Pre-Kindergarten
Inside Our Home 1923-1930
The stork brought me to the home of Rell & Ila Landau
on S. Buffalo, Oberlin, KS on the night of Jan 22, 1923. The stork called in to
be sure this little house by the tracks at the edge of a western KS town was
the right place. I was a replacement
for older brother “Buster”, Rell Jr, who died in 1922.
Calling Base, are you sure
this is the right place? Our home on S.
Buffalo Ave with Mom 7 wks with Dad 3.5 mo
Home through kindergarten 1930, then to Grandmother Bobbitt’s when home was sold pending new one
House: Our
home was a wood frame house with horizontal wood siding and a high pitched
roof. Dad’s finances limited him to a
small house he could improve, following my arrival he added on to the north
side to make room for more family. Our home was painted with a mixture of white
paint pigment and linseed oil giving it a off white cream tone. Most
importantly he connected to the newly extended municipal water supply and sewer
system by adding an inside toilet with lavatory plus a kitchen sink. For households still dependent on out
houses, thunder-mugs remained a necessity, especially on cold winter nights.
Francis Bobbitt 1900? Julia
(Comstock) Bobbitt 1934 Fredrick Landau
1920? Nancy (French) Landau 1922
These are the source of my
Genes, 1 of 4 from left and 1 of 4 from right.
My guess is one code from
Julia (England) and one code from Fredrick (German)
Both
grandfathers were gone before I arrived. The Bobbitts, Comstocks and French
lineage were in this country before the Revolutionary War, the Landau’s after
the Civil war. My awareness of family origins was gradual as I became
acquainted with grandmothers, uncles and aunts.
My
genes came from England and Germany, after migrating to NW KS.
Grandmothers Landau & Bobbitt Aunts Hazel and Nina right “Philosophian Club”
Margaret, Julia, Hazel, me-n-Max Ray & Edit with
Mom & Dad, me-n-Max
The “business men”, in
cattle country, wore straw hats.
Lights: Each room sported a single clear glass light bulb that dangled from
the center of the ceiling at the end of a long cloth covered twisted wire cord,
the bulb screwed into an exposed socket. My father placed light switches on the
wall near a door when he “wired” our home.
The switches had two black buttons, one above the other, with a white
dot on the face of one and the other left black. If the light was off the white
coded button protruded from the wall, when pushed to turn the light on the
black button popped out. I’d climb up on something so I could push the buttons,
I was as fascinated with how it worked. We pushed the lights on/off, as
compared to turn or flip.
Dim/Bright:
When it turned dusk and mother turned on the lights they would some times
exhibit odd behavior. They'd grow dim - bright - dim - bright like they were
slowing down till it seemed they'd stay off then they'd speed up till the light
stayed bright with no detectable pulsation. Mother would get after me for
staring at the light, which I could see after I'd close my eyes. (I learned this indicated they added another
diesel engine.)
Kerosene Lamp:
During wind and rain storms the lights would often dim. Sometimes they'd
brighten again and sometimes go out, power lines were vulnerable to the
elements. Mother kept a kerosene lamp handy.
If the lights stayed off I'd soon see the image of mother or father illuminated
by the light of a match as they'd lift the glass chimney from the lamp and
light the wick. I could understand light from a burning match or wick but
couldn't understand light from a thread sized wire inside a clear glass bulb.
Adults would say put out the light, just as put out a match or fire. My children say turn off the light as turn off
the switch.
Floor Plan after north addition
Papering:
The walls of the house smooth plaster spread over wood lath nailed to the 2x4
studding, however they were almost invariably covered with wall paper,
including the ceilings. Most people hung their own wall paper. It's selection,
a different pattern for ceiling and walls and different for each room was a
sure topic for interesting conversation with friends. There was also much
joking about the trials of getting edges to match, rubbing out air bubbles and
the hilarious, at least to the observer, entanglements of handling a floor to
ceiling length of limp paper wetted with a wheat base paste. I remember
watching and listening to my parents engaged in such antics, Dad with cigar in
mouth trying to align a long sheet near the floor while its remains draped over
his head and back. He'd call out to Mom to "hold the 'cussed' thing,
before it tangles." He would never swear in my presence but I fully
understand their frustration and sense of relief as they'd brush the length of
paper onto the wall and work out the air blisters. Wall papering provided a
terrific incentive to paint.
