The summer I was 13 or 14, my cousin Evelyn also came to visit at Aunt Nell's, staying three or four weeks. She was two years older than me, a year older than Honey. She was the daughter of my father's brother, George. He died during the flu epidemic of 1918 when Evelyn was still a baby. Her brother, Harold, was two years older. They lived in Cleveland with their mother, Aunt Ruth and her husband(s), one at a time, but she had several spouses as I recall. Evelyn had a half-sister, Betty, and a half-brother, Denny (eventually Betty married my brother, Dick).
When Evelyn arrived we all decided to visit some relatives we had not met before. Aunt Florence and Uncle Josua Fike lived out in the country some 20 miles away. Evelyn knew them; their son, Clarence, a few years older, was a classmate of hers. They were cutting hay when we arrived and said we could help them. I helped rake the hay left in the field after the big hay bundles were picked up and placed in wagons. Honey and Evelyn helped in the wagon. All I recall is that I was wearing sandals and that the wet stubble was painful on my feet. It was a long, hot job. The best part was riding the horse-drawn wagon back to the barn. Another boy named Ralph lived with them. The boys were going to a party that night and took us along. I can't remember a thing about the party except the hostess, a tall, beautiful girl named Elvira.
We stayed with the Fikes three days, playing cards and trying to dance with the boys to Victrola music in the evenings. Then we left to visit our grandparents in nearby Hazelton; they had moved there the year before. Their house, with a tin roof, was across from the flour mill. When it rained it sounded like perpetual thunder. The mill was run by an old water wheel. The noise was deafening at first but we got used to it. My dad’s half-brother, Ross, worked at the mill with grandfather. Ross, wife Ruby and their three children lived next to our grandparents.
They had a daughter about Honey's age, Masserine, who had an illegitimate baby boy. Her sister, a couple of years younger named Wanda, and a brother, Regis. We spent a lot of time with the kids but did not eat with them because Aunt Nell told us not to. Ruby's brother lived with them and he had tuberculosis. He was the skinniest person I'd ever seen and just laid on the couch and slept. Just waiting to die I guess as there was no treatment then. Aunt Nell said we might get TB if we ate there. Sometimes we would make divinity candy and share it with the other kids. We would buy a pound of brown sugar (5¢), make a syrup and pour it into beaten egg whites. Great candy we thought. We stayed there three days and then got a ride back to Bruceton Mills with the mail truck.
When Honey was 16 years old she quit school and got married. She returned home after five or six months and eventually got a divorce. Then she finished her schooling. I never saw much of her again. She married again and moved to California. When I was 61 I visited her there where she was living with her husband Don. I met her daughter, Pamela, learned that her brother lived in San Diego.
Aunt Nell was the family matriarch; she was the one everyone came to for advice and help. My father was very close to her and always consulted her with his problems. She was six when her mother died and thus became a little mother to her brothers, little George and John. She was their protector and closest confidant when they were growing up.
She was rather tall for the family, 5 foot, five inches, and buxom, with black hair worn long with a knot in the back, hazel eyes, actually more grey than any other color. She worked from morning to night: up at five to get breakfast and pack a lunch for Herm, then getting breakfast for whoever else was there. She not only took Honey back after her marriage but cared for a daughter of Herm's niece for a couple of years. When Herm’s sister and her husband were unemployed and destitute she took them and their three kids in until they could get back on their feet. Then the husband of a niece of Herm's left her and her three kids and they came to live with Aunt Nell for over a year. After Grandma died in the early 1940s, she took in Grandfather who was old and feeble. He died about a year later at 80. Then Uncle Herm developed leukemia and she nursed him for a year until he died in 1945.
Honey had a daughter in 1940 and another in 1942 - Patty and Nancy - before she married Don and moved to California. Aunt Nell raised both of the girls. One remained in Bruceton Mills, married and lived in the same old house. She and her husband cared for Aunt Nell until she died at the age of 92.
Aunt Lulu was my favorite; she was my father's half sister and was six years older than he. She was married to Albert Cunningham and lived in Uniontown, Penn. I spent several weeks with them during two summers. Mabel was her oldest daughter and married to Ben Manning; they had a son, Ben Jr. ("Mint") who was a couple of years younger than me. They lived a block away but Mint spent most of his time at Gram's house. Margaret was about 12 years older than me and was teaching at a school when I visited them at the age of 10.
I remember the first day of my arrival, all the grownups were in the house and I was in the front yard. The man and woman across the street got into a fight and I went over and hung around until the cops came around to break it up. Then I ran to Aunt Lulu and the rest of the family and told them all about it. “Oh,” said Margaret, "isn't Mama going to love our little gossiper; she won't miss any of the news in the neighborhood now." I didn't know what she meant until everyone laughed, then I thought it must be a compliment.
