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THE LIFE STORY OF GertrudeGertrude CassadyCassady DickersonDickerson 2 am eighty six years old presently enrolled in a class in Glen Oaks Community College close by Three Rivers, IMichigan. The year is 1979. The class instructor comes to River Forest Nursing Home where I now live and is teaching us how to write on various subjects. One assignment is to write our life story for our children and our grandchildren. I was born January 29, 1893, in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, County Isabella. January 29, 1893, happened to fall on Sunday. My oldest sister bringing friends home from evening services at church was asked to go to another home. Guy Hernsing was with the group and later when I was married and grown up we were still friends in Detroit. I was born at home in my Mother’s bedroom which was always called the “Parlor Bedroom” since it was next to the

3 parlor. The story goes, as I have often heard it repeated, that Ida Mae, my next older sister, cried and cried when she found out there was another baby. Father in an attempt to comfort her said, “Don’t cry, you will always be Daddy’s baby.” She replied, “Oh! It isn’t that, it’s just another to buy shoes for.” The banks had failed that year and I suppose she had heard talk of a money shortage. Any way it is a family story often repeated, much to Ida Mae’s discomfort. My birth must have been an unexpected surprise for many people. Father and Mother already had a family of five, Edgar Newell, Mary Adeline, Charles Harvey, Clara (called Teddy) and Ida Mae. At the time of my birth Ida Mae was nine years old. Such a wide age difference in age, (Ed was eighteen years old when I was born) caused me to be constantly trying to please seven different people all at once and feeling that I had really pleased no one. My Mothers name was Alice Harnden before her marriage to Charles Cassady. She was born in Boston, Mass., 1852. Having been born rather late in the life of my Father and Mother I never had the pleasure of knowing my grandparents. However, I know something about Clara Newell Brown Harnden. Mother tells of every Saturday night taking an empty bean pot to the bakery then carrying home one filled with delicious beans for their supper. The original pot is displayed in Gretch’s home as well as the glass compote. In a moment of misguided zeal I ruined a tin type of Grand- mother and Grandfather Harnden with their children posed

4 around them. I took the picture to J.L. Hudson in Detroit and they managed to enlarge the parent’s picture so we have that at least. Also a fan shaped decorative silver comb initialed C.N.B. Mother had six very soft silver spoons engraved C.N.B. Each of our family was given one and mine happened to be the one Mother had allowed the Grandchildren to bite on when teething and their little tooth marks show up in the soft silver bowl of the spoon. I know very little about Father and Mothers parents. I suppose by the time I came along they were tired of telling about their younger days. Mother had two brothers, Uncle Will and Uncle Albert Harnden. Aunt Rose was Will’s wife, and I’m ashamed to say I’ve forgotten Uncle Albert’s wife’s name. The family must have at one time moved to Saginaw for Mother had a third interest in the farm just outside of Saginaw. Will and Albert lived beside one another and apparently bought Mother’s share for I seem to remember that we all knew she had what she called a nest egg in the bank. I remember more about Uncle Will than Albert. How sorry I am that I was so heedless. When Aunt Rose died Mother and Father wanted to take Clarence, Uncle Will’s young son. I suppose they didn’t offer to take Will’s daughter because they already had four daughters. However, Uncle Will couldn’t part with Clarence. Uncle Will went on and became most prosperous raising nothing but tomatoes. Quite the “Tomato King.” On one of his visits to a family reunion at Lang Lake (now Lake Fenton) he made a remark that we never let Addie forget. He said, “As far as I can see Addie does the heavy sitting around.” Clarence Harnden grew up on the farm and in later years had

5 a very fine Nursery and I remember on one visit to Fenton he brought shrubs to Ida Mae. For many years he was at the head or manager of the Saginaw County Fair. Will’s daughter was a Secretary to the Sec. of State at Lansing, but I seem at this late date to have lost track but assume they (Will and Albert) have passed away. It is a dreadful thing to allow oneself to lose touch with relatives. I hope if anyone bothers to read this that they will keep track of dates of importance much better than I have. Your Great Grandfather and my Father, Charles Cassady, was born in Nunday, New York State, in 1850. He tells of seeing a torch light parade for Lincoln as a very young boy. (Lincoln served as President from 1861-1865, making Charles Cassady a boy of 11 years at time of seeing the torch light parade.) Perhaps, then was instilled in him the instinct for politics which served him well in later years. Before I go on about Father I must tell you more about Mother your Great Grandmother. She was a small woman with snapping blue eyes. Despite her lack of stature, one look from those blue eyes and you did as you were told. She was sure her husband and children could do anything they set out to do. How encouraging that must have been when my Father was running for the many offices he held. She could do all sorts of fancy work, knit, etc., but she was always frustrated by her inability to do tatting. Consequently I had many nice things edged with tatting that she had hired someone to do for her. When Gertrude Raye (now called Gretch) was a little girl, Mother sent so many dresses as gifts, that by the time she wore all of them she had grown so they had to be altered. She did

6 beautiful needle point and I hope someone will treasure the framed piece of carnations on a black background. Mother knew I loved Lily-of-the Valley and the first year I was married and living in Kittanning, Pa., she packed a box full of flowers on a dampened layer of cotton and mailed them. I have never forgotten that thoughtful act. Gretch lived in Mt. Pleasant with her Grandmother and Grandfather for two winters, and the last year Grandpa kept his Buick running to take his beloved Grandchild to kindergarten. You descendents had wonderful Great Grandparents. And now to get back to Charles Cassady. I know little about his parents and family. He had one sister who had passed away before I was born. When I was about twelve years old he took me with him on a trip to New York State to visit his only living brother. That brother and his wife lived on a farm with little to do with as I remember. The story goes (as I remember) that on the way there we had to stay over night in Buffalo. Father always was very gentle but not very talkative and he seemed to me to be uncertain just what to do. Of course he knew and was only trying to figure out which hotel would be best. But I began to cry and he said, “Oh, I wish Mama was here.” Naturally my sisters and brothers heard about it and teased me unmercifully. Father with his keen sense of humor had to tell it. I remember while we were there at Father’s brother’s home they took us to a very lovely park. Unfortunately my Aunt was not dressed the way I was accustomed to seeing Mother and my sisters look. She had a very large hat with a band of lace hanging down over the brim all around. I cringed at the stares of the people passing by. Even today at eighty seven I still

7 remember my embarrassment. However we were made very welcome, and I remember little of the journey home. I know little of Father’s education. I have an arithmetic book and a reader of his and his love of literature is shown by the bits of poetry he copied in the front and back pages now quite faded. During the last three years of his life we took a recorder and blank records to Fenton where he was in a Nursing home. We started the thing, told Father to say anything he wished to. Much to our surprise he started to quote the passage from Shakespeare which starts, “The quality of mercy is not strained” etc. and quoted the entire speech. He was a great reader perhaps you might call him self educated yet I can’t remember ever asking him a question on any subject that he could not answer. He loved working crossword puzzles and had a remarkable vocabulary. Three days before he died he worked a crossword puzzle and asked help on only one word. God grant me the same ability. I should have tried to write my life history while I still had the ability to write so one could easily read it and while I could remember to spell everything correctly. In Father’s teenage years he was apprenticed to a carriage maker to learn his trade. That was the custom in those days. He became a fine carriage maker and carried on that trade in between his terms in County offices. He held every office in the County ending sixteen years as Judge of Probate and Judge of the Juvenile Court. He retired when he was eighty three years old. My sister Addie, after her husband, Jim Butcher, died went to Mt. Pleasant to be in Father’s office as Register of Probate

8 and lived with her parents. One time after Mother had died, Dick and I went to Mt. Pleasant for one spring vacation. At that time Isabella County had a Prohibition Law, no liquor being sold. For that reason we took a fifth of whiskey to Father. As we were sitting around the dining room table, Addie asked Dick to come with her and help make eggnog. Father, being deaf heard none of the preparations. As we went into the living room Addie brought the eggnog in and told Father to drink this, “I did not want any milk,” he said, but we all insisted that he drink it. Reluctantly he took one swallow, looked up, and said, “Lord, what a cow!” I have told that story over and over. Finally he sold our old home and came to live with us, an honored and beloved quest. Father and Mother were living in Shepard, Mich., when he was first elected to a County Office. Mother heard the outcome of the election when a friend brought the news on horse back. You people cannot remember no telephones nor can I. But the story is true. When Mother and Father moved to Mt. Pleasant they built a nine room house on half of a block on the corner of Fancher Ave. and Michigan St. The house faced Fancher Ave. but at that time no paved street but a street that seemed merely a path. Where the High School now stands were woods and a small pond. By the time I came along in 1893 there was the High School a block away and an orderly street lined with lovely Maple trees, and in our yard fruit trees planted one each for the birth of each child. Mine was a Cherry tree and your Grandfather Dickerson and my husband insists the first time he remembers seeing me I was up in that Cherry tree. The very first recollection I have of anything is of a white

9 fence enclosing our yard, and, of an Indian Squaw with a huge bundle of baskets slung over her shoulder, coming up to our gate. I was in the yard with Ida Mae and she told me not to say “Ba sho” to the Indian or something dreadful would happen. What fun my brother and sisters must have had with a child so much younger than they were. Sometime along the way the fence was removed but I do not remember when. However I do remember rushing to the parlor window to see if, hopefully, the High School had burned down during the night. Particularly when I had no lesson prepared. To this day I remember the fragrance of the sweet grass baskets that Mother used to buy from the Indians. They made all sorts of baskets and carried them, as I said before, in a sheet sling over their shoulder. There were quite a number of Indians around Mt. Pleasant and a Government Indian School on a large farm a few miles in the country. Some of the families sent their children to Public School even to High school. I remember one boy, Howard Petosky, who was supposed to be the son of an Indian Chief. Another by the name of Anna Chickum was in 5th grade with me. Anna was a big girl and one of the more unfortunate ones. From the time of my birth until I was twenty five, Father was on the Board of Supervisors. His letter head stated, Superintendent of the Poor, how many times I saw the poor and disabled sitting patiently at our dining room table, watching Father write out a grocery order for them. One of the more unfortunate Indians was the Chickum family. They were so grateful to Father, Mr. Cassady that when a new papoose came into being, he was named “Cassady Chickum”. I not only remember the Indians I remember how we

10 celebrated holidays particularly Fourth of July, Decoration Day as we called it and Christmas, that was the very best. I will not go into detail about Christmas for one of my papers in reminiscent writing tells all about it. Fourth of July! What a time we had! Money saved for weeks for fireworks. Father took the spoke of a wheel made an indentation in it just large enough to hold a fire cracker or a Roman Candle. What excitement! All the neighbors gathered at our house. Chairs were placed on the lawn and as soon as it was dark the fun began. After the excitement died down Mother served Lemonade and cookies and it was over with for another year. “Decoration Day” as we called Memorial Day was celebrated much differently than is now the custom. Always a parade in which many school children marched. The parade ended in the cemetery. Then we listened to a speech, though, as children we did not understand it. However, it gave us the feeling that this was an important day. I regret that now the day passes with little attention paid by many to the significance of the day. Customs change. Remarking that customs change I will add a few more details not mentioned in my paper written for Reminiscence Writing Class. I left out several details for fear of boring the other members of the class. We always had to read our papers. My paper was titled, “No Longer a Mystery” about Christmas. In the year of my childhood the tree was lighted by tiny wax candles held in a clip which fastened them to the Christmas tree. Father always has a large pail of water ready if there was any danger of fire. A far cry now from the more sophisticated lighting used today.

11 Some of the ways we passed our leisure time are told in another paper written for the reminiscence class so I will not repeat here. However I still can see in my mind the house where I was born and lived until I was married. Father sold the house almost fifty years to the day of moving in the newly built house. Ed was born in Sheperd but the other five children were born in the house in Mr. Pleasant. My sister Addie was teaching in the Kinney School as I entered the first grade. There was no kindergarten then. I remember my first grade teacher Miss Wilson, sister-in-law of the then Superintendent. I must have loved her very much as well as Miss Weed my third grade teacher. I also remember my fifth grade teacher who wore her hair in a bun on top of her head. Unfortunately the bun slipped off one day and fell to the floor, much to the delight of her students. I can always remember the funny things that have happened in my life. Of course I remember sad things as well. A rather peculiar coincidence happened in regard to Miss Wilson. After my first year of teaching in the Detroit schools I went back to Mt. Pleasant for a refresher course in reading. What was my surprise to find an older Miss Wilson as my instructor. She must have been very young when I had her in first grade. The first day in class she wrote the word “prestidigitator” on the board and asked if anyone knew how to pronounce it and what it meant. I raised my hand, not realizing that I was the only person who had volunteered. I said it was someone who did magic tricks and pronounced it correctly. So why do I still at eighty seven remember my embarrassment at being the only one who knew? It may give you an insight to my character,

12 part introvert, part extrovert. A bold exterior hiding a slight timidity. My first day in school was no doubt made easier because of the feeling of protection I had because my sister Addie was there. Throughout my life she has or rather was like a second Mother to me. The Kinney School held the first five grades and was located in the far east end of town. When you entered the sixth grade you attended the Maple St. School for grades six, seven, and eight. The Maple St. School was at the far west end of town which meant we carried a lunch and ate in one room with no supervision a far cry from schools today where teachers have lunch room duty. The school was near what we called the Mill Pond. The Chippewa River dammed up making a large pond perfect for skating in the winter. We used to take our skates to school and when grown up enough to be in the 8th grade some boy who “kind of liked you” would carry your skates and help you on with them. That of course allowed him the right to skate with you. Such good times I can remember. Simple fun one probably thinks now but we truly had fun. Three or four would join hands and skate from the Mill Pond away up the river. Could I make any one who reads this believe that I still remember and can quote a poem I learned in the 8th grade. I can’t recall the name of my 8th grade teacher but she had the most beautiful auburn hair. I also remember playing the piano for the rest of the class to march out at recess and morning and afternoon dismissal. I remember the name of one girl that I pushed into a small

13 iced over puddle. She slapped me and that was the end of that friendship though she lived but a block away. Another girl I liked, Fanny Westfall, my Mother refused to ever let me go to her house. No reason, just forbidden to go. After I was grown up I found out the reason. One of the owners of a dry goods store made deliveries of goods to Fanny’s dressmaker mother and lingered too long much to the neighbors dislike. Oh! spicy things went on but as children we were very much shielded and kept in ignorance. Now a days T.V. cures that ignorance and I simply can’t decide whether that if good or bad. Roller skating was something we all enjoyed. Since the roller rink was owned by the father of one of my best friends we were all allowed to go there. However my parents refused ever to let me go there at night no matter how I teased to go. Louise Trevegno could go at night because her father owned and supervised the place. The rest of our crowd had to be content with skating in the afternoon. But it was at that time in our lives when twelve girls formed a friendship and closed crowd that endured long after most of us were married and had children of our own. More of this later. I can’t remember who taught me to dance. I know there was no place in Mt. Pleasant where dancing was taught. So, I assume my older sisters and brothers taught me though time has dimmed my recollection of that. But time has not dimmed my love of music and dance though my poor arthritic body must allow only watching from a side line. However I still recall how much I enjoyed roller skating to music. I believe we kept on skating both ice and roller way beyond our grade school days. As I entered high school I no longer had to walk to the far

14 end of town. As I have mentioned before the high school was just a block away from my home. It was built in the middle of a whole block with lovely old trees dotted around the lawn. I was twelve years old when I entered high school. Too young I now realize to master biology, chemistry, and geometry which I hated anyway-any exact science or mathematics leaves me cold. I always had a passing grade but how I did it I shall never know. I liked literature, music and the lighter subjects, though really I never failed in anything. The high school teachers who were not married lived next door at the Maxwell home so we knew them socially though whether that mattered or not is a question. One day, a nice summer or spring day, word went around before the bell for the afternoon session rang that we were all to just stay as we were seated on the lawn. So there we sat, motionless and the bell rang and rang, no movement. Finally the superintendent came out walked over to one of the least popular boy, surrounded by his friends, and told them to stand up and go into the school. That did it and like sheep we all followed. What a smart move the Superintendent made. Another beautiful spring say eight or ten of us, your grandfather among them decided to skip the afternoon session. Our timing as slightly off for Miss Converse our English teacher, came past my home before I managed to put in an appearance. She asked my Mother if Gertrude was sick, so I was caught before I got home. My one and only time I skipped school. In the high school at that time all grades gathered in a large assembly hall for a study time between classes. The freshmen in front seats the sophomore next, then junior and at the back of

15 the hall the lordly seniors. Lucile Hagen sat near me and the desire to talk was too much for us and as a result even though we were seniors the teacher moved us down among the freshmen as a punishment. He could hardly do anything else to two grown up girls. Lucile was one of twelve girls, a group which hung together through high school, college and even after some of us were married and had children. We called the group “A Supper Club” copying after our Mothers who also had a “Supper Club.” Within the group of twelve, smaller and more intimate friendships were formed. Lucile Hagen, Louise Newberry together with me formed a friendship which lasted until Lucile and Louise were no longer with us. When I married and went to Kittanning, Pa., with Dick, Louise Newberry came out and stayed three months and during that time Lucile came and stayed six weeks. We enjoyed being together and they thought of Dick as a big brother. I am glad I have pleasant memories to look back upon. To get back to my high school days. I still remember the teacher I had for two years of German. She was a tiny, quiet, little person and in my minds eye I can still see her sitting quietly at her desk with down cast eyes, her long lashes quivering on her cheeks, waiting for us to stop our boisterous behavior. That is all she ever did for discipline but it worked. I also had two years of Latin to the same English teacher Miss Converse, who had caused my Mother to find out I had skipped school. Looking back at my young days I have come to the conclusion that I had a very wise Father and Mother. Our

16 house always seemed to be the “gathering place” for all of my friends. I don’t see how the parlor carpet lasted under so many dancing feet. I taught so many high school boys how to dance. I remember counting for them, one, two, three, one, two, three, as they learned to waltz. But who taught me? I can’t remember. We had a good many formal dances where one wore a “party dress” and long white kid gloves! Imagine! But the ones we enjoyed the most were the Friday night informals. After a “pot luck” supper, Harry French the piano player at the movie would bring a drummer and violin and it was all the music we needed. Chaperoned by several mothers we danced and did not feel we were being deprived of anything. To this day I don’t know who paid Harry and the others but I am sure they did not give their time for nothing. Long after I was married and living in Detroit Phoebe and Glenn Ettenger went to Mt. Pleasant on a business trip. While there they met and talked to the youngest Crapo boy. The Crapos owned a farm implement store and evidently he was a boy I had taught to dance. He asked about me and told them he remembered so well when I had taught him to dance and now or even then I couldn’t remember him. When I told Gretch, my daughter, that I was writing my life story she told me to be sure and put in the spicy things. The only “spicy” thing I can remember about the dances is when Zeta Termott lost her pants in the full view of everyone. The poor child stood up to dance and down dropped her pants. Some thoughtful soul quickly turned out the lights and I never did find out whether she stepped out of them or pulled them back on.