Trim:
Doorways, windows and base of walls were trimmed with thick, wide hard pine
finish boards painted with dark varnish. High quality wood was cheap.
Windows: The
windows were in two halves and each half raised or lowered, another relative
luxury. During winter weather I'd often stand' on a chair with my nose against
the cold window glass and stare outside at birds flitting, water dripping from
long icicles, snow clinging to bare tree limbs, etc. It was at these times that
I'd study the flawed quality of the window pane glass and the phenomenon of
condensing moisture from my breath. I'd draw figures on it.
Floors: The
living room and dining room had rug covered hard pine tongue and groove
varnished floor boards.
Colonnades: Colonnades separated the rooms. Colonnades
were popular features in the homes, they provided a place for family pictures
and heirlooms. I used to look at a picture of my brother who died at about 1.5
years old, before I was born, due to a fall.
Piano: The
prized possession in the living room as an upright piano. A Clock stood on top
of the piano, I learned to tell time at an early age, permission to go play
with a neighbor was dependent upon my returning by a predefined time. When I
started Kindergarten I was surprised to find many kids didn't know how to tell
time.
First Piece:
Mother had taught herself to play by ear
and had plans for me to learn to play. A playmate of mine, Norton Kessler who was several years older, had been taking piano
lessons and mother wanted him to teach me. I did learn how to read and play the
treble cleft, one finger at a time. Thankfully I was spared having to learn
because my hands were too small to span but a few keys. I did learn and still
remember the notes and words to a tune Norton taught me. Its all played on
black keys one finger at a time, figure 5, on last page. I was perhaps 5.
Piano Stool: The
piano had an unusual finish. It was dark brown with a checked varnish texture,
as if it had been given several coats of varnish which had then shrunk leaving
irregular segments about a quarter of an inch across with hairline gaps in
between. Instead of a bench you sat on a stool. The round stool seat was
mounted on a heavy threaded shaft that disappeared into the base. It was fun to
lay on my stomach across the stool and by grabbing the legs spin my self up and
even faster spin down. The feet of the stool were quite ornate. Four walnut
colored legs terminated in metal feet shaped like eagle claws that grasped
clear glass balls. They attracted my attention at an early age. As I grew older
I'd turn the stool over to look up through the glass to the underside of the
claws. In doing so I found I could swing the stool about me letting the seat
support the other end as it turned like a wheel.
Duafold: A
duafold served as a living room couch. It had flat oak arms and an artificial
leather seat. A significant feature was that the back would lift up, then with
three fold out flips the seat became a double sized bed. This was the spare bed
when Company stayed overnight.
Stove: The
dining and living rooms were heated in the winter with a stove that rested on a
large metal pad. There was also a range in the kitchen. The location of a stove
was always a problem. Most of its heat was distributed by radiation. Housewives
didn't care to have a stove and coal bucket for the centerpiece in a
room. There was also the necessity of having to connect the stove to a chimney.
Our chimney like most was a brick section that started from a few feet below
the ceiling and extended through the attic to well above the roof. Smooth black stove pipe and adjustable elbow
sections were fitted together to meet the chimney. Heating stoves were
sometimes removed during Summer. One reason for the high ceilings was to provide an upward slope from stove. Housewives
had a duster, made of a bundle of turkey feathers, and a bottle of stove polish. If stove pipes were a
necessity they could at least be clean and polished.
The section of pipe that connected to the stove had a damper. This was a round disk inside the
pipe which was attached to a rod that extended Out through the pipe. On one end
of this rod was a polished wire handle. Using the handle the disk could be
rotated, like an object on a spit to adjust the draft. The heating stove was
trimmed with ornate semi-polished cast iron. Coal was added via a door in the
side. The coal bucket had a wide protruding side which served as a pouring spout.
The coal rested on a grate and ashes
fell through to a lower section which had a side door and adjustable vent. This vent and the damper were
used to adjust the air supply and thus regulate the burn rate. If the damper
was left wide open the heat would escape up the chimney. If the damper were
shut off the room would fill with smoke. A shaker
was used to shake down spent ashes. A stubby flat bottomed sheet metal coal shovel also served to scoop ashes
from the stove to the coal bucket. Coal
dust & ashes were handled gingerly so they wouldn't dirty the room. A poker was always handy for stirring the
fire and a lifter for removing a top
lid. Logs were inserted from the top before going to bed. At night the stove
was filled with coal and the vent closed and damper partially closed. This
provided a degree of warmth through most of the night. The first up in the
morning added fuel to the fire and as soon as it was radiating heat the family
gathered to expose front and back sides to it's radiant warmth.
Round Oak Table: In the dining room was a large round oak table with chairs and buffet
to match, these were wedding gifts from the Landaus. Matching oak his and her (large and medium size)
rocking chairs with cushion seats were where Dad and Mom would sit in the
evenings to relax, visit, read or sew. A typical image was of my father smoking
a cigar, with a visor over his forehead and reading while mother sewed by hand.
A visor cut the glare from the clear glass bulb.
Linoleum Kitchen Floor: The kitchen
floor was covered with linoleum over wide hard pine floor boards. They warped
upward at their joints and the waxed linoleum snugly fitted their warped
rolling contour. The kitchen was my play
pen, I could crawl about on that slick floor at a fast clip.
Kerosene Stove:
There was a three burner kerosene stove in the kitchen. The cylindrical burners
had doors with Isinglass windows through which you could watch the height of
the flame. I'd watch my mother open the door, light a long wooden kitchen match and apply it to the edge
of a 3 inch diameter wick. It was
fascinating to watch the flame follow around the wick in each direction and
meet on the there side. Mother would then turn a knob which would raise or
lower the wick till it burned just right. A low wick and the fire would go out,
a high wick and it would smoke, when it was just right the flame was blue near
the wick and become a reddish white hot near the top.
A glass gallon jug upside down at one end fed coal oil (Kerosene) through a pipe to the bottom of each wick. As the coals
oil was consumed bubbles would gurgle up into the glass jug. In lieu of a cap
the jug had a screw on check valve which would let the kerosene out when the
jug was upside down and the cap plunger depressed. This jug was filled when needed
from a five gallon can kept outside with a potato
used as a cork. When the glass jug
was filled and replace8d it would gurgle bubbles and then stop. I couldn't
figure out why all of the kerosene didn't run out. When I put water in a bottle
and placed it upside-down bubbles would gurgle but all the water ran out. I
remember being spanked for repeatedly turning a bottle of water upside down on
the floor and watching the bubbles rise and water seep out.
Ice Box: Another fascination was the ice box. It had a
board across the bottom which swung
from the top edge. By lifting it you could remove the water pan from
underneath. Food was placed in the box through a front door and ice was put into a compartment in the top through a hinged lid. I could see in
the front door and under the box but couldn't see the ice in the top. It was a
big discovery when I discovered that the solid ice they put in the top was the
water that dripped into the pan.
Grocery Delivery Truck: Grocery
stores ran Delivery Trucks . They were Model T's. Mother would call in a list of groceries and within two
hours the grocery boy would make his
delivery. Strapped on the running board were
two five gallon cans of kerosene, after leaving the groceries he'd check our
supply of kerosene and refill our can if required and add it to the grocery
bill. Grocery Bills were paid at the
end of each month. Few people in town
had cars, and few kept horses/wagons in town, most persons walked to “down
town” or used the new luxury of a phone to call in their list of groceries for
delivery. Almost all groceries were of a staples form because most households
did their own baking and canning.
Ice Plant: The Ice
Plant also ran a delivery truck. Mother would place a card in the kitchen
window with an arrow pointed to how many pounds of ice she wanted. The delivery
man would come to the back porch, knock, yell Ice Man and enter the kitchen and deposit the ice in the ice box
and leave. He wore a heavy wide leather flap over his shoulder and across his
back and with a set of Ice Tongs carry the ice on his back. Using
an Ice Pick he'd expertly reduce a
100 lb. block of ice to the desired size and give ice splinters to barefoot
kids who'd gather to watch him.
Kitchen Sink: The kitchen sink was mounted on the wall and
had a single cold water faucet. It was not enclosed and my view was of the
rough unpainted under side and crooked pipe that came out of the bottom. Cast
iron support brackets were shaped in the form of camels. They were my pets and
I'd reach up and pet them. I'd learned the various animals from animal shaped
soda crackers mother bought for my soup. I only saw the top of the sink when
mother gave me a bath or washed my hair.
Kitchen Cupboard: Food and utensils were kept in
a cupboard. It had a porcelain counter that could be pulled out. The lower
section held pots and pans and large metal lined drawers for bulk storage of
flour and sugar. Bakery goods were expensive luxuries and most housewives did
their own baking and canning. The very top section had room for dishes and the
section behind the counter contained spices, coffee, tea etc and could be
enclosed by pulling vertical interconnected slats, like on a roll top desk,
except vertical around from each side. It was a fancy innovative design.
Kitchen Range:
Much kitchen activity centered about the range. There was a
section on the left with multiple lids above a fire place, grate and a long
sheet metal removable ash box. To the right was an oven with fold down door. Bread,
pastries and meat were baked several days a week and usually always on Wash Day. Water was placed in a large
long copper boiler placed on top of
the range above the fire section. This was the means for heating wash and bath
water. The fire vented via ducting over the oven section before going up the
stove pipe and past the damper to the chimney. On each side of the stove pipe
riser in back of the range were warmer
compartments. They would keep food warm or be used to make bread dough rise
faster. Various locations provided different levels of heat.
Ironing Cloths: Clothes were ironed by using flat irons heated on the range. A detachable handle
permitted a quick exchange from warm to hot iron bases. These phased out as electric irons phased in. When washing
clothes, homemade soap was whittled into pieces and dumped into the copper
boiler of water as it was being heated. After the water was hot clothes were
dumped in and in effect boiled. The clothes were stirred and lifted out with a
piece of broom stick into a galvanized
tub of cold rinse water. Manual operation of the broom stick served the
function as agitator in a washing machine.
Another tub of clear rinse water to which had been added bluing was placed next to the first
rinse tub. A hand crank wringer was
clamped to the first rinse tub and the clothes run through the wringer from one
tub to the other before being carried outside and being hung from a clothes line with clothes pins. If clothes were especially dirty they were rubbed
over a scrub board before boiling in
hot soapy water. The scrub boards had a wavy wood, metal, or glass plate
contained by an outer wooden rim. The scrub board was placed vertically against
the edge of a tub of soapy water and the clothes scrubbed up and down against
the scrub board using both hands in a push pull motion. These were replaced by hand powered washing machines. Such
machines had a wooden tub on stilts and a long external arm which was pulled
back and forth to rev up a mechanism inside which agitated the clothes. The electric motor was added to these hand
operated designs, to drive the agitator
and wringer, thus began the evolution
of the modern automated washer/dryer.
Wall Phone: The telephone was mounted on the kitchen
wall. It was a large rectangular oak box. The front of the box had two bells near the top, a speaker mounted on a long neck that pivoted near the box and
a small sloping shelf intended to
support a pad for writing. On the right side was a crank and on the left side a cantilevered "U" between
whose arms the ear-piece was suspended.
To operate the phone the ear piece was lifted and placed to the ear to see if
anyone was on the line. When the ear piece was lifted the "U" hanger
came up turning on a switch so you could hear. If no one was on the line the
ear piece was replaced and the crank on the side of the box turned. The turning
of the crank generated electricity which would ring other phones on the line.
Each party on the line had a ring: two longs, long and short, etc., so they
could recognize their call. It was called a party
line, anyone could talk and anyone listen. Farmers used this to advantage
for emergencies. An emergency ring could call everyone to the line, like for
notification of a fire or need for help. Conversations on a party line were
certainly not private. If a question was asked it was liable to be answered by
a nosey listener. I'd crawl up on my high
chair, take off the receiver and listen to people talk, until my mother
told me not to, that it was impolite.
It had been alright till my parents knew I under stood what was being said.
Meal Time: At meals I sat in a highchair. I recall my
parents resorting to spelling,
usually to ask what was for dessert, and my failing to hide the fact that I
could understand them. When mother would answer P-I-E or C-A-K-E I'd ask what
kind. Then they resorted to pig Latin
or some such stunt to confuse me. I enjoyed the game.
The Bathroom: The
bathroom was just off the kitchen. I was caused to sit there on a little gray
porcelain pot. Sometimes I'd sit and sit till the pot would stick to my rump
and after removed would leave its crease. Sometimes I'd have a test of will
power with my mother and defiantly “not do anything” even if I could until
she'd finally give up. It was quite a balance act to use the big stool. I found
a way to keep myself from falling back into the abyss. With one hand I'd steady
myself and use the other to aim my plumbing down so it wouldn't soak the
clothes draped around my ankles. In the cold of winter it was worse because you
had to drop the rear flap in the long
johns and then try not to get the flap wet. My plumbing seemed to shrink
with cold weather and cold hands didn't help.
My most vivid memories of the bathroom were spankings. Dad had a leather razor strap that could bite
right through clothes. One of my spankings was for running off and hiding so
mother couldn't give me a bath. I didn't want soap in my eyes. The next time I
slipped back into the house and hid the razor strap, it was the last time I
tried that. Dad got a wire like switch from a plum thicket and repeatedly
swatted me across my bare legs, I tried to protect my legs with my hands and it
hurt just as bad on my hands. The switch left narrow red welts, I thereafter
was sure the razor strap was readily available.
One day after doing something I shouldn't I waited in
dread of when Dad got home. Mother had given up trying to spank me. Dad and I
retreated to the bathroom, he got the razor strap, sat down on the stool lid
and I laid bottom up across his lap. I had made up my mind that no matter how
much it hurt I was not going to cry. Dad unleashed the strap on my rump and it
bit, but I didn't utter a sound. He gave me another series of whacks, no sound,
then another set harder than the others, still no sound. I felt him relax his
grip and he told me to go to the bedroom. I quietly massaged my sore bottom as
I listened at the door catching bits of his telling mother, "but I can't
spank him when he doesn't even cry!" I don't recall ever being spanked
again. There after I caused it to be sufficient correction and punishment for
my father or mother to admonish me for something -- I knew was wrong and would
correct myself.
Taking a Nap – Who am I? I have vivid memories of studying the way my
baby bed was made. It had round iron
vertical rods that attached to upper and lower horizontal rods with ornate cast
iron joint connections all painted with gold metal paint. I kept wondering how
those connection pieces were made. One
day I experienced an increased senses of awareness while studying my bed after
awakening from a nap. It was as if my mind had cleared, a step change like when
your sinus clears after having a cold.
There was a step change in my awareness. My interests leaped from exploring the bed to standing up in the
bed and exploring the room. Then I
asked myself who are you? Why am I me? Why am I not someone else? Do other
people wonder who they are? Does Mom and Dad know who they are? Does everyone
wonder who they are? I was intently
focusing on what and why. I studied how the room was made, the window frame,
the blind, the fact that it blocked the
sun light making it easier to nap. I
wondered what was going on outside. I
asked why are you in bed? This is a waste of time, you’ve looked at this bed
long enough, Don’t wait for Mom to let
you out of bed, Climb out, go outside
and see what’s going on. Taking a naps
a waste of time. Abruptly I'd become an
adult, it was startling and exciting. I
don’t recall having climbed out of bed before but once Mother realized I could
and would climb out, she no longer insisted I take a nap. I had grown up, but I don’t know how old I
was. I don’t ever remember being a
child again, I became the thinking machine I am, I wanted to know about
everything.
Baby Sister #1
I was awakened in the wee
hours one night by activity in the house. I climbed out of bed and in my
pajamas, with enclosed feet and a flap in back that I had trouble buttoning. I
sleepily rubbed my eyes and walked into the kitchen where my father was holding
something in a blanket. He said it was my new baby sister. He spoke and smiled as if it were a big event and said
I could look but not touch her. I looked, couldn't understand what all the fuss
was about and grumbled, "Why don't you guys quit making so much
noise." Phyllis arrived Sept. 4,
1927. The baby bed was no longer mine.
Mounting
Hinges with Screws: The front bedroom was my parents room and I
was seldom there. My father added an extra closet with hinged doors after I was
old enough to watch. I learned how to remove wood with a plane by watching him.
I also learned how to mount hinges and install wood screws. Years later I was
amazed to find that some adult men didn't know how to install a wood screw
without splitting the wood.
This is my tub This is my buggy
Front porch, 1 yr., Jumper I
recall removed
Mom takes photo of me in tub: Mother had started to give me a bath in the tub in the kitchen
sink, then abruptly decided she wanted to get a photo of this process because I
was becoming too big for the tub. As usual she talked with me of what she
planed to do, I don’t recall speaking with her, but I fully understood what she
said. She’d take photos before with her
“box” camera and I knew a person was to hold still and that she needed good
light. She decided to place me in the
sunlight coming through the front door and carried me tub and all in the
sunlight on the living room rug near the big oak dinning room table. She admonished me to not splash as she did
not want soapy water splashed on the rug.
So I took hold of the sides of the tub so she’d know I was not splashing
and sat motionless to not spoil the photo.
I don’t know how old I was, but at that age I was very aware and
understood what was said and happening.
Baby Buggy: I recall
when Mom put me in the baby buggy to take my picture. Someone was with her and I began yelling out at them or other
kids. I was yelling loud – as if I’d
found my voice which could reach beyond my confinement. I recall this in part because at some point
I was being a “loud mouth”, Mom probably admonished me to quiet down. But I recalled the event because I told
myself it was not nice to be a loud mouth – and since I should not yell I
wanted out of the buggy. I had grown
too old for the buggy, and was aware I was in it because Mom wanted one last
picture of me in the buggy.
Front Porch – The Jumper: The front
porch was enclosed to a height of 2.5 feet. My parents blocked off the exit to
the steps and let me play there. I have vivid memories of being in a jumper on the front porch, from photos
this was before I was a year old. I
listened as Dad and Mom discussed where to put it, they decided the front porch
was the place and Mom wanted it in front of the door so she could see me by
leaving the front door open. I watched
as Dad picked where to place the large hook screw, wondering if the overhead
boards would be strong enough to hold.
It had a white canvas seat with four straps extending upward to a spring
at the top which was attached to the ceiling hook so it could be taken down and
not be in the way. It was adjusted in
height so I could stand or sit – it was supposed to help me learn how to stand
up and not fall down. I was fascinated
for a while “playing in it”, twisting, trying to jump. Though called a Jumper the jumper part
didn’t work very well. I could use my
feet to wind and unwind in a rotary motion.
That became boring and I found I could pull myself up with the straps
and stand in the seat – I could then jump and get more action out of the coil
spring at the top. Mom would come out
and put me back into the seat, trying to tie in so I couldn’t climb. It soon became obvious I didn’t want to stay
in the jumper and would manage to get out – it didn’t take long to get bored
and want out.
Front & back porch, after north addition, Rolling Mill in back
At the south end of the porch was a wooden porch swing.
In the era before radio and TV people would sit on the porch in the evenings
and swing back and forth as they visited. As I grew older I'd swing it end to
end till it would hit the house, my folks would get after me. The swing was
suspended by chains which were made of twisted wire segments, butt welded smooth chains were not
available, the twisted chains had a rough feel to the hands.
Back Porch: The back porch was screened in to keep out bugs and flies. In the summer mother would
set up the kitchen table on the back porch so we could enjoys the benefits of
any cool evening breeze. Before the days of air conditioning it was a real
pleasure to get out of a warm house and yet evade the bugs. I remember the cool
refreshing taste of ice tea and the
fun of getting to eat fresh corn off the
cob.
Killing Millers:
One evening we came home from
a ride to find the kitchen full of millers. The kitchen light had been left on
and the back porch door left open. Dad took the dish pan and partially filled
it with kerosene from the 5 gallon can on the back porch. He held it up to
within a foot of the kitchen light and in a few moments all the millers had
blindly flown into the kerosene. It was abruptly effective and a method I've
never seen used since.
Early Radio: The first radio I remember was one my
father placed on a table on the back porch. It was housed in a walnut box about
one foot square and two feet long. It operated on batteries, had an aerial wire,
ground wire, earphones and two large
dials. I'd patiently sit by my father as he'd sit with headphones on and
slowly turn the dials* I'd watch his face to know when he'd find a station.
There were few stations on the air then and he'd hunt for KMMJ from Topeka Kansas as
the strongest station, use it to trim the set and then search to see if he
could find other stations. When he'd find one he'd grin and disconnect one of
his earphones so I could put it to my ear and listen. The stations would fade
in and out and drift. Searching the broadcast bands produced mostly whistles,
dot and dash signals and signal noise. This radio was replaced by an Atwater Kent.
The Atwater Kent had a large box like metal case with a
gray-tan colored wrinkle finish. [This case was later used
by Phyllis and Marjorie as a chest of doll clothes.] A 15 inch
diameter by 4 inch deep metal case sat edge-wise on a stubby base. This housed
the speaker and usually rested on top
of the radio box. It was a tremendous improvement and in my memory, it usually
had a beautiful tone. My father made a wood
stand for it and a magazine rack
painted to match. He painted them a blue green and then added decals for decoration. The decals were
dark blue and included pictures of Dutch
windmills. I watched my father soak them in water, place them on the wood
and peel back the paper, then brush out the decals film like material. I was
quite impressed with how that delicate picture could be transferred and glued.
The Flood: One night I waited up with my mother for my
father to return home. After supper it had thundered, lightening flashed and
then followed torrents of rain. Streets flooded, lights went out and the phone
went dead. Before the phone went dead Dad had talked with other business men
and they were concerned about basements of stores flooding. Our yard was
covered with water and our cellar flooded. Cars could not be driven but Dad put
on some high top rubber boots and waded to where he worked which was an office
at basement level below a bank. After a long wait we were happy to see him
return. The entire office and all their records including a Safe Vault and bookkeeping machines were
under water. The city fire truck pumped water from basements all night long and
through the next day.
Do-It-Yourself Kitchen Table & Paint Job: Dad built
our kitchen table and later added fold down leaves on the sides to provide more
room. They said I'd be sitting at the table to make room for Phyllis in the
high chair. Like most new households there was a lot of do-it-yourself furniture. Dad was on the city council when they
bought the new diesel engines for the power plant and managed to salvaged some
of the crating lumber for making the table. The pieces were stenciled with
black ink but was otherwise excellent clear soft pine. This was a prized fined
as the wood was well suited for dads hand operated
coping saw for rounding the corners. There had been a struggle on how to
fit the slide out piece from under the table so it would hold the hinged leaf
up tight. I learned the idea of making a wedge
by watching him add tapered pieces, like from a shingle, which would wedge the
leaf up tight. All that remained was to paint over the black stencil markings
on the wood.
The kitchen chairs were some that had belonged to my
mothers mother. We later called them the Indian territory chairs because they
were brought with them when the family moved from Oklahoma to Kansas, (I still
have two of those chairs).
One night after supper my father started painting the
kitchen table and chairs. I became engrossed in watching how it was done and
was given permission to stay up to watch Daddy finish. There had been much
discussion on what color and how to mix blue, green & white to get the
proper shade mom wanted, you mixed your own colors then. There had also been
much sanding, then stirring of paint before Dad finally started painting.
Father had stooped, squatted and bent over carefully covering and brushing out
the paint on each rung, leg and segment. He patiently endured my help and
frequently found it necessary to ask me to move out of his way or out of the
light so he could see.
He finally stood up and flexed his feet and legs to
regain circulation. He then bent over and carefully checked his work,
commenting on how he'd managed to not spill paint on his new coveralls.
Convinced he'd done a good job he rose up, turned to Mom, stretched and said he
was sure glad that was done. With a sigh of relief he unwrapped a fresh cigar,
sat down to light it and relax. The match never reached the cigar ...... a shocked expression spread across his face;
then changed to chagrin, then resignation and belly laughter. Mom and Dad's
laughter brought tears; he'd sat down in
the chair he had just painted. Seeing the chairs imprint stenciled on his
bottom brought on more pangs of laughter. Those coveralls hung in a small
closet by the back door for about a year before Dad disposed of them, it was a
fun family joke but too embarrassing to advertise.
Fix it with a Kiss: My first sickness that I
recall was Chicken Pox. I itched all over and had a terrible time trying to
sleep. It was my first confrontation with having to endure something that couldn't be fixed. Previously if I fell
and bumped my head my mother would fix it
with a kiss. I soon recognized the difference between sympathetic adulation
versus fixing an ailment.
Dads Neck in a Cast: One morning I
awakened to find that my father had been taken to the hospital in Norton, an
adjacent county seat. He'd been playing indoor softball in the new grade school
gymnasium and when running rammed his head against a wall breaking a vertebrae in his neck. After a some time he was brought
home. He was encased in a white gauze and plaster
cast from waist up except for holes for his arms, face and a hale for his
hair. It was very uncomfortable but he endured the discomfort quite well
considering.
He'd have my uncles Lee & Francis use tin snips to modify the holes for his arms so they
wouldn't rub raw. He also had mother obtain a bristle brush with a long wire handle so he could insert it through
the hole around his hair down to his back to relieve the itching he couldn't
scratch. When he'd finally find the spot he'd smile with relief. He had more of
the cast trimmed away after a few weeks so he could wear a suit coat and go to
work but as I recall he wore the basic cast for almost three months I remember
him sitting in that cast listening to the radio, reading or visiting with
friends. It was quite a change to mother's and my routine for father to be
there all day. At the time I didn't realize how serious such an accident could
be but I could sympathize with his discomfort and share in his joy at shedding
off that cast. One of his friends, George
Nelons was a barber and I watched when he came to the house and shaved adds
heavy growth of beard. I don't believe anyone thought to take a picture.
Yeah,
It’s a nice book What are you doing –
peeking under the sheet?
All right, I’m holding a block, you’re
peeking again I’ve played with blocks
before – what are you doing?
Photos at Dyer Studio Age
1: After more than 70 years I recall
having those photos taken. Mr Dyer & Mom were asking me to hold still and
smile. At first they tried to get me to look at a book, then play with blocks –
they soon found I was more interested in what Mr Dyer was doing. Mr Dyer said
“he’s being very good” – I presume he was used to over active wiggling kids –
“if we could just get him to smile.”
Mom made the outfit I was wearing and “we’d” tried it on so it would fit
right – this seemed important to her. I was very curious about what Mr Dyer was
doing. There was a large box with a
round thing in front that he’d adjust then put his head under a black cloth in
the back and look into the box. He held a long black thing that went from a red
ball in his hand to the front of the box. He’d tell me to hold still and smile,
then squeeze the red ball – saying to Mom, that’s a good one. He’d put another
square plate thing in , then pull a black sheet out as if it was then ready.
Again they’d tell me to smile. I was too engrossed in what he was doing to
smile, I wanted to look in the box, but they’d say no just sit still for one
more – only smile. With these photo’s defining how old I was, I’m convinced a
one year old kid has adult learning ability. I was tracking everything he did
and wanted to know more – if they’d let me.
Another is coming to
live with us
Gichie Gichie Goo – Sister #1 Phyllis
Sister #2 Marjorie, Missed Stork, came by Train: The grain roller milling company east of our
house, fig 11g, was a beehive of activity during harvest time. I had trouble getting to sleep because of the warm
night and sounds of people working through the night. I had finally gotten to
sleep when I was awakened by the clanging sound of a train bell and sounds of
men shouting. I got out of bed and looked out the back window I could see a box
car, illuminated by work crew spotlights, had ran off the spur track from the
flour mill and smashed our chicken house.
I watched dad and uncle Lee darting about casting long shadows, they
were chasing chickens. The chickens
roost had been shoved from under them, perch less they fell to the ground in
pitch darkness, a rude awakening from a sound asleep. Rightfully befuddled they were still emerging from the chicken
house, squawking their indignation.
When chased they noisily flittered and fluttered until caught and put
inside the hastily repaired pen. The
next morning I learn of Marjorie’s arrival.
It became a family story that Phyllis and I arrived by stork but
Marjorie arrived by train. It was July
6, 1929, the year Wall Street crashed in New York, but we were too young to
notice.
Cousin Geraldine arrives –
in need of safety pins: In the wee hours I heard a knock at the
door, it was uncle Ray, He said, in what seemed like an urgent tone,
tell your mother I need some safety
pins, puzzled I did as he asked wondering why? Uncle Ray never came to our house that early in the morning, and
why would he want safety pins? Mom and
Ray were soon engrossed in conversation so I went back to bed. When I got up, mother told me that Max had a
new baby sister, but couldn’t relate that to the need for safety pins. I paid attention to what Mom used safety
pins for and soon understood.
My first piece, all on black keys, taught by Norton Kessler, before kindergarten
My Mom ma told me, If I be lol le, that she would buy me, a rubber dol ly.
Now don't
you tell her, I've got a fel ler, or she wont buy me, that rubber dol ly.
This home had been the site of arrival for each of my
parents children. We were to move shortly thereafter.