Jean was four or five years older than me; she worked in a 10¢ store in the summer. She would take me out on dates with her boyfriend, Bob Wallace. I thought him the most handsome guy I'd ever seen. We would go to movies, visit her friends or just out for a ride in Bob's open roadster. Tom was the youngest, just two or three years older than me. My greatest joy was when Tom and his boy friends would play with me and the neighbor kids, Donald and Dorothy Ronesberg. I remember that the big boys would come and capture the twins and me and take us to the cellar. Tom would tie us up and tell us we're in this dungeon and would die there, there was no way out. He turned the water on in the sink and told us that the drip would fill the room with water and we would drown. Then he would clink chains, scrape wood across the window and leave. We would be literally scared to death. Oh, what joy when Aunt Lulu would call out: "Time to come in, Tom and Bobby."
Aunt Lulu was the sweetest woman on earth; I don't think she ever raised her voice or spoke a harsh word in her life. She would spend a lot of time talking and listening to me. She always treated children as if they knew something. She was a great seamstress and every time I left her house I would take a couple of dresses she had made for me. I also remember her angel food cakes; no one could make as light and fluffy a confection as she. My favorite cake then - and now. Aunt Lulu lived until she was 95; my bitterest disappointment was visiting her in a nursing home when she was 93 and she didn't know me. She was neat, serene and polite as always but had no idea of who I was. I'll never forget her though.
Next door to our little Akron home were neighbors who were great friends of my parents. They had a 1~ year old girl, Dorothy ("Midgie")and I loved to take care of her. Alma and Raymond permitted me to come to their house as often as I liked and take care of Midgie. When she was 3 Alma had to go to the hospital and my folks cared for Midgie. I would come home from school every day, dress Midgie in her little red coat and leggings and take her for a walk or to visit friends. I adored her and slept with her at night; she was the little sister I never had.
When she was about five I started taking her to the movies with me Saturday afternoon. Alma would pay me a dime, five cents for the movie and five cents to spend. One time the film was on the werewolf of London. Poor Midgie got so scared that she crawled off the seat onto the floor and kept crawling toward the door. I had to get the usher to shine her flashlight to find her and I was mad because I missed part of the movie. I wonder if the experience inflicted lasting damage to her psyche.
Our other neighbors were the Schers. Mrs. Scher was a widow with three children - Mark, Dick and Alice. Mark was my age, and my boyfriend. When Mark was 16 he quit school and joined the Navy. We corresponded for a short time. Within two years he was dead of TB. I named our only son after him.
When that age I liked to dance; my greatest hope was to be a professional dancer. We never had money for lessons but I learned the Charleston and the Black Bottom from watching dancers in the films. The neighbors often asked me in to show my dances. I suppose I gave them a lot of laughs with my dance routines. At school a high school girl came to our class one day and said that if any kid wanted to learn to dance, she was giving lessons for 40¢ each after school. My mother gave me the money and I went to my first tap dancing class. I loved it and visualized myself dancing my life away. The next week Mon didn't have any money; I went to class but, no money and no dance lesson. That was the end of my dancing career.
When I was 14 my Dad got a job delivering coal and we moved to a house on Waterloo Road. The upstairs was turned into an apartment which we rented. In all my life I had never lived where I had my own room. We usually had two bedrooms, one for my parents and one for my brothers. Usually I slept on a couch in the dining room. In our new home I slept in the sun room off the living room - the closest thing to my own bedroom.
My closest friend was Faye McCauslin, who lived just down the street. Her folks ran a small general store, a beer joint and a gas station. Faye had worked in the store since she was eight years old. We spent many evenings together there. When things were quiet we would play cards or just yak. Mostly Faye's contacts were the older friends of her parents or people she met in the store or beer joint. Consequently Faye was much more sophisticated and older in thoughts than the rest of kids her age.
At 14 Faye ran away with the 19-year old gas station attendant, Sam. They were married in West Virginia and then returned home and rented an apartment from her folks, which was located over the beer joint. Her folks allowed them to work in the gas station and beer joint but told them they were on their own and would not help them in any other way. Faye quickly became pregnant and had to quit working; they had a rough time getting along on one income, since her folks gave them no extra help. Sam started drinking, neglected his job and was fired shortly after the baby was born.
The baby was six weeks old when I came to visit them. It was Christmas Day. I was shocked to find that the only food they had was an onion sandwich and one can of milk for the baby. They didn't know what to do next. I went to Ela and Bun, told them of the situation. They immediately went down, invited Faye and Sam to come, stay at their home until Sam could find a job and the couple could get on their feet. One morning when the baby was three months old, Faye found him dead in his bed. The autopsy revealed pneumonia, but Faye said he had not even had symptoms of a cold. However, he was a thin and sickly baby.
Shortly thereafter Sam got a job and they moved in with her mother for a while because her 50- year old father had run away with the 25-year old bartender. Faye had two more children by Sam but he became an alcoholic and thief, finally left her when the youngest was two years old. He eventually was sent to prison for passing bogus checks and Faye divorced him. She married again, was happy and had three more children. She always remained close to Bun and Ela.
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments