numb inside and out for several weeks and can’t recall very much of what happened at all. Rene’ flew out with Don, Diane and Matt. I can’t remember doing any cooking or housekeeping. I guess Diane and Don did it. It was an awful time for all of us, but especially for me.
My main reason for living was gone. We had 46 1/2 wonderful years together, and I have books and books of memories to fall back on.
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