17 However, it was a seven day wonder for a long time. Sunday the girls always seemed to be at my house. How often my father threatened to take out our telephone because the boys all knew where to find the girls and one by one each girl would be called to the phone being asked for a date that night. Is it any wonder father threatened? We probably were making too much noise to hear the telephone ring so father and mother had to answer. When it was suggested that we write our life stories we were told to include the bad times and disappointments as well as the good times. So I shall tell you that I have had hay fever since I was twelve years old. I also had a severe case of eczema at the time we realized that instead of a bad cold, I had hay fever. The hay fever was bad enough but eczema only on my hands was almost more than I could bear. It took all my courage to appear at school with bandaged hands. For the time it was at its worse I always wore gloves to the dances. I must say this for my friends, I never suffered for lack of partners. I wish I had saved some of the programs we always had at formal parties. When I started being Dick’s only girl friend he always put his name in for all the waltz’s. At the bottom of the program the words extra was printed and that meant two or three extra dances beside the ones printed on the program. If a boy was not able to put his name opposite one of the regularly programmed he put his name for an extra. Believe it or not I often had to divide the extras and dance half of it with one and half with another. I know that sounds as if I was bragging but we were told to write it as it was.

18 Looking back on my youth I realize how loyal all my friends were. Eczema or not I went every place the others went. The bandaged period did not last too long but all my life I have not been able to have my hands in water to scrub etc. without trouble. To add to my other woes I have been troubled with asthma at various times. The family tells me that father was not expected to live to see me for he had a severe case of asthma. But he survived as I have but I have often remarked that I would not wish asthma and hay fever on my bitterest enemy. But I do feel guilty because grandsons Steven and Dick have hay fever and I fear I am to blame. In writing about high school days I must refer again to the twelve girls who were close friends and I fear a bit snobbish. In a paper I wrote for our writing class on “Emotion,” I made mention of the three tallest girls your Grandfather Dickerson dated. He finally decided on me and you can read that paper about how it all started. Twice In our high school days Dick had a leading role in The Mikado and the senior play Our American Cousin, incidentally the play at which President Lincoln was assassinated. Dick was one grade ahead of me, so I was only in The Mikado. He had a wonderful voice. It was after a rehearsal of the senior play that he took me home. You can read the outcome in the paper I wrote for class. Item: Read paper titled “Emotion.” Dick graduated from high school in 1909 and I graduated in 1910. We of course had class pins but somewhere along the line they were lost. I remember my graduating dress had rows and rows of lace inserted in very fine white material and I am

19 ashamed to say I remember very little else. I know I received graduation gifts but the only things I remember are an opal ring with five small opals and a Cameo pin from my sister Addie which I still have. You are probably wondering how we had any fun without cars, televisions, radio, electric lights and in my early years a telephone. I can’t remember having no telephone so it must have been put in when I was very young. The house was lighted by gas lights until Louise Newberry’s father moved to Mt. Pleasant from Chicago and by some means of which I have no remembrance provided the town with electric power. Then the gas lights were discarded. I can remember as a little girl seeing my first automobile. A doctor in town bought a rather small red car and everyone rushed to the door to see it speeding down the street at probably the wild speed of twenty miles an hour. Little then did I think I would ever drive from Detroit to Three Rivers at seventy miles an hour. My sister Addie’s husband, Jim Butcher, had one of the first cars in Owasso where they lived. They drove up to Mt. Pleasant which was a daring adventure then. Everywhere we went in the car crowds gathered around where ever we parked. No one thought of driving anywhere without a huge veil drawn over their hat and tied under their chin. Men wore what was called dust coats, caps, and goggles OH! that was really something!! Two people in our crowd owned cars. Bob Weidman one of Dick’s best friends and son of the town banker. Lucile Hagen, my best friend, daughter of the owner of Hagen’s Dry Goods Store, so I had many an adventure in “that new contraption.”

20 Roads were not paved in the beginning of the auto era. On one trip, when Gretch was about five years old, we had great difficulty. On our drive from Mt. Pleasant back to Detroit somewhere near Alma there were two utterly impossible deep mud holes all across the road. At each place farmers stood at the side of the road and for five dollars hitched their horses to the car and helped us on our way. Good that we happened to have an extra ten dollars. I have always remembered what Gretch said as she bounced around on the back seat of the car. She surprised me by saying, “The roads in Grandpa Cassady’s county aren’t bad like this.’ One of the things we all enjoyed both in our high school and college years was canoeing on the Chippewa River. Several of the boys owned canoes, your Grandfather in that group. Almost every Sunday Louise Newberry, Merle Palmer, Dick, and I canoed up the river to a good spot for our picnic lunch. The menu always the same: hamburger to fry over the fire, sliced boiled potatoes to fry, salad, and desert previously prepared at home. The one rule our parents made, home before dark. There were two places in the river that required skill in the management of the canoe. Two very swift rapids. We always seemed to make it alright but many a canoe overturned with an unexpected bath for the occupants. Dick’s name has been mentioned many times in this story but I must not leave you with the impression that he was the only boy in my life. Ken Jamison, son of one of our towns lawyers, beaued me around to dances etc. as well as several others, just young boy and girl affairs with nothing in mind but a good partner to dance or skate with. However there was a

21 group of boys who somehow always seemed to meet at my house every Saturday morning. None of them would think of asking me for a date. Oh! yes! they always danced and skated with me and were wonderful friends I always thought they came because my Mother always made a batch of hermits and sugar cookies on Saturday. When Dick began to really see me he would call up and ask if the kindergarten was there and then ask me for a date. He was all of two or three years older than the kindergarten and me. That allowed him to be superior. At last high school days were over and I faced college days. It was a foregone conclusion that I would attend Central Michigan College because it was located there in Mt. Pleasant. It is now called Central Michigan University. My brother Ed. was President of the first graduating class after it was established. Byron Rivett from Shepherd lived with us and was Vice President. He later became Principal of Northwestern High School in Detroit and still remembered me though I must have been very young then when they graduated for I have no remembrance of any of their “doings.” Ed. after being Superintendent of the schools in Pewamo went to Brook- field, Ill., and remained there as Superintendent for forty years. He had married Clara Saunders soon after his graduation and I remember their wedding because “what do you think?” it was the first time I ever ate an olive! Isn’t that a silly thing to remember? I have digressed from news of my college days but I have to write as things come to my mind. I entered Central Michigan in the fall of 1910. To show you how heedless I have sometimes been I cannot remember how

22 much tuition had to be paid. I know only that it must have been paid. I know my father was not what one would call wealthy but money always seemed there when needed and I never felt deprived of anything. Dick entered college that same fall. He had gone to work in Gorhams basket factory right after his high school graduation a year before mine. Mr. Tainbling, Head of the Physical Training Department, sought him out and persuaded him to enter Central. I don’t think it was an Athletic Scholarship, if it was I knew nothing of it. Things were different “way back when”. It was that summer before entering Central that Addie and Jim sent their two boys Nardin and Charles to Mt. Pleasant together with a huge tent hoping that we would take them up the river camping. Somewhere we got another tent so we had quite an elegant camp. One tent to sleep in, one to cook and eat in. Louise Newberry, Charles Nardin and Mother and I camped for two weeks. Merle Palmer (one of the Saturday kindergartens) but now accepted camped with Dick about a block away from us. Of course they ate with us. Both boys worked and after work at late afternoon canoed up the river with ice and the groceries we needed. Every night a big camp fire, Dick playing his guitar and singing songs that always amused the little boys. I wish you could have seen our bathing suits. Mine was made of blue serge with a skirt over bloomers, bathing cap, and even bathing shoes. It is a wonder I didn’t sink upon entering the water. A far cry from that suit to a bikini. That fall I took the Music and Art course and Dick Industrial Arts. I have been asked what particular instructor influenced

23 me most. In that era I think there was not as much concern shown for our well being as is now seemingly the main object. I liked very much a woman who taught Harmony but to this day I remember two whom I disliked. I had several classes to the Head of the Art Dept. One of the projects she ordered us to hand in was a History of Art notebook. I worked long hours on mine. At that time we were marked Poor, Medium, Good, Excellent. When my notebook came back it was marked G++. If that wasn’t an E what does two pluses mean. I even remember her name. Middle aged but Miss Wightman. Another physical Ed. teacher I remember well. Another older Miss Vroman. We were lined up in rows one day in the gym. The rule was that our corsets must be removed. Miss Vroman dashed down the row towards me and clasped her two hands around my waist. She found that I had obeyed the rule. It really wasn’t my fault that I had a small waist. If it were only true now! Both Dick and I sang in the college chorus, Dick, with his fine voice in the bass section and I with my (not so fine voice) with the second sopranos. I sang in the Episcopal choir for as long back as I can remember. Mr. Maybee was the Head of the Music Dept. and also Dick’s voice coach. I studied with the Harmony instructor whom I liked very much but her name escapes me. Mr. Maybee wanted Dick to make music his life work but he seemed to be more than satisfied with the Industrial Arts. One year Mr. Maybee imported a Symphony Orchestra to accompany the college chorus. We had been working on the oratorio The Messiah all one semester and it was quite an

24 ambitious endeavor. You probably know that particular work contains the Magnificent Hallelujah chorus. When it was first played back in ancient times, the audience was so moved by its magnificence that they all rose as a body. Ever after every audience listening to the Hallelujah Chorus is supposed to rise. That was the first time I had ever heard or, seen a symphony orchestra and I was fascinated and thrilled at the sight and sound. That probably seems strange to you people. Remember what advantages you have, with the flick of the wrist you can turn on radio or T.V. and hear many famous orchestras. A rather amusing or strange thing happened to us long after we were married. We were attending a concert in the Redford High School auditorium where Gretch was in attendance. The orchestra started to play “The Hallelujah Chorus” and of course we stood up. Much to our amazement and also the conductors we were the only ones standing. He stopped the music, turned to the audience and explained to them the reason for standing. Then he conducted the orchestra and they then played to a standing audience. Again, I was embarrassed to be the only one standing just as I was in the reading class when I was the only one who knew the word prestidigitator. Figure the reason out for yourself. I am at a loss to know why. I do not need to bore you by telling you about all the courses I took. You all know the basic required subjects and since I was taking Music and Art I had many subjects pertaining to Art and Music. I am much in favor of a college education for every one. But I think college should come one year later after graduation from High School. One year of working for wages could determine the course you would like to follow. However, I think there is no way to count the advantage of a College

25 education. You are introduced to many cultural subjects not usually pursued by one self alone. I always seemed to have an early morning class and since my family lived about a mile from Central I walked many winter days in snow before the snow plow cleared the way. In one of my class papers on “Changing Fashions” you get some idea how we dressed Imagine! Long underwear! I remember my first formal dress. It was lavender silk with touches of gold. Spring and Fall a dressmaker appeared and stayed a week or two doing all the sewing needed. Fortunately she had a flair for style as did my mother. But the dressmaker’s grammar left much to be desired. And being the kind of a person I am who can remember things if they touch my sense of humor I have never forgotten her reply when questioned about her desire to move to another house. She said she was not going to move because “Rents have tooken a flown” believe it or not. My family was great at remembering some funny remark and then it became strictly a family joke which no one else understood. With no automobile, or public transportation, to take us to and from formal dances, we all carried our dancing pumps in what we called an Evening Bag. Mine was black velvet embroidered with a big yellow C. Dick and I graduated in the summer of 1912. I can’t remember why it was in the summer rather in the spring. I know all the rest of my intimate friends were in the same class. I also know we were not making up a credit for none of us had failed any subject. We did not have caps and gowns as we do now. But the usual ceremony: a speaker, music, walking across the stage as

26 we received our diploma, etc. I must include in this story some things about your grandfather, for some, your great grandfather. He was what they now call a “Big Man on Campus,” an outstanding athlete, Captain of all the teams, Football, Basketball and Baseball. Of all of the teams he was the star Basketball player and I had many a proud and happy moment watching him play. Mr. Tambling Head of the Physical Education Department certainly was highly rewarded when he persuaded Dick to enter Central. I have often thought how different my life would have been if Dick had continued in the factory for I would have married him factory worker or not. Dick belonged to the fraternity Sigma Upsilon Psi. I did not belong to a sorority because of my parents firm refusal never explained. But I might as well have belonged for I went every where with them and always an invitation from both to their big spring party at which the girls invited their escorts. I never felt left out but always wished I could understand why my parents were so strict about many things. I guess it was at that time I formed the habit of not asking too many questions. I never got an answer anyway. I hope I have not dwelled too much on the frivolous side of High School and College. We studied and studied hard and I knew of no one of my friends who failed a subject. And now college days were over and the world beckoned. Dick accepted a position in Kittanning Pa. as Industrial Arts Teacher and Coach of Basketball. My parents did not want me to go away from home since marriage to Dick was in the cards. Since I was the only one of their children at home I suppose my parents wanted to put off my leaving as long as possible.

27 Dick left for Kittanning the Fall of 1912. No date as yet had been decided on for our marriage we knew only it was an assured fact. I hope you will read the paper I wrote about “Emotion” (Note I have mentioned the paper on Emotion before). It tells of our very first special meeting and our continuing romance. Modern girls and boys do not have a corner on romance. I “remember when” very clearly. Letters flew almost daily between Kittanning and Mt. Pleasant. Finally Dick decided he was too lonesome in a strange and different situation and would I consider a Christmas wedding when he came home Christmas vacation. You can imagine my reply. And so we were married on Dec. 18th 1912. I was nineteen years old and Dick three years older. In January I was twenty so part of the year Dick was only two years older. We had a simple home wedding under a huge white Christmas bell in a decorated corner of the large parlor. Dick had made tiny shelves only large enough to hold two glass candle sticks. These we fastened on the walls of the parlor and living room. The shelves covered with smilax, a green bushy vine much used then but seemingly no longer in existence. We collected all the candlesticks we could find and the house glowed with lovely soft candle light as our marriage vows were spoken. My entire family was there together with friends who were in town at the time. Leah Hunter sang “I Love You Truly” and “Oh! Promise Me.” Lucile Kagen came over from Shepherd where she was teaching and several of the twelve girls who had stayed a closed group thru all the years were there. The same twelve so frequently mentioned had each had their

28 name engraved on a sterling silver spoon the twelfth spoon engraved “Supper Club” Dick’s fraternity gave him a set of salad forks engraved with the fraternity insignia. So all our lives we have had a constant reminder of our friendships. Friendships which continued for many years for many of us eventually lived in Detroit. In fact Louise Trevegno after her marriage lived next door to us and Louise Newberry was living with us at the time of our daughter’s birth. We spent the rest of Dick’s Christmas vacation between Ionia and Detroit. Ionia where the rest of Dick’s family lived and had not been able to get away from their work at such a busy season. I must not leave the subject of our marriage without adding that we had many lovely gifts. Silverware, money, linens, etc. At the last moment of our departure Father handed me a five dollar gold piece which I kept for a long, long time. Also one rather unhappy note. Two days before our marriage, I completely lost my voice. I suppose due to nervous tension. However I managed a rather husky “I do,” not to lose the one and only man in my life. My sister Addie, from Detroit, had on a beautiful dress with a long train and in the excitement of the congratulation and best wishes, my brother Harvey stepped on it, not noticing -until Addie had to mention it to him. It grieves me at eighty seven that I can and do remember so many things that touch my sense of humor. I wish I could be much more serious, which I think I should be at my advanced age. Do please remember me as really keeping up with the times. I want to know what is going on in the world. I want to know

29 about politics who is who etc., I want to look my best as well as one can with time having taken it’s way. I suppose I am writing like this because I am thinking and remembering “when I was young.” Back now to the new adventure embarked upon. Life as the wife of Professor Dickerson as they always called him in Kittanning Pa. He had been rooming and boarding in a private home and they had kindly consented to keep both of us. Several either teachers came in for meals so we soon had good friends. And I had very little to do but I can’t remember that time hung heavy. I have always loved to read and the day was shortened by Dick’s arrival for lunch and soon after athletes practice for dinner. We must have arrived in Kittanning Saturday night for I remember the first place Dick ever took me was the cemetery on Sunday. You no doubt think it an unusual place to escort a new bride, there was a reason. The cemetery was in the foot hills of the Allegheny Mountains and we had a wonderful view of the surrounding country. That was one reason why Dick wanted me to go there, the other was different. Neither of us had ever seen R.I.P. carved on the headstones of the graves. It must have been a very old cemetery. I think I would much rather have “Rest In Peace”, every word carved out, than R.I.P. for I can think only of the word rip. I stumbled along beside Dick, learning to walk on uneven brick sidewalks which I had never encountered before. I wore a three and a half size shoe, though I was five and one half feet tall and I always blame the three years of walking on uneven side walks for the increase in my shoe size and undoubtedly, life has pounded down my five and a half feet. Dick was six

30 feet one and a half in his stocking feet so slightly taller when he was measured in his shoes. I think this is a good place to stop and tell of your grandfather’s looks. He was a handsome young man. Tall, dark and handsome, as the saying goes. He became more handsome as life etched character to his face. He, of course, was built like an athlete, and though as he grew older pounds were added he still retained a fine figure and wore clothes with a style all his own. Unfortunately he gradually lost some of his hair and became slightly bald though it never seemed to detract from his looks and he never seemed to care one way or another and I certainly didn’t either. And now back to our life in Kittanning as newlyweds. We lived in the private home where I came as a bride to be with Dick, until due to a death in their family all of us who boarded and roomed there had to find other quarters. It was nearing the close of school for summer vacation so we moved into a small furnished apartment. There are two things I still remember about that apartment. A natural gas fireplace which when lighted gave off a most disagreeable odor which more or less sickened me. And it was there I tried to do my first washing using a wash board. Some of you who may read this have probably never seen a washboard and I hope you never do. (Item: Read my paper written for class on a remembered smell). You will know then how as a girl I hated the odors of wash day when Mrs. Langly came to do our washing at home. Never the less I was going to be a good wife for Dick if it killed me and it almost did. I scrubbed sheets and pillow cases,

31 Dick’s shirts and what have you! And the whole thing ended up by Dick having to call the doctor. So my arms were bandaged from wrist to shoulder with an evil smelling lotion applied by a gruff old doctor who could scarcely keep his smiles hidden. So that ended my attempts at washing by hand until later of course I did many a washing with a washing machine. Please don’t get the idea that I never worked very much for I have, and how! Summer came and we returned to Mr. Pleasant and a welcoming home it was. The old home needed a new roof so Dick spent most of the summer putting new shingles on the roof and painting the house so when we left to go back to Kittanning in the fall the house looked better than ever to us and it was a sober pair of newlyweds leaving again. We had, of course, been with our old friends and had had many a good time. Kinney and Hazel were married when we had come back to Mt. Pleasant in the Spring. Kinney Lewis had a car and we spent many a pleasant evening riding around the country roads. But now back to the business of being Professor Dickerson. Dick had had such a successful year in coaching basketball that he had defeated Ford City (Kittanning’s deadly rival) every time they played. I, of course, had never witnessed such rivalry nor such actions in a crowd. Much to my dismay at the first Ford City-Kittanning game I saw men with a flask of whiskey in their coat pocket with a straw sticking out and a “swig” taken often. I was dismayed! That first year the spectators would crowd out on the floor until the players scarcely could play and nothing seemed to be

32 done to stop them. But that was soon stopped when at Dick’s request they put up stout steel screening between the playing floor and bleachers. Ford City had tried to hire Dick away from Kittanning and failing that had asked him to recommend a coach from Central Michigan. So Dick recommended Glen Ettinger whose father and mother were friends of my father and mother. Glen had been with Dick all through grade school up to college years. He also was a basket ball player on the same team with Dick. Dick played jumping center but also always seemed to shoot more baskets than the others. That is the reason I called him a star athlete, as did every one. Glen was hired so we traveled together and the fact that the two coaches were friends never seemed to dim the rivalry between the two towns. Glen did a fine job of coaching but never seemed to be able to win. The Kittanning team always beat Ford City much to the joy of the town. The next day after a victory, great black headlines announced the victory. If the paper was late in being delivered any day Dick always said the editors were waiting for something to happen. All this time as Dick worked with his team he was also teaching Industrial Arts classes as was Glenn at Ford City. Ford City had the largest glass factory in the U.S.A. and one Saturday we decided to go through the factory. Our guides started us at the most remote entrance and I shall never behold a picture of Dante’s Inferno more vivid than my introduction to glass making. A huge barn of a place with earth on floors, great trolley above with huge buckets of molten glass cascading down onto huge tables. I was so frightened that I backed away towards the entrance

33 much to the delight of the guide. Next were the furnaces where the sand and whatever was turned into molten glass, running out of a small opening at the bottom of the furnace. Men, naked to the waist, their bodies glistening with sweat, were furiously shoveling coal into the red hot interior. How happy I was that my husband had a nice, clean, cool job. I won’t bore you with all the different processes until at last the glass blowers and makers of cut glass displayed every type of glass you can imagine. How heedlessly we accept beauty without thinking of the labor used in the creation of it. Our second year we again had a furnished apartment. A great barn of a place on the fourth floor of apartments above the National Bank on the main corner of downtown Kittanning. One advantage, the woman who rented the apartment to us left a piano for our enjoyment. It was there we celebrated our first Christmas without our families. I had bought Dick’s present in Mt. Pleasant, a beautiful very thin watch the only decoration being his initials O.R.D. beautifully intertwined, engraved on the back of the watch together with a watch chain, a small gold knife to slip in his vest pocket and anchor the chain. Vests were very much “in” in those days. Steven Stuckey, my oldest grandson, has it now unless he has lost it. Jan Stuckey, Steven’s wife, has my Mother’s beautiful watch to be worn with a chain or pin. Well! Christmas Eve came and we intended to open our presents in the morning but I couldn’t wait to see Dick’s reaction to his gift, I had taken the package into the bedroom and could wait no longer. Dick was extremely surprised and pleased. It was his first watch and one he carried the rest of his life.

34 I am going to name my gifts from Dick for it will show a contrast when I write of other times not quite so happy. Dick had bought all of the Haviland china in the design he liked, that the store had. Six dinner plates, 6 cups and saucers, six salad plates, a platter, a beautiful covered tureen, and open vegetable dish, a beautiful, tall, cutglass compote, a cut glass creamer, and sugar bowl. With all the gifts Dick has given me I can think of no Christmas any happier even though far away from family and old friends. It was while we were living in this apartment that many of the men teachers were often with us for meals. And again I have remembered all these years a remark that Mr. Roberts made after eating some of a lemon pie I had made. Yes! We called him Mr. in my youth every one was not called by their first name. Mr. Roberts said he could think of no better fate than to be placed in the center of one of Mrs. D’s lemon pies condemned to eat his way out. One of the nicest compliments I have ever received. The elevator in the building was operated by a darling old man who immediately seemed to take us “under his wing,” as it were. Interested in our comings and goings, glad when mail came for us, excited and elated when Dick’s team won. Missing our parents as we did, I think we enjoyed him as a father figure. Since we did not know too many people we had plenty of leisure time. We whiled away the hours, sometimes, by buying the card deck from one or another and then getting five cents for every card we got up to build upon. I eventually won seven dollars and went right out and bought a new hat. The elevator

35 man rejoiced with me. He probably thought of us then as I do when talking to the girls and boys just fresh from college* How young! How young! and to myself I say, “Oh! to be fifty again”. Again we were forced to move because the Masons who had the top floor wished to have the third and fourth floor for their use. The woman who had sublet to us also had to move. We then, you might say, retreated to the hills. The town had only about four blocks of level property, then the hills arose. We found another apartment in the private home of a widowed lady who made us most welcome. The house was built quite close to the street. Going out the back door you walked through a place like a hall with a stout rock wall holding back the back yard, a steep hill, from pushing the house into the street. The property was probably about an acre the hill zooming up to the turnpike the back line of her land higher than the house. Many a cold winter night a group of us would be driven perhaps two or three miles up the turn pike. Then getting on the toboggan we coasted down, down, until we stopped in the main street of town. I was always afraid of that last wild ride for we crossed a railroad track and nothing could have stopped us. Fortunately we never met a train. All this time of many moves which never seemed to bother us, Dick had been designing and making our first furniture. Your Grandfather was a man of many talents Artistic, a master of fine design. Perhaps somewhere the black walnut four poster he made is still in existence and I know the Steven Stuckey’s had the chest of drawers made by my father who was also talented.

36 Now a new apartment building was being built and having some of our furniture ready when we came back in the fall we rented an apartment and furnished it with our own furniture. I shall have to go back now to tell of one more incident that happened in the downtown apartment. Dick called me from school one morning to tell me he was bringing the Superintendent of one of the towns where his team had played and defeated them every year both on their court and the return game in Kittanning. I hurriedly set the table with our best linen and Haviland and did the best I could at short notice to provide a nice lunch. Everything arranged for Dick to serve. Sitting down, there seemed to be a rather long silence. Looking up I saw Dick give me a rather sympathetic look and he quietly said, “The plates, dear.” I know now that it was no great tragedy but at the time it was a bad moment for me! I am sure the older man was all sympathy for a flustered hostess. Anyway he offered Dick a position at an increase in salary but Kittanning was not about to lose Dick. They gave him a three year contract with a substantial raise each year. More of this contract later. Before we left Kittanning Dick’s team had won the championship of the state of Pennsylvania. The last team he had to defeat was the champion team of Pittsburgh. Needless to say it was a wildly exciting night and I was glad steel screening held the crowd back. The whole city seemed to go mad over the basket ball games. Much more so than over football or baseball. I seem to be writing uphill and downdale but remember I am eighty seven years old and I’m sure I will be ninety before I finish this saga. The story of a life filled with happiness but

37 with my full share of sorrow and disappointment. The fall that we returned again from vacation in Mt. Pleasant, I did not return with Dick. I had hay fever and it was thought best that Dick get things organized in the new apartment. Our first separation, endured as we had to endure others, but not willingly. I stayed in Mt. Pleasant during the month of September because of my hay fever and returned to a newly furnished apartment. I had sent on the chest of drawers my father had made. It was one piece of a three piece set father had made. Mother kept the bed and dresser till Father sold the house and contents. Then Ida Mae had the dresser and when she died, Jane, her daughter gave it to me. There are a few things I hope will never go out of the families care. Perhaps that is wishful thinking because they mean so much to me. Sometime in late winter Louise Newberry arrived to visit. While she was there Lucile Hagen came for a six weeks visit. What a good time we had. I launched my first serious effort at real entertaining by giving a tea to introduce the girls to our friends. I presume it was successful for I have no remembrance except that we enjoyed it. Glenn Ettinger, teaching and coach of basketball at Ford City, four miles away, joined us often for we were all schoolmates. When Lucile for some reason had to go home after six weeks she teased and pleaded with Louise N. to go home with her so she would not have to travel alone. But Louise would not go until her visit ended at three months. Even then we did not want her to leave. How many times in the years following

38 she was with us. That year saw us doing a bit more socially for we were becoming acquainted with more people and being invited here and there. The elderly Superintendent of schools had a very young pretty wife and they seemed to like us very much. We were constantly being invited to join them. In fact that thanksgiving day we entertained them at the hotel for dinner. I shall never forget Mrs. Goodwin’s exasperated comment to poor Mr. G. who was not too careful at the dining table. She was unable to overlook his trouble and warned, “Frank you have your sleeve in the gravy.” It was not until we knew friends much better that the story came out. Mrs. Goodwin seemed to have a strong liking for young men which also extended to the owner of a butcher shop who delivered meat daily to preferred customers. It was then that Dick said I was not to go to the Goodwin home without him. But we still continued to play cards with them etc. After all he was the Superintendent even though he might be blind. Poor lamb! The rivalry between Ford City and Kittanning still continued but Ford City never won in spite of Glenn’s good coaching. Sometimes it was a little difficult for we were very fond of Glenn and I always had a glow of pride traveling with two handsome men. Our friendship never wavered continuing after he was married until his death. The months flowed on and soon it was June again and back to Mt. Pleasant Father, Mother and friends. Summers passed in the usual fashion and fall came too soon and back to work. We had kept the apartment so everything was ready for our return. We resumed the usual way of living. Back in the social swim

39 with card clubs, new friends, basketball etc. That winter Mother came out for a long visit. Needless to say we were overjoyed to think she would undertake the journey alone with all the different changes. She arrived safely and the fun began. Thirteen parties, luncheons, card parties, dinners given in her honor. I think that shows the wonderful kindness of the people in Kittanning toward a young inexperienced couple. Even the President of the Board of Education gave a dinner in Mother’s honor. I am sure the Detroit Board particularly the President never knew we existed. I am afraid Dick had some skimpy meals due to our partying. Mother’s visit ended much too soon but Father was all alone at home and duty called. Your Great Grandmother loved to play cards and she had plenty of opportunity during her visit. She had also heard her Son-in-law sing as the paid soloist in the Lutheran church choir. She also attended our own Episcopal Church services with her daughter, me, walking up the aisle with the choir as I had at home in Mt. Pleasant since I was twelve years old. Again the end of the very busy school year and back to Mt. Pleasant and the usual activity. As I remember there always seemed to be many of the old crowd around and the days flew by until it was time for our return to Kittanning. Mr. Fisher, one of the Kittanning High School teachers, came to Mt. Pleasant for a short visit. Fisher, Louise N., Dick, and I stopped over at Fenton where we had a week end at my sister Ida Mae’s cottage at Long Lake. Then Louise left to go back home and the three of us stayed with my sister Addie in her beautiful new home on West Grand Boulevard, in Detroit.

40 Then a very “posh” section of Detroit, now mostly apartment houses. My sister Addie’s home was filled with lovely oriental rugs, beautiful paintings, lovely furniture and all the evidence of luxury living. It was there I met, as a young girl, the two older Fisher brothers now famous, with their younger brothers, in the world of automobiles. We lingered there a few days, then back to Kittanning and the usual rounds. For some reason I can’t recall, Glenn had gone on ahead of us but we soon saw him after arriving back at our apartment. In going back and reading what I have written so far it seems that I have mostly written about pleasant things. Perhaps that is best, but we had our share of silly quarrels. Dick’s Mother had told me before we were married that she hoped I could teach him to hang up his clothes and also to remember where she kept his different items of wearing apparel. Well! I never did and from being an exasperating quality it some how turned into an endearing habit known only to Dick and some how quite individual. I remember one night when he had occasion to wear a tuxedo and a very stiff dress shirt. I was in bed when he came in slightly the “worse for wear,” as the saying goes, and demanded that I help him with the studs and cuff links. I told him he could get them out himself at which he said if I didn’t help him he would wear the shirt to bed. Rather than to sleep beside a stiff dress shirt I gave in. You see silly little quarrels only remembered because they were funny. And now we were living the third year of the three year contract which had been given to Dick and which was so soon

41 to be broken. I must explain here that my family was a very “close knit” unit-with the exception of Ed (Superintendent of Brookfield Ill. Schools) my other brother and sisters were all in Detroit. Jim Butcher, Addie’s husband had some influence with one of the thirteen members of the Detroit Board of Education. He, Jim, let it be known that he had a brother-in-law who was a successful Industrial Arts teacher and in the late Spring of that year Dick received his Detroit contract. With the contract came the request for him to report immediately. The Kittanning Board had been most kind and understanding when Dick had first told them what was liable to happen. After all he had taken the basketball team to their championship of the state of Pennsylvania and I suppose they were grateful for that. Also I am sure they found it difficult to compete with what the city had to offer us. Dick departed leaving me to cope with packing our belongings. Somehow I got everything ready and directed them to be sent to my sister Addie’s address in Detroit there to be stored in the basement. Once again I left Kittanning but this time with Rita Baker, a close friend. Once before when Dick and I were leaving in the spring many of our intimate friends gathered at the station to say good-bye. Much to our embarrassment they threw rice and confetti over us for a joke. And we couldn’t stand up and announce we had been married nearly four years. Of course no one would have believed us. This time Rita and I got to Pittsburgh long before train time for Detroit. We had a leisurely lunch, then our farewell said, I boarded the train. I had a chair in the pullman car and as I

42 settled down I noticed that I was the only woman in the coach. Every other seat taken by men. Much to my dismay I was becoming violently ill with a migraine headache. The kindly conductor must have noticed my distress for he asked if he could help me in anyway. I had no aspirin with me so from some kind man he found some, brought me water, a blanket, and saw me made more comfortable. There are so many kind people in the world! I finally went to sleep which is, I think, what I needed most, after the tension I had been living under. Fortunately when I awakened I felt quite alright. The seat next to me had been left empty by the departure of the occupant. To me it seemed only kindness which prompted a nice looking older man to take the empty seat, inquire about my headache and from then on chat until dinner time. He asked me if he could take me to dinner and he may have laughed forever when I said I would eat dinner with him but would pay my own check. He had introduced himself as Mr. Smith which in my naive way I accepted as true. When he took out of his pocket a whole handful of unset jewels I concluded he was a jewelry salesman. Innocence is its own protection. I knew I was being met by a car and of course Dick so when Mr. Smith said he was staying at the Statler, I, with my ever ready desire to be helpful, said of course you must ride with us since the Statler was right on our way. Of course when we got off the train “Mr. Smith” was carrying my luggage as well as his own. When I introduced him as a gentleman who had been very kind to me, Dick, unsmiling and in a very mocking way said, “Good evening Mr. S m i t h.” Anyway I still think his name was Smith in spite of

43 Dick’s despair of ever teaching me to be less innocent. I’m afraid time does the job but sometimes at a cost. I presume it may be well to be a little suspicious. We stayed with Addie and Jim the short time till going back to Mt. Pleasant as usual. Again we renewed friendships with any of the old crowd still in town. Father had decided to run for the office of Judge of Probate and Judge of the Juvenile Court. It was a busy summer and Father was happy to have his son-in-law there to drive him around the county on political business. The story goes that the way Charles Cassady campaigned for office was to point his face in the direction he wanted to go and get there as soon as possible. He was not the “hail-fellow well met” back slapping fellow, but a dignified gentleman with a wonderful sense of humor. Father won, of course, as he always seemed to in any and all of the offices he had held. He was sixty seven years old at the time. We were in Mt. Pleasant for the day of election and we have always remembered a remark the son of one of Father’s opponents made. Dick was near the election booth and heard the young man say “Why do you want to vote for a man who has one foot in the grave?” Enough people had confidence in Father’s ability to return him to the Judgeship four times. Then he retired at eighty three. I could really write a book about political campaigns. After our summer filled with politics we rented a small apartment and moved our furniture from my sister’s basement. It, indeed, was a small place. Dick, taking one look at the bath tub exclaimed, “My knees will never be clean!” I am almost afraid to tell you what I must tell about the times

44 we were living in. One of our neighbors in the apartment was working at the Henry Ford plant in Highland Park at the astounding wage of five dollars a day. Now, with wages at five dollars and more an hour it does seem incredible. Never the less at that time it was wonderful. We lived in that apartment a short time, renting it furnished for the summer months but I can’t remember to whom. That fall we moved to a larger apartment just off West Grand Boulevard and near the House of Providence Hospital. I remember only two things about our life there, no three things. One, we both loved strawberry shortcake, so, one night we decided to eat nothing but that for dinner. Just as we were taking our first bite, the fragrance of steak wafted into our apartment. That decided us against only dessert for dinner. Two, it was one afternoon that Addie came over from her beautiful home dressed in a beautiful, fur trimmed, black velvet suit, but heart broken. She had found out unpleasant facts about Jim and his secretary. The matter was resolved and Addie stayed with Jim all his life. But, as I sat looking and listening to my sister in a beautiful suit, I almost envied, I came to a conclusion that never changed. Better a faithful, fine, kind and loving husband than all the fine clothes, in the world. The third thing I remember: Dick did not want nor believed in a wife working. Knowing that, I did not tell him I intended to answer J.L. Hudsons add for millinery sales people. What gave me the courage to answer such an add is beyond me. Much to my surprise I was hired with no trouble at all. I was placed in the basement department totally unaware that at the end of the day your sales were totaled up. For the first three days, much to my surprise, I had the largest amount. Still I did

45 not realize it made any difference. In those days they had little “cash girls” who carried your sale slips and returned with change and the parcel from a central desk. There was one little “cash girl” I liked very much. One day she rushed up to me and in almost a frightened way told me there were two men from the upper office talking about me. Oh! dear! I thought, what have I done now? I was not left to wonder. They came over to me, introduced themselves, and asked me if I would come up to the shoe department. There I was to learn all about shoes leading eventually to a position as buyer. They assured me Hudson’s would of course expect to lose money as I was being trained. I thanked them but told them we would be leaving the city for the summer. I have often wondered how different my life would have been if I had accepted their offer. My hours would have been so different than Dick’s that conflict would certainly have arisen. I am sure without giving it a moment’s thought I made a wise decision. I must say here, that there was no trouble when Dick learned what I had done. In fact, I think he was, in a mild way, pleased at my independence. That summer was a little different than our other care free times. I am sorry I must be a trifle vague and a little uncertain of the sequence of events. I know war was raging in Europe. Woodrow Wilson had regained the Presidential election because “he had kept us out of war.” The details of that draft escape me. I know only Dick was included. It was that summer he made the beautiful black walnut bed, previously mentioned, wondering if he would ever sleep in it. We were at a lake near Remus, with two other couples when

46 Father called that an official letter was there in Mt. Pleasant for Dick. We hurried home and I am not exactly clear about this. I remember only going to Father’s office and composing a letter to the Draft Board. The official letter which Dick had received must have required the information we gave. We made it clear that his only dependent would be well cared for and have a position in Father’s office as his Register of Probate. Never the less Dick was exempted, but somehow it was something he did not exactly like. He was exempted because he was a teacher but he smarted under that exemption. We had now moved into the lower floor of a duplex on Taylor Avenue near Twelfth Street, where we were to stay for seven years, then, into our own home. But I am thinking ahead of the story. The care free summer vacations in Mt. Pleasant ended, to be replaced by shorter visits. That fall, on Taylor Ave., we resumed our usual routine. Playing in a Bridge Club the old crowd joining in a game we called Charity Poker. We were all under the same financial strain so we each bought one dollar’s worth of chips. You bet as long as you had chips. After that no bets but if your cards were highest you got the money and again you were back in the money and the game. Some time that winter Louise Newberry broke away from tight home ties, took a position in Detroit, and lived with us. We were so happy to have her, it seemed like old times. Along the latter part of March I finally realized I was pregnant. Then began a custom that my sisters thought ridiculous but which continued for many years. While I was pregnant the mere opening of a can of corn sent me to an unpleasant session which resulted in an inability to eat

47 afterwards. Dick, being the kind person he was, took on that job until it only seemed natural to call on him. I expect I eventually grew up. That summer we had a vegetable garden and Dick did war work at the Ford Plant in Highland Park. His hours were from three P.M. to eleven P.M. That turned our living schedule around but Dick was happy to be doing something to help in the war effort. He was soon promoted to Supervision with a crew to work with. They made something which I can’t-seem to remember I know only it was a recision instrument. The heat, hay fever and pregnancy almost too much to bear but who can escape natural forces. The summer over the coolness of Autumn, September, October, and finally November. We waited and we waited and we waited. My sister Addie always contended that our daughter was a month old when she was born. November the 23rd, 1918, at Providence Hospital on West Grand Boulevard, Detroit, Michigan. Contrary to the custom now of prenatal care, I remember seeing Dr. Tucker but a few times. I realized one Friday morning that at last something was going to happen. Dick, of course, was in school so I called my sister Addie and she and my nephew Charles came to be with me. We called Dick in the afternoon and the story goes that he left the receiver dangling, shouted, “My wife is having a baby,” and dashed for home. Providence is a Catholic Hospital and I remember the Nuns were singing Vespers which somehow sounded mournful to me. Our daughter Gertrude Raye came into this world Saturday morning at 6:00 o’clock. As we were going to the hospital, Charles, in his excitement, made the turn onto the Boulevard exactly the wrong way,

48 noticed by no one but me. I really wanted to get to the hospital. Naturally we had made proper preparation for the arrival of our first child. Everything was ready the little dresses etc. The bassinet all frills and lace and ribbon awaited. Incidentally the bassinet, the gift of Mr. and Mrs. Gleaves. Mr. Gleaves was the millinery buyer at J. L. Hudson where I had a brief fling previously mentioned. I had become acquainted with him and his wife and we became close friends until they moved to St. Louis, Missouri. In fact we took them to the train the day they left Detroit. Now gifts began to pour in, silver spoons, silver cups, booties, dresses, everything you could think of that a baby needs. I believe I still have the one and only dress I ever made for her, a labor of love. Thanksgiving was coming up on the calendar but momentous things world wide had happened. The Armistice had been signed and Detroit went wild as did all the world. There was to be a street dance downtown one evening while I was in the hospital. Dick was to take Louise Newberry and celebrate with the rest of Detroit. He came to see me right after school. I did not like the tie he was wearing so I suggested that he go across the street at the Men’s store and get a good looking tie. “After all,” I said, “if you are going to go out with Louise, I want you to look nice.” That was enough for the young woman in the other bed who couldn’t help but hear our conversation. She absolutely “blew up.” She wanted to know if it was possible that I was allowing my husband to take another girl to a dance? I allowed I was and received a long lecture. I think it was then that I conceived the rule I always tell young brides: “Drive with a loose rein.”

49 Louise went home for Thanksgiving and once home, they (her parents) never let her go again. Her father had never learned to drive so he kept her at his “beck and call.” The following Thursday of that week was Thanksgiving as I just wrote, and the entire Cassady family gathered at Addie and Jim’s home to celebrate the arrival of Gertrude Raye - Jim had saved a bottle of Virginia Dare wine from preprohibition days. He thought this was the grand occasion he had been waiting to celebrate. They brought my dinner to the hospital together with a rinsed out perfume bottle filled with wine. Poor lambs! I smelled like perfume, it tasted like perfume but I couldn’t bear to tell them. Alas! they are all gone and I am the last leaf on the tree. Shortly after our daughter’s birth Father Dickerson found it impossible to go on working which meant no pay check. We wrote Dick’s other brothers suggesting we all contribute a specified sum of money to pay rent and other expenses. As in so many families it fell upon Dick alone. We tried carrying the load of two establishments but found it impossible to cope with it financially. So Father and Mother Dickerson came to Detroit to live with us. Father Dickerson was a student of the Bible, had taught an Adult Sunday School Class. Never the less he was a very kind and understanding man, cheerful under adversity. Unfortunately Mother Dickerson did not have a very cheerful disposition. Father Dickerson would accept some little gift as though it was a wonderful thing, while Mother D. would look at whatever it was, lay the gift aside with no comment. I knew she was unhappy but did not know what to do about it. My parents had been urging me to bring the baby and come

50 for a visit so they could get better acquainted with their grandchild. So in April of that year I went home for a visit. I remember I often went over to the Court House, wheeling the baby carriage, to walk home with Father. The old Court House with the same remembered odors, stale tobacco smoke, the smell of waxed floors, all so familiar. And Father, walking beside me suddenly stooping over to pick a four leafed clover. How he could see them was a mystery to me. Upon meeting men who might not remember me he would introduce Gertrude, my baby and her baby while I smiled a sickly smile. I had to have some dental work done while I was at home. I went to the same dentist who had always taken care of me. He continued what he had always called me “Babe.” I could have hit him. Letters flew between Dick and me, but, in none of them did he ever mention the pressure he was under. So, I was quite surprised when he told me in one of his letters that his parents had gone back to Ionia, rented a small apartment near Corwin (one of Dick’s brothers). Corwin would do what he could but the main burden was still on Dick’s shoulders. I arrived home to find our bedroom furniture newly painted a silver grey decorated with pink rosebuds, an immaculate house, even the back hall newly scrubbed. Could any girl ask more from a loving husband? Then began the years of struggle. The years we called our mountain climbing years. We would just get where (as we would say) we could see the top when Wham! and back down we would go, to begin the climb again. When our duty to others first began Dick had taken a job in Jim Butcher’s box factory, working after school from then until

51 eleven, so I hastened to stop the baby from crying for her two o’clock feeding. Any man working two jobs needs sleep. Even a second income found us extremely short on money for Christmas presents. Believe it or not, my gift to Dick was a pair of long Johns and a white shirt. His gift to me was a pair of fur trimmed black velvet galoshes and a box of my favorite Sander’s candy. Our baby, blissfully unaware of money shortage had her usual nice Christmas helped by the Cassady tribe who helped all they could. My Father had always assumed the job of writing to me and his letters all started with, Gertrude, ended, Father, no endearing terms but always a ten dollar bill enclosed which spoke much more than endearing words. He continued this custom until after I started to earn money. Father Dickerson passed away that Spring and due to other expenses only Dick went to Ionia for the funeral. Mother D. after a visit to Aunt May and Uncle Jake in Reed City came on to Detroit again. There seemed to be no other solution much as she hated Detroit. It was at this time that I decided that Dick had to have help. I went to the Detroit Board of Education building and was interviewed by the Assistant Superintendent. They were not hiring married women and, to this day, I remember his remark when he told me. He said, “I do not care to go against the juggernaut of public opinion.” But I could be a substitute at “magnificent” sum of seven dollars a day. Thus began a career that lasted thirty eight years. More of this later. My substitute days found me very busy. Mother D, of course took care of the baby until I came home. But I always did the shopping and helped with getting breakfast and dinner

52 at night. Dick had by this time been placed in Miller Intermediate School and was taking courses at night towards a Bachelors Degree, from Detroit Teachers College, now known as Wayne State University. Dick was still working at Jim’s box factory the nights he did not have a class. We were grateful always for the many favors we received from our sisters and brothers. Now began a time, looking back, was the quietest socially of our entire life. Our friends were all starting a family, and we especially were extremely busy. A night playing bridge, a night once in a while at the movie. Part of our lack of social activity was our desire to keep things going smoothly at home. Always when we came back from an evening out we found Mother D. patiently sitting up with the baby asleep in a rocking chair, kept in motion by a very weary Grandmother. One or two nights like that and we gave up. Mother D. was almost a religious fanatic. She caused such a scene one morning at breakfast that Dick had to stay home from school. She went into a regular frenzy, pounding the table and accusing us of putting our love for our baby above our love of God. I have always hated extremes of any thing and I simply didn’t know how to cope. Our instructor in writing class told us we must tell about the bad times so you know things were not always “honey and pie” with me. That first year as a substitute teacher was a busy one. I had never intended, as a substitute, to teach every day. However I found myself being called every day. After about six weeks I was place at the Longfellow School for three months; the regular teacher was on a leave. That ended with Spring vacation and Miss. Morgan, Director

53 of Substitutes called me and told me to report to the 0. W. Holmes School the day after vacation. She neglected to tell me what I was getting into but I soon found out. Dick drove me to school and I arrived, accordingly, very early because he had to drive across town to Miller School. I entered my room, looking it over I found the ceiling, literally covered with spit balls dried and clinging there. After a few moments a great, lumbering, bear of a man, the janitor, came in, full of information. Five substitutes had refused to come back. Twenty nine boys and thirteen girls had amused themselves by tromping on the teacher’s feet as she walked down the aisle, and “if you need any help”, said he. And I said, silently, “any day!” I stayed at the 0. W. Holmes for seven years as a “Substitute Regularly Placed” until I got good and sick and tired without a regular teacher’s pay. Still married women were not being hired. I went down to see Superintendent Cody and in the course of our interview I remember I said, “I’m just at the end of my rope.” I cringe now when I think of it. He called Miss Morgan in and had a private conversation with her. We concluded the interview. At the next Board meeting I was hired and received my Continuing Contract. However I lost a very good friend because of it. She was in the same situation as I was and taught in the same District in the next school. I was questioned on the “whys” and “wherefores” of my appointment but I knew no reason. The bars had been lifted and I jumped through. My friend never quite liked me after that. I am ahead of my story by seven years but I must go back and tell of many things that happened. As I was in my second year of substituting we had a goal which we wished to reach.

54 That goal, is to build a summer cottage on property for which Jim and Addie had given us a deed for our first Christmas in Kittanning, Pa. I had to go downtown once a month to pick up my pay check a wonderful $140.00. I allowed myself the remarkable sums of $5.00 to spend. The other $135.00 went in the bank towards our dream. As I have said before, I never was able to do any kind of work which kept my hands in water any length of time without dire results. Eager to save money for our dream Dick and I took over the weekly laundry as well as the nightly washing diapers. By this time Dick had stopped work at the box factory. So we did our nightly chores, chanting together, “Washing our way to the cottage, washing our way to the Lake.” Jim Butcher had bought a farm at Long Lake which included a large island in what was called Black Bass Bay. He bought the farm to get possession of the island. My sister Ida Mae and her husband bought the last forty feet of the farm and our property the next forty feet lake frontage and seven hundred feet back to the public road. Ida Mae and her husband Leo Garvey had already built their cottage while Leo was learning to use an artificial limb. He had been terribly injured in a head-on collision of two interurban cars. Addie and Jim had built a very large colonial cottage on their island. Large, for they entertained large crowds for weekend parties frequently. That summer, after my second year of teaching, I took the baby and went home to take a refresher course in Reading, previously mentioned. We gave Jim our check for the money we haft saved. He shipped everything needed to build our

55 cottage. Again we had to be separated for Dick was building the cottage with his own two talented hands. We were reunited for a tragic reason: Gertrude Raye and I both had ptomaine poisoning. The ice cream vendor had sold ice cream which had melted and been refrozen. I recovered quickly but due to a woman doctor’s efforts the baby was getting much worse until my father insisted on other help even if it was necessary to call a specialist from Ann Arbor. That stirred things up and Dr. Getchel our family doctor took the case, got a nurse on the next morning. Dick, of course, stayed until the baby was well on the way to recovery. While Dick was there he did every ridiculous thing he could think of to amuse and keep the baby quietly lying down. As soon as summer school was over, the nurse, the baby and I went to our new cottage. Dick and I felt we had climbed another mountain. I must add that just writing that Dr. Getchel took the case does not tell the whole story. It does not tell of the agonizing days we lived watching our baby grow weaker and weaker, until one evening sitting quietly on the porch Dick, giving way to grief declared if anything happens to our child, we will never have another. I know we had the sympathy and prayers of the town because, suddenly, the great, noisy trucks carrying supplies to the addition to the High School being built were rerouted away from our home. Old, eighty year, slow moving, I.A. Fancher painfully made the two-block walk daily to the Court House to ask Father for the latest news. We have been eternally grateful to young Dr. Northrup the

56 osteopath who warned us to get Dr. Getchel on the case. As I said in the paper titled “Then and now” Dr. Getchel at first refused the case because we had had Dr. Holcomb, a woman doctor. But he took the case, since he had always been our family doctor. (Item) Read paper I wrote, titled “Then and now” for more details on Gertrude Raye’s illness. My brother Ed and wife Clara were visiting in Fenton and the telephone calls came daily as they were kept informed together with my brother Harvey and Ida Mae and Addie. I think this is as good a place as any to tell of my sister Clara, always called Teddy. She had never been very well or strong but she had such a sweet disposition, much loved by all. She married Will Britton of Grand Rapids and lived there for a time. When she became ill, Mother went to Grand Rapids and brought Teddy home. She was very ill and finally passed away. I was very young at the time and, as was the custom of the day, kept in complete ignorance I remember only the terrible sorrow of all of us. And now to resume my story. A week or two before Dick was to leave for Fenton, and I, with the baby, for Mt. Pleasant; Dick’s brother Corwin’s wife died. That left him with three motherless children. It was only natural that he turned to his mother for help. She left immediately only too happy to get back to Ionia where she stayed until she passed away and the children grown up enough to care for each other. Naturally, it was Dick who paid all expenses but we had been just smart enough to have taken out insurance years before in anticipation of such an event. My brother Harvey and his wife Mayme gave up their

57 apartment and came with us (at a price) to care for our wants and to care for Gertrude Raye whom Mayme dearly loved. I am a little vague now and do not exactly remember all the details of what went on. I know we went to the cottage every summer and dreaded the return to the city. The first two or three summers there was always some improvement that Dick wanted to make until finally we had things the way we wanted them. Then comes our next project and again Addie and Jim enter the picture, They had given a building lot on Fielding Avenue near Redford to Ward Butcher, Jim’s brother to help them out in building a home for his family. Ward and his son had had the basement excavated and had built part of the wall when they gave it up as too difficult a job. Addie and Jim offered the lot to us for a very small amount of money. We jumped at the chance and again Dick was off on a building spree. That summer Dick sent me to the cottage where he came out every week end. I had hired one of my fifth grade girls who incidentally had never been in the country nor ever had seen a live cow. Her mother had been doing our laundry and since they had nine children was only too happy to have Margaret spend a summer in the country. And I was happy to have company. Margaret caused quite a “stir” in Fenton. She even rated an article in the paper. And I have never forgotten her remark when she saw a herd of cows. “Such a many cows,” she exclaimed. Nor have I forgotten when she stood up at our first meal together, and, bread in hand walked around the table to get the butter. My family took her to their hearts and after a

58 day in town with Dick with us for the Fourth of July celebration she gleefully counted more money than she had ever had. Every time any of the family saw her they’d give her a quarter and tell her to get an ice cream soda. In reading over what I have written about Margaret never having seen a cow I realize it must seem incredible to you who may read this. Remember this was in the 1920’s. Margaret lived on a street facing the city dump, a very large one. Any unusual gift given us as teachers was always suspected as having come from the city dump, where about anything could be found. It was a popular place for the pupils at the O.W. Holmes School. The cottage, good manners, new dresses, and best of all two pair of Mary Jane slippers one pair white, one black-How Margaret shined those shoes. She kept in touch with me until she married and left Detroit. That fall we returned to our rented home on Taylor Avenue, where Mayme and Harvey had enjoyed being alone all summer. In October we moved into our own home, partially unfinished but never the less “home.” For some reason I can’t seem to recall Mayme and Harvey did not go with us, though later they lived with us several years. Earlier in the fall, Father and Mother took Gertrude Raye home with them and I still remember as they left, driving down the long drive way it seemed to me that there were strings tied to my heart and being pulled along with the car leaving. The two winters Gertrude Raye stayed in Mt. Pleasant was the only time in my life that I lost weight without trying. The second year Father kept his Buick running to drive his beloved grand child to ant from Kindergarten. I think Mother had so many clothes made for Gertrude Raye I had to lengthen

59 them by the time she wore them once. I believe I have written this before. Sorry to repeat but that seems something old ladies do quite often. Our daughter happily with us we paid tuition for her in the fall and I took her to school with me for the first grade. The Lonyo School Annex to O.W. Holmes housed the first and second grades. Later our suburb was annexed though we had always had a Detroit address. Our first address was 16121 Fielding but very shortly after we moved the Detroit authorities wished to honor a well known man in the Auto industry in Detroit. They simply moved the names of the streets back one block and inserted his name. Our house was the only one on that street. Since the man’s name was Stout it gave Dick a chance to say that they took one look at his wife and named the street. So now we were in a suburban setting with lovely green fields all around us. I think it was here that we acquired our liking of space around us. Dick had worked long hours to finish what he had not been able to do the summer he first built the house. It was during the two winters that Gertrude Raye spent with her grandparents that the floor in one bedroom and in the dining room was finally finished as well as all of the interior trim. Hours of work for Dick but never a complaint did I ever hear. Harvey and Mayme back with us, Gertrude Raye enrolled in the Burt School just two blocks away life again seemed wonderful. It had been an unhappy time for us without our daughter. Now in my seventh year of teaching at the O.W. Holmes I felt it would be much better for me to teach nearer home. After

60 driving me to school, Dick had to drive clear across the city to the Miller Intermediate. I asked for a transfer nearer home but not at the Burt. We wanted G.R. to make her own way. I was transferred to the new Vetal School and I’m sure you won’t believe I had four grades in one room, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth. I also had charge of the Book Inventory and spent one afternoon each week, in the office with the principal helping with records which had to be made every month. One record involved the record of children and if we lost the record of one child it had to be traced back. It was an endless task and involved the other teachers who might have made the mistake. Little did I know at the time that I was teaching and helping one of what was called the “Seven Devils.” Seven principals who had earned that dubious honor. However Miss. Alward was always extremely nice to me both at school and socially. One day she called me into her office, handed me the keys to her car, and asked me to take a paper over to Mr. Laing the District Principal. His office was at the Burt School. Miss. Alward told me, with a smile, if I wanted to stop at the park and read the letter it was not sealed. What woman could resist? I opened the letter and was amazed to find it was a recommendation for my promotion to an Auditorium position, the one advancement allowed a married woman. The promotion to Auditorium teacher made me the highest paid teacher in the school. I made the magnificent sum of $20.00 a month more than the rest of the staff. But, when you realize that I had every child in the building twice or sometimes three times a week you know I worked for my salary. So many things were required of the Auditorium and no course of study

61 provided. Art appreciation, Music appreciation, Hygiene, a little program for every holiday, a big program for Christmas. Twice a year we were required to put on a big show, a paid performance using every child in the building who wanted to be in it. And, of course you know every one wanted to be in it for we had so much fun. The addition to the Vetal school completed I moved to a brand new room with a stage but unfortunately no curtains. The big productions had to be held in the large gym, a barn like room to make look like a theater. Here again my talented husband comes into the picture. Long before I received my promotion he had been made head of Department at the Tappan School. Before he left the Miller he had been asked to teach in a special education room for boys, many of whom were at odds with the law. Dick seemed to be able to cope with such a situation with no trouble at all and we both treasured a letter of thanks from a grateful boy when Dick’s testimony saved him a jail sentence. My husband’s Master Thesis compared pairs of boys according to their environment as to living patterns while one boy was in trouble with the law the other a good citizen. It took hours of work and a Saturday trip to Michigan State at Lansing for a weekly class with the professors there. I seem to have left my story for a moment but it seemed necessary. Dick had designed and made scenery for a production at Tappan. Huge pots of tulips six feet tall and most colorful. These we used to line one wall as a back drop for the show. I shall not bore you to death by telling the details of the shows I put on at both Vetal and Burt School. I stayed at the Vetal for seven years. It is strange how seven

62 seems to figure so often in my life. As soon as Gertrude Raye was ready for High School I went over to interview Mr. Laing, the District Principal, about what chance I had of getting a transfer to the Burt since it was so close to home. I had foolishly waited until September thinking he could do something for the next year. He made a few complimentary remarks about the way I had handled things in Miss. Alwards absence. She had been quite ill for three months and I had kept things going acting as the principal with no substitute for my room. Oh! yes, I could act as a principal though I was married. Mr. Laing immediately set things moving. The new teacher at Burt was sent to the Vetal and before I knew it I was whisked over to Burt where I spent twenty four happy years. Our daughter had made an enviable record at Burt. She was fortunate in having a fine teacher, Mrs. Kello, who went with her class from fifth to sixth and seventh grades. Gertrude Raye played piano in the Burt School orchestra and when she was selected as the pianist for the large District orchestra she was a happy child. She had been double promoted in grade school, much against our wishes, so she entered High School at age 12. In our district, yearly in June, every school sent the very best arrangement of flowers or vegetable they could produce. The flower and vegetable show was always held at Burt where the judges awarded the prizes. The last year I was in Vetal I sent over an arrangement of pink roses. I had at home, a round cheese box, large but decided not to use it. Gertrude Raye, then in the eighth grade, took it to school, arranged a display of vegetables, artistically as is every thing she does and entered the show.

63 When G.R. came home from school I asked her how things went and who won prizes. She gave me a peculiar look and said, “Mother I hate to tell you, but I took first prize and you took second”. Needless to say, we were both happy. While I am on the subject of our daughter I may as well tell things which may be of interest to her grandchildren. As a little baby her first word was “shoes” pointing to pictures. To this day she always has good looking shoes. As a little girl three or four years old she knew just where to turn the page in her favorite story, and licking her hand as she had seen others do, would go on “reading.” So the first time Dick called me to hurry into the living room to hear her read I just couldn’t make it seem possible. Uncle Ed had sent many first and second grade books to her and it was from one of these she was actually reading. As a little girl our daughter always wanted to do things for herself. Even while still in a high chair she was independent. Uncle Corwin, furniture designer at Ionia Reed Furniture Company, designed a high chair which they called, in their catalogues, “The Gertrude.” It had a tray fastened at the back which came over the baby’s head. But, first try and do it yourself and you met with vociferous objection. Let the baby arms draw it down herself and all was well. We also furnished great amusement to two elderly ladies living next to us when I tried to help her with her doll buggy in getting it up the porch steps. Invariably they would tell me I might as well give up, which I found I had to do to keep peace. It was while G.R. was in grade school and the summer Dick was spending at Michigan State that trouble offered us a double threat. In a moment of misguided zeal, Mrs. Tews, our

64 housekeeper had waxed the uncarpeted stairs. G.R. slipped, fell, and hurt her hip. We thought only, that it was unimportant until she was running a fever every afternoon. Our doctor put her in bed until he could finally diagnose the trouble. Since our bedrooms were on the second floor I moved a bed down into the living room to save steps. Finally the doctor realized the hip was injured and an operation was necessary. Dick came right home from Michigan State and, of course, we were with her constantly. To us nothing was more important. The day the nurse had G.R. dressed and up in a chair was a joyful one for us. Our worries seemed to be over and we would soon have her home. It was that night, driving home from the hospital that I went all to pieces, as it were. All my life when disaster has struck I seem to gain some inner calm and strength only to lose all control, seemingly, when trouble no longer is with us. Going home down Grand River I thought I would have to jump out of the car and I guess Dick thought so too, for he hung on to my arm. I hate to think of being uncontrolled! My Mother had passed away after a long and lingering illness while I was at the Vetal School. One night as I was finishing up dinner dishes Dick came quietly behind me and put his arms around me. I screamed, dropped a dish, and burst into tears. Then I couldn’t stop and I was sure my Mother was much worse. When I went to school the next morning I told the girl in the office not to be surprised if a call came in for me. So it was just as I knew it would be, when in the middle of the morning the clerk came to me and said my husband had just called and

65 would be right out to get me. No one had to tell me, my beloved Mother was dead. We hastened to get G.R. and started for Mt. Pleasant remembering all the generous, kindly acts which had benefited so many. Two things I shall always remember. One: the husband of Mother’s dressmaker saying, with tears in his eyes, that they would never have dared to start their successful business if they had not received constant assurance that they must go right ahead for of course, “You can do it.” Two: a street cleaner standing with bowed head, his hat in hand as though in salute as the procession passed by. So much I could write! You know, at times I am sure I shall never finish this story for I am so full of remembrances. Please! Bear with me. Now, our daughter back home, Dick returned to Michigan State and resumed his interrupted studies. But not for long. About a week after his return to his studies, hearing a car in our driveway, I looked out to see Dick, a distressed look on his face, a limp hot water bottle tucked in his belt coming across the lawn. The hot water bottle had been a make shift ice bag to ease the pain of an attack of appendicitis. A quick bath, into clean night clothes, he relaxed onto the davenport. Now I had two patients, really more worried about Dick for G.R. was doing very well. The doctor came and did all he could but we both knew an operation was due in the near future. Again Dick returned to Michigan State and I think it speaks well of my talented husband that he received the highest marks possible on every course, in spite of the two worrisome happenings. It was a happy family that managed a short time at our cottage before school started.

66 Just now, on this hot August afternoon, trying to think back and get everything in proper sequence I realize I left out something about the reason I had to take over paying the bills and doing the banking etc. It was while Dick was working in the box factory and taking night courses to attain his Bachelor Degree. He, when he left the factory, built a house together with Glen Ettinger previously mentioned as the man Dick recommended for the Ford City, Pa., School. Time simply did not allow Dick to do everything. He was President of the class as they received their degrees. Naturally Dick had to make a speech so Gertrude Raye and I went to see him graduate and hear his speech. After listening to the speaker of the day droning on and on G.R. piped up, loud enough for those around us to hear, “Mama, I think Daddy’s speech was better than this one, don’t you?” I think there were people around us who agreed but I was embarrassed. The years pass quickly as G.R. is in High School, Dick building after teaching all day. I had the passing fancy that I would like to be a librarian, but a few courses taken and I soon realized, that life was not for me. I enjoyed my more action teaching in the auditorium. Gertrude Raye played in a little dance band which the Head of the Music Department at Redford High School had organized. She also played in the Symphony orchestra and played a concerto with it at a concert. Our family physician came from across the aisle after the concert and in fun, said he had watched me “heaving” of course, I was nervous for it is something I could never do and I constantly marvel at her

67 ability. Item: See paper titled “A Character,” where we were told to write a character sketch with no description of physical appearance. It was while G.R. played with the dance band that she first started to smoke. I can’t remember when we first knew she was smoking but I can assure you it was not because we searched her belongings or anything of the kind. I detest anything furtive. Dick and I talked the matter over. We decided that much more harm would result from our daughter trying to keep her parents in ignorance of her doings, than would result from a cigarette. It was nearing Christmas and we still carried on the custom of filled stockings opened Christmas morning. When G.R. unpacked hers she found a pretty little blue and white ash tray to go with her blue and white bed room. To this day I can’t remember that anything was said but I am sure there were smiles and understanding laughter. As long as Grandpa Cassady lived with us, Gertrude Raye never smoked in front of him. It was nothing we had demanded but her own decision. After Mother passed away, the old home sold, almost fifty years after it was first built, Father came to be with us. Again I can’t remember any discussion about where he would live. It just seemed a fore gone conclusion that he would come to us, much to our delight. He brought his Buick with him and Gertrude Raye made good use of it, proudly driving to school. It was at G.R.’s graduation that Dick had his “pocket picked.” We were standing in the crowded lobby of Redford High Auditorium when he felt his wallet going. Quick as a cat

68 he turned, grabbed a man, and then, on second thought, let him go thinking he might have the wrong man. That evening we had a phone call from a man who had picked the wallet out of a snow bank down Grand River Ave. There was no money in it of course, but driver’s license, etc., were there. Now the sequel, the next day Tappan School was having their graduation. Dick was on duty in the lobby as the crowd left and there in the crowd, the same man Dick had grabbed by his coat front. The pick pocket took one look at Dick and started to run, Dick right after him, but, unfortunately, a car already running was waiting and the man got away. I’m sure he will look over the next crowd very carefully. Due to the fact that G.R. had been double promoted in grade school made her High School graduation in January. We did not want her to enter college in mid term. So, we turned over the planning of the meals, and the shopping to her. Louise Laing was our housekeeper, after Mrs. Tews, seven years, and she for seven years. Louise and G.R. worked very well together and many a nice warm cookie and glass of milk was rushed into the living room to Grandpa. And how emotional Louise cried every time we did something nice for her, like a Thanksgiving basket etc. It was while G.R. was in high school but I can’t recall the exact year that I put on a marionette show for all the supervisors plus the Assistant Superintendent, Herman Browe, with whom we had often had many a good time. Knowing him so well made it much harder for me. My ever faithful, behind the scenes man, made a beautiful marionette stage for me with little curtains which opened and closed as real theater curtains do. Dick also made the hand

69 controls to which the strings are attached. This was a project the Art teacher had started. A project that ideally would include other teacher’s efforts to culminate in the Auditorium. The Art teacher to make the marionette, the English teacher the script etc. The Art teacher, adept at pushing and building up her reputation, had already advertised this wonderful project and the guests she invited had all accepted, and the date was set. I waited for the marionettes to appear and what appeared was a smelly mess of wet paper and paste mixed up in a huge pan. With it the excuse that since she was at Burt only two and one half days a week couldn’t the children make them in Auditorium? So, I did what I had to having been taken in by a superior “con artist.” We stuffed bodies, we made heads and some how the marionettes took form. The breakfast nook at home was turned into a production center for costumes. The script written, now I was ready to do what was supposed to be my part only. Training my students to work the marionette while saying their lines. The most difficult part was keeping the children quiet as the play progressed. They were on tables back of the set and the desire to talk seemed alright to them since no one could see them. In fact one of the Supervisors asked me after the play if that was my voice taking all those different parts? I had to be behind the marionette stage to keep things going. Mr. Herman Browe, Assistant Superintendent was not so “taken in” by the Art teacher as she wished. We had known him for a long time and I guess he thought I would understand by a few subtle remarks he made to me.

70 The most amusing thing that happened was when one of the third grade boys, having been asked to bring something to push the stuffing in the marionette body, brought a small enema tube. It was while G.R. was in High School that she met Stuart Stuckey, introduced to him by his cousin. Stuart went to Cooley High School while G.R. attended Redford High. However, they managed to see one another frequently the romance leading to their marriage. More about this later. And now comes a period in my life when many things are happening all at once. And, how do you write about this? I guess I shall have to take them one by one. Realizing that, hopefully we had been a strong support for our daughter we wanted her to have the advantage of at least a year in a good girl’s school, pushed out of the nest, as it were. Lucile Stuckey, Stuart’s sister had attended Gulfport by the Sea and knowing they had a fine pianist as an instructor we applied for her admission. She was accepted and now to follow all the instructions of what G.R. was to take. I remember six dinner napkins which were never returned. I had asthma that summer and while we were shopping G.R. would find a place where two counters formed a slight hiding place, her body shielding me from the crowd, would let me gasp for breath until at last I could breathe properly. At last, everything ready, G.R. departs for Gulfport and Stuart for Hillsdale. Dick and I for home already lonesome. But the year was a good one and G.R. won a scholarship to assist in the music department. We did not let her go back, but the year had accomplished what we wanted. Her ability to compete with all types, girls who had brought their own riding

71 horse etc. We had so many telegrams asking our consent to allow G.R. to go to New Orleans with parents of one girl or another. So, by the time Lucile and Stuart Dick and I drove madly to Gulfport, spring vacation New Orleans must have been an old story to her, but not to us. Item: Read paper titled “A Bit of Paradise.” Our reunion with our daughter was a happy one. She went to our hotel with us to have dinner, stay with us, and depart for New Orleans in the morning. When Dick went to the desk for cigars the clerk informed him that we had caused a bit of excitement in the dining room. I had noticed that every time I looked up people’s eyes were just turning away from our table. I even felt the side zipper in my dress. All was well and I then decided it was Lucile’s striking good looks that was causing the interest. But the mystery was solved when the clerk told Dick every one thought he, Dick, was Jim Farley, then Post Master General. That really was nothing new for Dick had been taken for Mr. Farley many times and it happened again in New Orleans. We did all the things in New Orleans that tourists always do. Watched the banana boats being unloaded, saw the French quarters, dined in the famous restaurants, sampled a Mint Julep, ate a Poor Boy sandwich. Just had a good time, dreading the time when we had to part with our daughter. I think Stuart felt that way too and the grey moss draped on the trees as we drove back to G.R.’s school helped not one bit. Gertrude Raye’s return from school found her eager to earn money. So we rented our loved cottage and Dick taught Summer School and I kept house. Bob Shaw, my sister Ida

72 Mae’s husband had charge of the first floor at Crowley Milners, a large department store in Detroit. G.R. was hired as a sales girl and Uncle Bob always seemed to appear if a customer was being difficult. The waning summer finds me again getting our daughter ready for Hillsdale College where she had been accepted. And I was also getting ready for school. It was my usual remark to say I was like an old war horse snuffing the smell of battle. I think that a rather crude remark but it is mine own and people have to “put up” with me. The years pass quickly. My life is filled with one production after another. Small programs for every important week of day, the P.T.A depending on the Auditorium to produce something once a month. Father often asked me if there was ever going to be an evening when I could relax. But these were happy years. We had had a wonderful trip to Yellow Stone and Denver, though I was disappointed that Pike’s Peak did not rise in splendor all by itself. It had to be pointed out to me. Our daughter was doing well at Hillsdale. We were enjoying having Father with us. We made frequent trips to Hillsdale where G.R. had joined the Kappa Kappa Gama. The first thing Dick would ask G.R. was how much she owed at the hamburger place. I think it pleased him to know that his daughter depended upon him so confidently, and the bill was paid, cheerfully. Father’s Day celebrated by the sorority gave Dick a nice weekend alone with his daughter, as did Mother’s Day for me. They had asked me to respond to the welcoming speech which I did. The only thing I remember about it is that I had memorized the opening remark to get me over that first nervous

73 moment. Again we travel the well worn path to Hillsdale to hear our daughter play a concerto with the college Symphony and receive her diploma. A proud moment for all of us. I must go back a bit and gather up the threads of this story. If I had a pen that could write four different stories at once, then you could see how everything was happening in the same years. I have skipped over the great depression year 1929 when the Stock Market crashed and fortunes were lost over night. Schools closed in May instead of the last of June. Teachers were paid in what seemed like play money and we suffered through it. Item: Read paper titled “The Great Depression” It was the summer that Dick taught summer school with the sessions in the morning only. After a quick lunch we hurried to explore the surrounding country side to find a place to build our dream house. We had driven Lasher Rd. so often on our trip to the cottage that while we found many beautiful sites, we felt more comfortable on Lasher. We purchased four and five-eighths acres, part of a farm, with a small stream running along the outer edge and many beautiful trees on the place. We had been conditioned to having wide open spaces around us by our early years on Stout. When the street built up, the crowning blow was the house built across the street from us which slapped us in the face every time we opened the door. There was one drawback, a deep ditch prevented us from driving on the property from Lasher Rd. for a short time only, we entered the farmer’s lane and came in the back way. We

74 corrected that by tearing down part of the hill and filled in the ditch for a space forty five feet wide and eight or ten feet deep. So now we had an entrance. When the frustrations of the day seemed too much to bear we drove out to Lasher Ave., sat back in our lawn chairs, listened to wind in the trees watched the sun on the water and let our cares vanish. The following Spring Dick put in a huge garden and started to build a two car garage which really could have housed three cars. I can see now, the two men in my life as they loaded the car with tools and a good lunch, ready for a summer’s day’s work. Father often remarked that the wind might take the garage but it would go in one piece it was so well built. It was well before the building of this garage and before Father came to live with us that two events pushed us back down our mountain of hope. My sister Addie had a dressmaker who could look at a very expensive dress and reproduce it for half the money. This particular Friday I had stopped in at my sister’s home to pick up three dresses that had been made for me. One dinner dress and two day time dresses. That Saturday I picked up a Hudson Seal coat that had been made for me by an east side furrier. Proudly I laid it out on the guest room bed. My first fur coat and as it turned out, my last fur coat for I never wanted another after what happened. We had been invited out for a Sunday night supper and it was much too early to wear a fur coat. As we opened the door and glanced up the stairs on our return home, stockings draped every stair. We rushed up stairs knowing what we would find - no fur coat - back downstairs to the cloak closet - no nice new dresses. I didn’t cry, I was much too angry. Dick had his best suit on

75 and fortunately the second pair of pants was at the dry cleaners. In the kitchen muddy foot prints on newspapers spread over a newly scrubbed floor. Dick’s silk shirts gone and the remaining white turned over as they looked, scorning anything but silk. The following Spring the police took us to a garage house out Six Mile Rd. There we found a husband and wife and baby and an added interest, the wife’s boy friend, who at that time was in jail. The husband staying at home with the baby, the wife and boy friend doing the stealing. They had stolen every thing in building the house. The police took us out to identify our belongings. She had washed my lovely blue wool dress, torn a three cornered hole in my fur coat which she said, boldly, she did when they were stealing the pretty round topped fence post which held up the stolen wire. We were shown dozens of linen items and a beautiful crystal light fixture graced their kitchen ceiling. Five or six bath tubs still in their wooden crates laid outside the back door. The sheriff’s victrola crowded in one corner of the small living room. We took one man out who identified his front door which had been stolen from his newly built home. The ironic touch, the Sheriff’s stolen victorola. The following Fall Dick’s brother Shirley arrived at our home together with his wife Blanche and their two sons. Shirley had lost a very good job and they had no one to turn to but Dick and me and we did the only thing anyone could do - took them in and rearranged our style of living. Blanche took over the housekeeping. The boys entered Burt School and Shirley looked for work. Time passed and finally Blanche’s brother-in-law found he had work for Shirley way

76 over on the East side of Detroit. It meant that Shirley would have to start out at five o’clock in the morning and make several changes of street cars. He started out very early as promised but later in the day Blanche’s brother-in-law called to ask why Shirley had not reported for work. That was the last we ever saw or heard of Shirley. It was a bitter blow to all of us but we did the best we could but Blanche seemed to become a different person which we tried to understand. I suppose any woman might react as she did. We did not like our home being used to entertain all and sundry men met casually on the street cars. We tried to be patient and understanding but Blanche smarting under the blow to her pride wanted to get away as she did. Years afterward Blanche wrote to me the most apologetic letter I have ever received. She had remarried and lived in California. I have written about these two events to show that we had our troubles (climbing mountains we called it) and handled each problems to the best of our ability. Now back to the property on Lasher Rd. though we were still living on Stout and that winter 1938 we often drove out as we had in summer to dream of our new house and to be sure the land and garage were still there. We really had not intended to build right away but we became so anxious that we put the house on Stout up for sale. It was sold in late Fall and we put our things in storage and rented a furnished place near our own home. The one sad thing the fact that Father would never have the bedroom that we planned in our new home. Father had been out to visit Ida Mae in Fenton. He was

77 alone there one night and started off to mail a letter to me. Thinking he was on the back porch he made a wrong turn and fell off the front porch breaking his hip. I have always said my Father died for me then as I received a long distance call to tell me Father had been rushed to the hospital in Flint. The doctors thought it best not to operate on Father’s hip because they thought he could not stand it. I argued differently. Hadn’t I sat and watched him, his hands gripping the arms of a chair, while the eye specialist touched Father’s eye with a pointed red hot instrument when he was just past eighty and still in office? Ed, my oldest brother came on immediately from Brookfield, Ill., and we met in Fenton to go to a hotel in Flint and spend that first weekend with Father. Back in Fenton Ed, Ida Mae and I talked things over. Ed took over handling Father’s money, Ida Mae to look for a good nursing home. Right there I strongly objected I wanted Father with me. I told them we would look for a house with a bedroom down stairs and buy or rent but Father must be with me. I knew he was tough and could stand the trip by ambulance. Ed and Ida Mae exchanged knowing glances (as if I didn’t know what they were thinking, isn’t that just like Gertrude.) and Ed with his kindly big brother smile said, “Oh! Gertrude, you are letting your heart speak, not your head.” So I was defeated. Father lived three years and one of his first private nurses moved her family to Fenton and took Father as her only patient. Ed and I made frequent trips to Fenton. The rest of the family lived there so Father saw his children frequently. We

78 always all gathered for his birthday and times in between. Still feeling sad that Father would never see our new house we settled down for the winter in the furnished house we had rented. We lived there until May when we took enough furnishings to camp out in the garage. Our twelve by eighteen oriental rug covered part of the cement floor, our porch Simons davenport which opened to be a double bed, a single bed for G.R., our refrigerator, an electric plate several chairs and a table. Enough of the house was built so we had electric power. Dick had already fixed up a shower back of the garage with nothing in view for miles. Now the unbelievable. I don’t know what the electric man had done but every time we opened the refrigerator we heard music and quickly we looked at the radio to see if ice cubes were being made. I don’t know what the electrician did but he finally got things working. Dick put mosquito netting over the garage doors and, behold, we were in business. And a good thing we were there to see that the contractors plans were carried out. For instance, copper called for but lead delivered. We had more company that summer than ever before. Every one wanted to see where the Dickerson’s were camping out. A crew of Italians were doing the cement work and had left to the last the floor of the breezeway which connected the garage to the house. It was left to one worker to lay planks across the wet cement, gallantly help me “walk the plank” and teach me a lesson in patriotism and love of country. He had recently arrived in the U.S.A. and was still in a state of awe that he could drive to any place he wished without being stopped and questioned. “Just think,” he said, “last Sunday we drove

79 way to Lansing and no one stopped us.” Makes one think doesn’t it, if we value our citizenship highly enough? The house built, now comes the selection of wallpaper and here I thought our family would split in three different directions. Each one of us had a set idea but we finally all agreed and when we saw the finished results we were all satisfied. We moved into our new home in August 1939 and soon after Gertrude Raye left for her Senior year at Hillsdale, and Dick and I to our schools. About the middle of August Ilah B. Gifford, who was then Principal of the Burt School, called me from downtown Detroit. She had just driven in from Mexico. I asked her to come right out for dinner. She had given up her apartment and then was born the saying, “She came for dinner and stayed nine months,” which is true. Our recreation room turned into a display room for all the things Ilah B. brought back from Mexico. Though Ilah B. and I were close friends when we entered the doors of Burt she was Miss. Gifford and I was Mrs. Dickerson. I was determined not to take advantage of our friendship nor place her in a position where she could be accused of favoritism. Gertrude Raye’s last year at Hillsdale rolled along as usual. Besides her piano work she had instruction on organ. She has continued to play the organ all through the years. Her friendship with Stuart Stuckey now blossomed into an engagement with plans for a future marriage. I have written of her graduation and how proud we were watching and listening as she played a concerto with the Symphony Orchestra. The graduation over with, we now had our daughter home. Vacation passed. We no longer had a summer cottage since we

80 had sold it when we started the building of our last home. Dick had continued his study at Michigan State and now had his Masters Degree and he declared that improvement of our place on Lasher would be his Doctor’s Degree since he lacked credits in languages. Some where along here but I can’t exactly remember the year, we realized that one car was not enough. Dick had been driving me to school and picking me up after school. If he had a meeting then I was held up. So Dick and three of his teacher friends making a lark of this adventure bought me a used Ford for the magnificent sum of $75.00. But not until each man had his turn driving it around the block. Any way it served its purpose and freed me from hours of waiting. How with the price of cars in the thousands it is hard to believe that any thing in automobiles could be purchased for that price. The Fall of 1940 our daughter was accepted by the Detroit Board as an emergency substitute, just as I started. Again history repeats itself for she was kept busy everyday as I was, called back many times to schools where she had fist substituted. Dick was busy with his regular work and in addition training young men in a school set up especially to aid in the war effort. My little seventy five dollar car came in handy as I paid bills, did the shopping, taught school, and in general kept the home fires burning. We were a busy family. December 18th was the date Stuart and G.R. wanted to be married since Dick and I and Mr. and Mrs. Stuckey (Stuart’s parents) both were married on that date. But things did not work out just right for that date so the date was set forward to May 31st.

81 Again we are engaged in planning, at home, for the wedding, at school, for the big Spring production. Ilah B. was still living with us and would be until time for the wedding when her room would be needed for out of town guests. At school I was rehearsing for one of the most pretentious productions I had ever put on. Ilah B. Gifford, as I have said, was the Principal of the Burt School. She asked me to do a play on the life of Stephen Foster using the songs he had composed. I found little already written in the form of plays and none suitable for an eighth grade school. So there was nothing left for me to do but write the play myself. If anyone who reads this has ever tried to write a play you know that something sounding fine in writing does not play well on stage. So, by trial and error, the play was written. Remember I had to use every child from kindergarten through the eighth grade who wanted to be in it. And here I shall have to digress to bring up details necessary in further writing about this particular production. I am writing at length about this for I consider it one of the best things I ever did. In January 1941 Gertrude Raye substituted two and one-half days a week in the music room at Burt for the entire semester. I have never forgotten what one of the eighth grade boys said to me about my daughter. He said, “She walks down the aisle like you do. She looks like you, she talks like you, and when she says, John Smith, I don’t want to hear another word out of you, it’s exactly like you.” I was fortunate to work with a gym teacher who was a talented dance instructor and most creative. Ilah B. had some one take care of our classes one morning and we made up

82 dances for many Stephen Foster songs where they fitted into the script. One scene was laid in the home that Stephen visited often. My kind and talented husband, Dick, made a large sixteen ft by eight ft picture frame. Very fancy and painted gold looking very elegant. Within the frame boys and girls posed as a lovely picture across the back wall of the home. Boys dressed in fawn colored trousers that strapped under the instep. If the girl had a pink off the shoulder dress the boy had a rose colored coat and so through eight couples. As the curtains opened they held their pose for five minutes while the scene was laid by the speaker. Other boys and girls were gathered around a baby grand piano. At a chord, the picture came to life each boy gallantly offering his hand to his lady. They came to the front of the stage and formed two sets to dance a stately Southern Minuet. The scene was received by thunderous applause and I was happy. I have skipped ahead in my story for the play was not put on until after G.R’S wedding. Rehearsals were going on at Burt, and I sometimes wondered if I would see characters in the play walking up the aisle at the wedding and part of the wedding in the show. Memorial Day fell on Friday in 1941 and Ilah B. sent me home Thursday noon so I had time to get in the spirit of wedding preparations. The house had to look “just so” for the reception was held at the house after an early evening ceremony at Redford Baptist Church. The church looked festive with tall standards holding large

83 bouquets of pink carnations. The bridesmaids also carried pink carnations. I was a proud and happy Mother as I watched my good looking husband bearing on his arm his beloved and most attractive daughter. Her bouquet was lovely hiding in the center a white orchid to wear on her going away suit. We hurried home to be ahead of the guests to a lawn with gay lighted Japanese lanterns and the house ablaze with light. My greatest worry eased. The caterers had arrived. I had had to leave for the church before they arrived and all I could think of was that I had only a pound of coffee in the house which never would make enough coffee to serve the many guests. It really was a lovely reception. So many of Stuart’s and G.R.’s friends were there even one of the girls from her year at the girl’s school in Gulfport, Mississippi. As their college friends went to the airport with Stuart and G.R. they made quite a crowd. Standing around the plane they sang their fraternity and sorority songs. Much to their surprise the pilot came over and joined in Stuart’s fraternity. It made a nice friendly flight to Chicago. They called us from Chicago to let us know they arrived safely. The reception was still going on with our most intimate friends lingering on and on. I can still see dignified Dr. Norman Clarke now a heart specialist (but originally one of the so called kindergarten) slicing ham and making sandwiches for all. Thus ended the wedding reception. Stuart and Gertrude Raye back from their honeymoon we settled down to every day living; happy to welcome our new son-in-law, a united family. I was still rehearsing for the Stephan Foster show which I

84 have mentioned before. When G.R. first came to Burt School and had to bring her class to the Auditorium for any reason we tried to be formal calling each other Mrs. or Miss Dickerson. It was so very artificial that we soon stopped that and I became Mother and G.R. by her name. Not an eyelid blinked nor were there any smiles. It was such a true situation, why laugh about it, seemed to be the opinion of the students. Life flowed pleasantly for our little family. Dick enjoyed having Stuart to talk man talk but of course war clouds hung heavily over us realizing what that meant for Stuart. We did not have our radio turned on that infamous Sunday December 7, but our neighbor Jimmy Sindelar came over, tapped on our back living room window and told us what had happened. Then began a troublesome time in our life for we were as anxious for Stuart to get into the branch of service he wanted as he was. Unfortunately, Stuart had had a great deal of trouble with his teeth and had finally to give up and have a denture. That fact stopped him every where he tried to enlist. I making a poor joke told him to say he didn’t want to bite the enemy just shoot them. We were all working and it was a busy time for all of us. G.R. was substituting any where she was called. In the Spring of 1942 she was called to a school, an intermediate, but I can’t recall the name. Just as I had been put at the Holmes where subs had refused to go back so G.R. found herself in a largely negro school where three substitutes had failed. She stayed till the end of the year. In the Fall of 1943 Terry Bannon, the Principal, of that same school whose name I can’t remember asked to have her placed there. It was a difficult place but

85 since she had successfully dealt with the situation I suppose the principal wanted someone he could depend upon. So that’s what you get for being dependable, more of the same, yet, if you had a choice I’m sure most people would choose to be dependable. I can’t remember the exact date when Stuart left for training in the Coast Guard somewhere near New York. I remember only Gertrude Raye coming home after a tearful farewell as Stuart left for his training. We did what any devoted parents would do to cheer up their daughter. At Thanksgiving time 1943 G.R. went to join Stuart in Brooklyn. She drove their convertible, and we were a little worried to see her start off alone. She stopped at Pittsburg the first night already in her hotel room. She called us to let us know she was safe, the next call came from Brooklyn. Finally, Stuart’s training in the Coast Guards over, he was stationed in Brooklyn. One of his duties was to meet and board incoming foreign ships. Thus he met the captains and officers and it was almost as good as traveling abroad. Gretch (as I am now going to call her) had joined Stuart in Brooklyn. They had a small apartment. There was no chance of Gretch getting a teaching position in New York so she went to the War Board to see what courses she could take to help in the war effort. She went to the School of Sketching and Drafting eight hours a day, five days a week. Before she graduated a call came from the Brooklyn Navy Yard for skilled help. Her instructors sent Gretch, with her drawings, to be interviewed. The Brooklyn Navy Yard, a huge place, is surrounded by a high brick wall with entrances about a mile apart. The taxi

86 drove Gretch to the wrong entrance. She was all dressed up in a Navy Blue Dress with a green top and a floppy green hat to match. To top things off it began to rain and as she was trying to keep her drawings dry, her floppy hat sank lower and lower about her head. And it did not help any after trudging such a distance to find the right gate guarded by what seemed like a platoon of marines and officers. She was allowed to come in and directed to the right department. There she watched her drawings being carried from desk to desk. Each important looking man inspected them very carefully. Finally the first man who had greeted her said they were quite impressed by her qualifications and would be happy to have her join them. So, she became a part of the “Advanced Planning Engineers Aid” to have her own group later. She tells of her and her boss working long hours on a drawing only to find the Admiral, for whom it was made, found it too large to go in his brief case. They had to rework it to proper size. The department had been created to forecast future needs in numbers of people needed, estimates for buying steel etc. While working at the Navy Yard Gretch saw the launching of the Battleship Missouri. She made a chart of the Chain of Command for the ship so where ever the Missouri rides the seas there is placed somewhere the work of our daughter and we are proud. She also made a chart that Harry Truman requested though she did not have the pleasure of meeting him. Gretch and Stuart soon made friends. They had bought furniture and their apartment a cozy place for two. When we went to Brooklyn we stayed across the street in an apartment a

87 teacher had left for Christmas vacation. The first night we were there Stuart and Gretch took us up to the apartment roof garden. Stuart taking my arm, led me around an obstruction and Lo! there was the Statue of Liberty so close it seemed as if I could lean over and touch it. My first view of the Statue. A picture I can still see in my mind’s eye. The next night we had invited some of Stuart’s & Gretch’s friends to have dinner with us at a nearby restaurant. The bar of one of Brooklyn’s large hotels was a favorite meeting place for service men and their wives. There we met the friends and also a very friendly bar tender, who upon meeting me asked if I had anymore daughters at home for one of his sons. His friendliness proved my undoing. One drink is all I can tolerate. Every time I turned my head to talk to one of our party he filled my glass again and I, heedless as ever, did not notice. Every one else saw what was doing done but no one stopped him. We went to the restaurant to find our table was set up on the second floor, three steps up in full view of the first floor then a turn to an enclosed stairs. I got through the dinner alright but worried about those three stairs to get down in full view of the lower floor. I have recalled with many a laugh at the word Dick used to encourage me. He said, after I was safely down, “You negotiated those steps with dignity.” The overdone dignity when you are trying too hard. Gretch and Dick walked me back to our apartment and then went on with the party. But, bless their hearts, they called me every half hour to see if I was alright. Our trip to New York was a happy one. Stuart had tickets for all the good shows. We watched the Rockettes perform

88 twice. When back in Detroit questioned about that particular show Dick always said he watched the dancers once the next time he watched Mama. I have never minded being called Mama, in fact several of Dick’s men friends took up the custom and I felt as if it were used as a term of endearment. While in New York we did the usual things tourists do. We rode in the subway, we drove up Fifth Avenue. We saw the Statue of Liberty, shopped at Lord and Taylors and other stores, window shopped Cartiers, saw several plays whose names I have forgotten, but I have never forgotten the Rockettes. They were so cleverly costumed, they all looked to be the same height, a long line of precision dancers. I admit I was entranced by the whole Christmas show. That year we had been asked to conserve oil so we lived in just half of our house. Dick made a wood closing to shut off the living room, took the dining room furniture into the living room, turned the dining room into a living room and closed off two bed rooms upstairs. We kept track of our oil bills for the time we were asked to conserve until it was no longer necessary. We had saved only eleven dollars. Maybe that helped in the war effort but it was a lot of furniture moving. Also, because I was so lonesome without Gretch and Stuart, I started baking bread every Saturday, I guess, to keep busy. I had never baked bread before so it was a new adventure. Beside the large loaves, I had a slightly smaller loaf that I called my “give away” loaf. The first person who came to our house after the bread was baked got the “give away” loaf. As strawberries and raspberries came in season guests had a quart of either berries added to the bread. One Saturday evening Guy Hornung (the same Guy

89 Hornung who had stopped at my parent’s home the night I was born 1893) with his wife came to see us and picked a heaping quart of raspberries to carry away with the bread. The next Saturday evening Guy and Janet arrived early enough to be able to pick raspberries while it was still light. And again they departed with the “give away” loaf plus berries. This next statement you are not going to believe but it is absolutely true. Guy and Janet came up the long driveway early in the evening. Three Saturdays in a row seemed a bit too much, having known of the “give away” loaf. Anyway I had not baked that day. So I called out to them, “You are out of luck today, I didn’t bake.” However they departed with the usual quart of raspberries. People are funny! However, we enjoyed their company and certainly it was a long standing acquaintance having begun the night I was born. We were glad when Spring and summer came that year and we could and did open all the rooms we had closed off to save oil. Dick had already built a small chicken house with an artistic little cupola astride the roof. One of our neighbors, who knew more about chickens than we did, agreed to raise the small chicks that Dick bought until they were six weeks old. So Dick blithely set out and bought twenty five hens and twenty five roosters. That in itself shows how much we knew about raising chickens. Did anyone who reads this ever hear a beginning crow from a young rooster? It sounds like a rusty hinge and twenty five crowing at once made us glad neighbors were not too near us. We enjoyed having fresh eggs and every where we were invited we proudly carried a dozen fresh eggs in a carton with

90 “Dickerson’s Four Acres” boldly printed in big black letters across the carton. Unfortunately, when food was rationed under the rules during the war years some enterprising thief backed a truck up from a back road and stole all the chickens but one we called Lamey. However nothing daunted, Dick bought more, and this time two of the most beautiful roosters whose feathers would put a glorious sunset to shame. We also had a little brown bantam hen with her own personal rooster. The years flow along each of us busy with our own pursuits. We played bridge in a club where each couple brought something for a pot luck dinner. Another crowd which was not called a club but well might have been since we always entertained the same crowd. Mr. and Mrs. Herman Browe previously mentioned as Assistant Superintendent of Detroit Schools and Mr. and Mrs. Maquier Dick’s Principal before he was promoted. They had been a crowd of eight for years but increased the group by two couples for an extra table. All through my teaching career Herman Browe seems to have been a genial, smiling force in the background even to seeing that I did not lose my pay when a terrible blizzard made it impossible to get out of our driveway. Dick’s supervisor had him down to his office and then took him to lunch at the Athletic Club. But that type of thing one does not talk about freely. Many others did not make it to their work that day, but I never asked about their pay. I can’t remember how long Gretch worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard but eventually she had to stop working. When she told her Boss that she was expecting her first child he really

91 was extremely angry and shouted, “There ought to be a law against it,” which we thought very funny. Stuart and Gretch came home for a short stay while Stuart recovered from an operation on the lower spine, a cyst. Gretch was having her troubles also and it was a surprise to see her lose her composure at the immense relief to be safely home. They stayed the length of Stuart’s leave and then took the train back leaving their convertible with us. We had so enjoyed the month they had been with us but as usual, watching them walking away to board the train, I felt as if strings attached to my heart were being physically torn from my heart. I do not feel this way at the ordinary farewell after a pleasant week end visit. The days Gretch left for school and her departure for her honeymoon were somehow different. Gretch stayed in Brooklyn until the latter part of October when she came home to await the birth of her first child. Steven was born December 4, 1944 and we became a proud Grandmother and Grandfather. Everyone in both of our schools were interested in the event of Steven’s birth even sending mail addressed to Grandfather Dickerson, so many in fact all of the staff at Burt School had been entertained at our home when I gave a tea for five teachers who were retiring. Floris Tupper, a close friend and wife of our doctor, was one of the retiree’s. The next morning our phone rang. It was Floris asking me to come and get her so she could come out, eat leftovers, and talk about the party. That tea was the first of several parties when the whole Burt School celebrated the end of June with a luncheon arranged by the Social Comm. One year it was treasure hunt with directions fastened on trees, porches, etc., where to look next

92 but what the treasure was I have completely forgotten. Another last of semester celebration was a steak roast with our outdoor fire place and two borrowed portable grills keeping the men busy cooking. Everyone always seemed to have a good time. I know I did for I would rather entertain than be entertained. The Spring after Steven’s birth he was left in our care while Gretch visited Stuart in Brooklyn. We had a very competent housekeeper who cared for the baby and I gladly took over in the evenings. It is difficult for me to realize the adored little boy is a man thirty six years old with a little girl of his own and twins on the way in the near future. He flies a plane and is now learning to fly a helicopter as of the year 1980. His Grandfather spent hours with Steven and we had what we called our morning, afternoon and evening rides. Each of different length and direction. One of the first words he said we gradually could see meant Grandpa. Finally we realized the sounds he was making sounded like Konya, so I was Monya now, instead of Mama. Life during the war years was not all honey and pie, even though our daughter was with us with the added bonus of our first grandchild. Rationing of so many foods meat, sugar, etc. made things difficult. I was fortunate in having friends who, knowing we needed extra sugar for canning purposes gave me their stamps. I well remember one social event at school, one of the rare occasions when I was not on the social committee. Their menu planned, they found no way to get the strawberry Jello they needed. They asked me what I could do. I, in turn, stopped at the store where we bought our meat and groceries. Since the owner of the store had recently asked me if he and

93 his entire staff could have an outdoor picnic at our house, I knew if Jello was available I would get it. The night of the picnic great mounds of hamburger and spare ribs were consumed with no thought of rationing. When I asked Charles for Jello he told me the supplies had not been delivered but they would be later in the day. So up the driveway at dusk walked Charles, a little bag with five boxes of Jello in his hand and our school party menu was saved. I am not, necessarily proud of the fact that we bent the law badly, but we had lots of company, which fact does not make it right. Item: Read paper on The Great Depression in World War 1 The War over Stuart’s discharge point was Detroit so he with a friend came in the Fall of 1945. The process took some time but they finally were discharged September 27, 1945, and a happy friend left for his home in Chicago. That summer Dick had started to build what he called the chicken’s sitting room, larger than the room where the nests were and their sleeping roost. Now, with Stuart home, he had help to finish the work. All summer Dick had worked in a leisurely fashion as I did with taking care of the garden produce, canning etc. We both enjoyed our time with our grandson. How, with Stuart to help, the work was quickly finished and their friendship and respect for one another quickly cemented. Somewhere along here my little old Ford must have given up for Dick had resumed picking me up at school since he no longer had to leave Tappan early to get to the place where he had trained young men for the war effort, and again we were a busy household. I have put off writing of my Father’s death for I knew it

94 would be difficult for me. It doesn’t seem to get any easier. As I have written, after he fell at my sister’s home he was rushed to the hospital in Flint. On his return to Fenton he was placed in a nursing home. We also hired a nurse whose only duty was to care for Father. The doctor had ordered wine for a mid-afternoon drink for him and Ida Mae kept Father well supplied. On checking his supply one day it seemed to her that there was very little left of the bottle she had so recently brought to him, but she put wine on her list to be taken to him on her next visit. The next day Ida Mae parked in front of the home. Getting out of the car she wondered what on earth was tumbled into the deep snow bank. It was the nurse’s derrière, her head buried in the snow. Now my sister knew where the wine had gone. Ida Mae quickly dismissed the wine drinker and hired the nurse who later brought her family to Fenton and took Father into her home as her only patient. Ed and Clara came from Texas that summer and lived there in the same house so Father had all of his family around him and I made frequent trips to Fenton to see him but it wasn’t like having him with us and I regretted his absence. Father died in 1942. I had been out to see him three days before he died. He put his arms around my neck and said, “Help me, help me.” It was almost more than I could bear. We took him to Mt. Pleasant where many old friends were gathered at the cemetery. I was comforted by the words of the minister. He spoke of the many records Father had written, his own hand writing in the huge Probate record books, showing proof of the existence of Charles Cassady and his two daughters, Addie and Gertrude. Addie had been Father’s

95 Register of Probate and one summer I had taken her place for a very short time. I remember the huge record books and that I copied Mike Kane’s will. Other than that memory fails me. But it does go to show that in a small town more things are known about you than you realize. Anyhow thinking along that line gave me comfort. I had not wanted Father to go unhonored and unsung. To resume my story. The next few months were busy ones for all of us. Stuart and Gretch had decided to start a gift shop in a store on Grand River owned by Stuart’s parents. Dick immediately turned the recreation room into a work room and built all the display tables there. Gretch’s supplies purchased, then came a delay. The store had not been vacated so our dining room was piled high with the stock. In the meantime Stuart went to work in the gas station near the store and one he had worked in vacation times from school. This move resulted in the purchase of the station by Stuart and his cousin’s husband. Dick and a friend cleaned Gretch’s store and helped her move in and set up her display. We sent out invitations to a few interested people for a private opening and party afterward at our house. Thus the children were in business in the same neighborhood. This was in 1946 and we had as a housekeeper, Mae Butcher, whose handsome son declared we were “elbow cousins.” My sister Addie and Mae had married brothers, Jim and Ward. Ward had recently passed away leaving a very limited estate and Mae was glad to be with us. We were glad to have her because the care of Steven was involved and I was only too happy to help all I could.

96 Steven was talking now and when he heard us call Mae, Aunt Mae, it came from him “Ah Me” and from that time on she became “Ah Me” even to the extent of some one who did not know us too well asking if we had a Chinese cook. How I would have liked to answer yes to that question but could not aspire to such an affluent style of living. Now began very pleasant years for our little family. Everyone was so busy that it was a joyful occasion when we found the time to all be together. I remember one summer evening, all relaxing on our big porch, talking a mile a minute, telling stories etc. The next morning Dick and I were sitting in the back yard near the outdoor fire place. Around the end of the garage walked a complete stranger. He introduced himself as the new owner of the house across the stream from us and declared there must be someone over here who told good stories. For, as he said, he could hear bursts of laughter, then silence, another burst of laughter and he then decided he was going to get acquainted with that crowd. We were glad to meet him and became very good friends. We, as usual, were busy. Gretch with her gift shop, Stuart with his gas station, Dick with his work singing in the Detroit Schoolmens Chorus, President of the Industrial Arts fraternity, one trip away every year, the chorus going where the N.E.A. holding it’s national meeting. I seemed always busy, always something at school, always at least one big production which I have talked about before. And of course the home and household did not run it’s self. While Dick always insisted that I have help there are always many things a Mother finds necessary to do. I am going to tell you of something that happened on one of

97 Dick’s trips with the Detroit Chorus. They were on their way to a meeting of the N.E.A. at St. Louis Missouri. Dick left their private coach going into the Club car, sat at a table for two, the only vacant place. The man across the table, learning that Dick was from Detroit, said that he had a friend that often went to a small town near Detroit. His father was in a nursing home and his sisters and brother had been with him for his Father’s birthday. His friend mentioned that his father had a poem that he wanted some one to read to the rest of the party, which he said, his youngest sister did and managed to get through it without breaking down. “Yes, she did,” Dick said, “That was my wife, Ed. Cassady’s sister.” To me that is a coincidence worthy of repeating. The stranger was Superintendent of an adjoining suburb of Chicago and had known Ed. for years. Ed. was Superintendent of the Brookfield, Ill., Schools for forty years which I think I have mentioned before. Later that Spring the Schoolmen were entertaining their wives at dinner at Devon Gables not too far from our home. Dick had invited our most intimate group to stop by at our house after the dinner. We had not invited the Business Manager but on second thought Dick felt he should. Relaxed between courses Dick walked to Mr. Baker’s table and invited him with his wife to join our crowd. He must not have heard correctly for he immediately stood up and announced that Dick would like to have all of us come to his home after dinner. I tried not to look shocked as did Dick. The only reaction Marian Porter, wife of the soloist, and our good friend, was boring her finger in my back.

98 We had invited only sixteen and there were forty-eight men and their wives. No need to count. You can imagine, preparations made for sixteen, ninety six about to descend upon us. Quickly our table went into action. So and so to go to a store for more bread and sandwich filling, this man to take care of parking cars, this one for more cream for coffee etc. etc. Lucky for me that I always make too much so by stretching a little and adding some, preparation for sixteen became food for ninety six. They were in the living room, on the porch, in the dining room, kitchen, and breezeway and I am sure it turned out to be more fun than if it had been planned. Our little grandson provided the only disturbing element. The men all sang, at any time, joyfully, but I think it frightened Steven and he cried at first until I comforted him and he got used to it. In the light of following devastating events, how happy I was to have had them all as our guests. For several years back I had been considering the idea of leaving the Auditorium to become a Home Room Teacher. Our District Principal, Mr. Laing, knew this and brought in a young woman Coryl King, who took half of the classes thus, making my work load much easier. Coryl King was a delightful young person and we worked very well together. When I came back to the Auditorium from a free period, to hear my very own words, even to voice inflection coming from Coryl, I just smiled a secret smile and thought perhaps I had influenced one person in my life any way. I am sure the poor child never realized that she was repeating anyone’s words. We worked happily together for three years, until finally I made the change I had been thinking about. It meant giving up the extra money, the Auditorium teacher being the highest paid

99 next to the Assistant Principal. But it also meant only forty five all morning and another forty five in the afternoon. Much different than ninety every class period until by the end of the week every child in the building had been in the Auditorium two or three times during that week. Think of the names I had to remember! Is it any wonder I often called a student honey? Picture ninety second graders squirming around, twisting each others arm, crying because they can’t remember where they were to sit. And does anyone realize what it means to use those same squirming children in the two big productions yearly? And charge admittance, so it had to be a really good show? Oh! how I do go on. Now in this period of my life you find me for the second time nearly killing myself trying to reduce. I have always had to take thyroid to keep going. So, knowing it was used to help one reduce I thought I could increase the prescribed one tablet. I increase and increased until I was downing seven each morning. I was sitting at my desk one day when the class disappeared completely. They came back into view only to go away again. Then I decided perhaps I better see Dr. Tupper. He was very cross with me and made me take one less tablet daily until I finally got back to one. Would you believe anyone could be so foolish? The second time, however, I had trouble also. I had heard of a Dr. in Pontiac who socialized in reducing people. This time, I thought, nothing can happen. I lost weight to the extent that the office was kept busy answering my student’s questions. The Principal finally came to my room both in AM and PM and assured the youngsters that I did not have cancer. I would gladly have reassured them if they had asked me.

100 I reduced until my clothes all had to be altered. Then everyone started asking me not to diet anymore. “You don’t look like yourself,” they cried. Of course I didn’t look like myself. That’s what I was trying to do, change my appearance. Dr. Norman Clarke (one of the original Saturday AM kindergarten) gave me friendly advise saying people would urge me to stop dieting but I must keep on. Dick was not much help either when watching me eating a poached egg not anchored by a piece of toast; he declared he wanted me to have what I wanted. I persisted in my effort and ended up in Northville Hospital with what proved to be a strep infection in my throat. I was quarantined in my hospital room for a night and day until they had the results of a culture sent to the Herman Kieffer Contagious Disease Hospital in Detroit. Dr. Stone feared I might have diphtheria. Fortunately, that was not the verdict. I was in the hospital ten days with shots of penicillin doing its magic but we soon found out I was allergic to the magic drug. Dr. Stone warned that if I did not get to Florida right away I would, as he so delicately put it, be six feet under. If I did not go to Florida and continued in my stubborn way, I was to go right home from school, have an eggnog and so to bed, eating dinner in bed. I kept to that schedule for weeks. When we stopped for groceries Dick wouldn’t let me carry so much as a loaf of bread. I felt utterly useless and what about my diet? Eggnogs would certainly ruin all my past efforts. Dr. Stone said we would take care of that later. Dr. Stone’s office was next to Gretch’s gift shop. When Dr. Tupper moved quite a distance away and no longer made house calls we had changed to Dr. Stone but soon hastened back

101 under Dr. Roy’s wing. Floris, his wife, was a very close friend of mine. How fortunate we were to have made that return in the light of later events. Coryl King and I had remained close friends, she had been much concerned about my recovery. She knew how quietly I had been living(for me). She wanted me to go to a supper her downtown church was giving with an entertainment after. Coryl’s parents would be there and I was very fond of them. They were a lovely family. Coryl was to drive and would bring me home so I could scarcely refuse. The plans made ahead of time, we had no way of knowing that Dick would be home with a very bad heavy, chest cold, most unusual for him. He insisted that I go ahead with the plan for Gretch and AhMe were both there to care for him. So I went, but not with the usual gay heart and I do not know why I had such a sense of foreboding. I told Mrs. King, when she asked about Dick, how worried I felt. There was something wrong and I did not really enjoy my first venture out after such a long time spent resting, my bedroom and school room seemingly my whole world. It was almost as if I expected it that I found Dick terribly over wrought, his night clothing soaked, clinging to his body, the tumbled sheets damp almost as wet as his clothing. I urged him to get up and take a shower while I changed his bed. It was then I realized how frightened he was when he thought he should not be moved too much. Dick, my Rock of Gibraltar, frightened - my heart almost stopped but I quickly gave him a sponge bath and much against his wishes moved him over on to my bed while I put fresh linen on his. Back in his own bed Dick leaned against the upholstered

102 back rest while I pretended a calm I did not feel. I had never seen Dick like this before. I was frightened, terribly frightened for suddenly he began to gasp for air and I flew to the telephone. How fortunate that I had Dr. Tupper’s unlisted number. With a terrorized watch on my husband a trembling hand on the phone I reached Dr. Tupper. He was there within minutes. And it was then that I realized I had not called Gretch who was down stairs in the living room. When would I learn to call for help when needed? Dr. Tupper and his nurse came the next morning and the cardiogram they took showed a slight damage to Dick’s heart. I wish now, that it is too late, that we could have kept him somehow from knowing all the details. And I would have insisted on letting him smoke his pipe often. It was not his pipe at fault, it was the time early in Spring that Dick had found a fence post worked up through the gravel of the drive way. He with almost super human strength pulled it up, staggered over to the entrance stone wall and tried almost in vain to breath naturally. That was the beginning of his trouble. Now came a time when I not only had to pretend a calm, I simply had to be calm. When the Doctor allowed him to go back to school, suddenly our roles were reversed. It was now my turn to protect Dick and I drove him to school every morning and called for him in the afternoon. This went on for several weeks. Then, one Friday afternoon, I found my husband seated in front of the building, his name plate for his desk in his lap, a forlorn figure, and I was moved to tears, quickly suppressed. Dick was still under a doctor’s care up and about, yet not

103 quite himself and, of course, no longer teaching. Someone also in his department, or perhaps the principal, must now make the detailed report on each member of the Industrial Arts which was due each June. Dick was disappointed for he had been anxious to again recommend one Earl Phillips for a promotion. We were very fond of Earl and his wife, Rose. Several years after I moved to Three Rivers they came over to see me. Dick seemed to gain a bit but very gradually. However, he was up and dressed every morning. On the days he had some activity planned, again he drove me to school. It was on one morning that we were talking about what work he might pursue until I could retire. As we passed the grocery store a bakery truck was just delivering the days supplies. I suggested that outdoor type of work would be fine for him. I understood, also, that it paid well. I was aghast when Dick said he couldn’t do it because he would not know where to go. An indication of how he had failed, if I could have accepted it. Things at school were following their natural course. Every one was much concerned about Dick. His nights were very bad. He seemed unable to sleep so many nights we dressed and I drove my restless husband along the quiet city streets, leaning on my shoulder at last asleep. It was just at this time that the Principal, Miss Phillips, asked me, as well as the other teachers, to let her observe one lesson to help her rate my ability. I prepared the lesson, made careful plans and was just beginning when a phone call from home, brought to me by the secretary asked me to come home immediately. Miss Phillips took over my class and I received my usual high rating.

104 Somehow the above statement sounds immodest but I can’t say I was a failure when that is not the case. In the Detroit Schools the grades kindergarten through the eighth grade schools are divided into districts each with a District Principal. There in the school where they have their office must come every person who is destined to run a school of their own. So in my twenty four years at Burt School I taught under the supervision of seventeen principals with only one that I really disliked and she brought it on herself. I won’t name her but will call her Miss. M. While at Burt she had a long illness. Mr. Laing, our District Principal, asked me to come down to the office and take over for Miss. M. and he would, and did, call for a substitute for the Auditorium. Unfortunately, Miss. M. always played favorites and it was not she the favorite whom Mr. Laing called. In talking the situation over with Mr. Laing who was aware of the favorite, he said supposing Miss. M. doesn’t like it she will be soon gone and you will still be here. Miss. M. was rather “cool” to me on her return after her illness. Just not “too cool” for her promotion depended upon Mr. Laings evaluation. The call which summoned me home saw me driving as fast as I dared frightened for what I might find there. Dick was terribly over wrought and nervous but when he found that Miss Phillips had told me to stay home in the afternoon he calmed down. He did not have a heart attack. In fact after a few hours he felt well enough to go downstairs and sit on the porch for it was a nice warm spring day. I grasped at any tiny hint that Dick would, “perhaps” throw off this illness and be more like himself. How willfully we fool ourselves. I think now that Dick knew more than he would

105 admit, and that that was the cause of the nervous spells. We had planned to go North on a trip with Babe and Herbert Rozell our most intimate friends. We had set a date but Herbert couldn’t go until later. We were going in our car with Herbert doing the driving. When Herbert changed the date Dick casually remarked that we better go soon while he was still able. We took the trip early in July, stopping early in the afternoon to let Dick rest before going to dinner. I think, looking back, that we all played a part, trying to pretend things were as they always had been on other trips we had taken together. Dick gradually grew less and less self confident and this was heart-breaking to see. Finally he went to the hospital and we had every hope that he would get help. Stuart and Gretch were so hopeful that they had everything planned. They said they wanted to tell me what they were thinking and we sat down together while they outlined what they had decided. They were going to take over all expenses of running the household. They asked me if, with Dick’s pension, I could manage my own needs plus medical bills and a nurse to care for Dick. I have never forgotten the comfort that gave me, such a feeling of security. But, alas! the plans never had to be used for Gretch’s father and my husband passed away August the twenty third, 1948. The dreaded blow had finally fallen and it was such a final thing. The evening of August 22nd Herbert and Babe were with us at the hospital and Dr. Norman Clarke and Lucile came. I remember when Norm came in with such an air of assurance I

106 was grasping at any straw of hope that now perhaps things might change. Early on the morning of August 23rd we had a call from the hospital only to find Dick gone without us. From then on I remember such unrelated happenings. Of the dozens of people I greeted at the Funeral Home, I remember Marie Browe telling me Herman was coming that evening. I told her not to let him come for he had a heart attack that kept him from his office for a year. When Herman came we walked together to see Dick. Herman, gazing down at the still form, said with sadness, “Some do and some don’t.” Flowers were everywhere. I never realized we had so many friends and relatives. And to me the flowers made the sadness a bit easier to bear. If you asked me who came back to the house after our farewells to Dick I couldn’t tell you. I sat in the living room on the davenport while Marian and Howard Porter supervised getting dinner most of which they had prepared but why or how that happened I have never known. The men who were there had all congregated on the big porch and suddenly there was laughter. I thought I couldn’t stand it. While sitting there Norm sat down beside me and asked me if now I would be willing to lean a little on my good friends. Lean? When the one person I had turned to all my life gone? For three days I sat on that same davenport numb, while Gretch and Ida Mae and I talked. Ida Mae ever the very best when one is in trouble had thoughtfully came prepared to stay if needed, and she surely was needed. I was so glad to have Ida Mae there. I was numb, nothing

107 looked right to me, nothing seemed natural, and I simply could not see how I was to go on, alone. Finally thoughts of school soon to start the day after Labor Day crept into the numbed mind what to do? How was I ever to teach and face everyone in such a short time? Gretch and Stuart talked to me and said I should do as I wished, take more time, perhaps, till finally I felt like going back. I thought about this and I knew it would be difficult whenever I went back, and putting it off would not make it any better. My friends all rallied around me as they had during Dick’s illness. Gertrude Maculsay insisted upon driving me to school when she found out that I had decided to go the first day. I was grateful for her offer and told her if possible to stay with me to answer and talk when I found it difficult. But, I had decided, much as I appreciated her kind offer, to drive myself. After today I might as well get used to things. The first day was hard as many following have been. Now I was to find out how your social life and even your business life changes when you are no longer a twosome. How fortunate I was to have Gretch and Stuart and little Steven there to welcome me home every afternoon. The years now are years of adjustment getting used to being alone, getting used to any number of things which only accent your aloneness. We had had a bridge club of three tables. One couple moved during the summer and since I was alone they continued to play but with only two tables. Later in the Fall it was Marian and Howard Porters turn for the club. Marian wanted me to come for she knew I would enjoy the dinner and seeing everyone again. I stood it as long as I could and then

108 excused myself by saying I must go early. I drove out Grand River almost blinded by tears I just drove on and on not caring where I went. Eventually, of course I came to my senses only to find myself miles away from my right turn onto Lasher and home. And at home a smiling face to present to Gretch, Stuart and their guests. I learned the hard way not to burden anyone with my grief. Now began a search for some kind of contentment. I was invited to join the Business and Professional Women’s Club of Ferndale. Many of my friends belonged and I found I enjoyed the club very much but soon found myself the Secretary much as I protested. The second year at mid point the president moved away and I was asked to finish that year and was elected the next year. As acting President I had to preside at the annual Career Day put on by the club. It called for me to address the entire High School among other things. I recall it was quite an undertaking and all I now remember is that I did what I had too. If I had saved the Ferndale papers I could show you the front page and a picture of your Grandmother (me). The next year the twenty-fifth anniversary of the club and this time introducing the Mayor and other notables with my picture beside the State of Michigan representative, my pearl beads all twisted on one side. I ask myself how and why do I get into these difficult things and my sister Ida Mae answers, “You have been running for the last three years, maybe now you will slow down” And I say, “Perhaps, we’ll see.” I don’t know who first mentioned a trip around the Gaspe, but Harriet, my sister-in-law, ever ready to agree to any scheme

109 of mine, joyfully consented to go. So, in the summer of 1950, joined by Ida Gardener, we ventured forth in my car. Here I wish I could remember more details and dates. I should have kept a diary of days, names of towns visited, etc. One of the highlights at the start of the trip was our cruise around the Thousand Island with a guide pointing out islands of special interest. We saw the magnificent Pullman summer home on one of the larger islands and our guide pointed out the small island which had been given to Arthur Godfrey. Unfortunately, we got mixed up with the police in Montreal. Ida Gardiner was supposed to have our route all planned out. She had it planned up to the cities and the route to take out of the towns, but, how to get through was a question. So, when close to Montreal we saw guides advertised, we stopped and hired one to take us to a motel and for the next day. He took us to a nice motel where a nice little old Frenchman made us welcome. But, within an hour a policeman was at our door. It seems the nice looking young man was not trust worthy. He had driven a party of tourists to a motel, and then had taken their Cadillac for his own use. The car, somehow, got bogged down in wet sand almost like quicksand and became a matter for the police. And, the police did not intend that to happen to us. He told us where to go the next morning to hire a guide that could be depended upon. That left us to drive back and tell the young man he would not be needed. He was not there and the next morning he arrived fresh faced and smiling. He told the little Frenchman in no uncertain fashion how he felt, for it was he, the Frenchman, who had called the police. We found a driver the next morning, a pleasant young man

110 university trained as are all the registered guides. It was pleasant to sit and enjoy the drive with no worry of where to park etc. From a long flight of steps we entered the Cathedral where crutches, braces, wheel chair had been discarded after miraculous cures. There were any number of small Chapels the whole thing awe inspiring. We shopped in a large department store and did the usual touristy things. Note: The Cathedral mentioned is in Quebec Saint Anne de Beaupre (I made a mistake) Our next important stop was Quebec, though we had an overnight rest in a Canadian Three Rivers then on to Quebec. By this time we had seen I don’t know how many Cathedrals, Ida Gardiner’s passion. We had learned of an island offshore from Quebec where we would see the primitive two high wheeled oxen carts still being used, a quaint custom and an added bonus Cathedral! By this time driving in Quebec with no knowledge whatever of routes to take had convinced me we needed a driver, Harriet and Ida thought not and off we started only to make my first mistake. I drove the wrong way on a one-way street with one exasperated on looker saying, “Oh let her go!” So, go I did. I had learned how to get to the Chateau Frontenac and I wheeled up to the Frontenac and stopped at the entrance. The door man sensing trouble asked if he could be of help. As usual, under stress, my answer was not very polite. I remarked that the car could sit there and rot before I would drive any more in Quebec! The door man just laughed and said strong men had said the same and did we want a driver. With that, one whistle brought a nice young man to drive for us. As we left the Frontenac the driver turned and went toward

111 the narrowest street in the world. To get into it I swear the car hung half its length in midair before dropping onto the pavement. Houses flush with the street. Full view of the rooms and children swarming all over the car asking in French for money. The driver had warned us not to be generous. We toured the island and back to the hotel for a very elegant tea in a very lovely room. I was content for knowing we had to drive onto a ferry to cross the St. Lawrence after another day sight seeing that the driver would put us aboard. Little did I know then of two other ships I would have to board with no driver to help. Our guide drove the car onto the ferry which took us across the Saint Lawrence as we said farewell to Quebec City. I shall see if I can include one or two pictures and one letter I wrote thirty seven years ago on this trip. So if I get my cities in the wrong order you need not be surprised. We traveled in several provinces of Canada, Quebec, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, drove the mountain roads, dined in all kinds of restaurants, found only one where no English was spoken. Fortunately it was breakfast, and Harriet remembered the French word for egg and so we had a good breakfast. When making plans for this trip we found we must make reservations for passage on ship from Digby, Nova Scotia, across the Bay of Fundy to Calais, Maine, and the date we would be there. We spent two days in Grand Pre and did so enjoy the scene of Longfellow’s poem Evangeline. The Memorial Park with so many reminders of the poem leaves you feeling as if you were back in that time.

112 We made Digby in plenty of time in fact we stayed there three days in a cabin on the side of the mountain looking down on the Bay. We had our meals in the main lodge and took short trips daily. Back in the U. S. A. we enjoyed Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, crossed back into Canada then back at Windsor to again get to Detroit and home. My second grandchild had been born the winter before February 16th, 1950, and had been named Dick for his Grandfather Dickerson so I was happy to be home to again see Steven and Dick. What a short time it seems looking back, and where have the years gone that have made them men and me an old lady. School, of course, in the Fall as usual, but now a drastic change in the arrangement of our family. Stuart had the Ford Agency in Three Rivers, Michigan, and would shortly leave Detroit, Gretch and the children to go later. The year 1950 saw many things change in my life. A pleasant event was the birth of my middle grandson, Dick Stuart Stuckey. Named for his father and grandfather and almost a Valentine for he was born February 16th, 1950. To see him now at thirty a fine looking, strong young man it is hard to remember the soft, little, wriggling bit of humanity brought prematurely into this world. Because of this Gretch and Stuart called him Wormy and friends did the same. Finally, I rebelled and willfully acted like an interfering mother-in-law. I have always tried to keep “hands off” of their affairs but this time I spoke “long and loud.” I did not want them to give the baby a nick name that he would carry the rest of his life and so the nickname was

113 dropped. I never had as much care of Dick as I had of Steven and Charles but he holds a special place in my heart just the same. I remember I hated to part with the children when they would finally have to go. As soon as the furniture that Gretch had purchased was delivered in Three Rivers she was ready to leave. One of their intimate friends had just joined the Detroit police force and he wanted to see this new set up. So babes and all we went to Three Rivers and looked things over. The house was old but spacious and near the school in which Steven would be enrolled. This was our first separation which would be permanent. So soon after losing Dick I faced a rather lonely time. I think I remember that I got through our farewells without weeping but the poor boy driving my car did the only thing he knew how to do, he let me weep. As he left me he made me promise to call him any time day or night if I was frightened or needed help. It was a promise I was glad to make. Aunt Mae, called Ah Me, was still our housekeeper until I finally got ashamed of myself for even having help, as I listened to young teachers with children telling how they managed without help. School, as usual, with many new principals to get accustomed too since this was where they trained. A succession of people renting a room from me for one reason or another. I was always glad to have some one in the house with me. My greatest struggle at this time was keeping the garden looking nice and the lawn mowed. We had twenty six fruit

114 trees in the orchard, the driveway partially lined with small bushes and trees too numerous to mention, all of which took time to clip around. I was determined the place must look as it had with Dick supervising, but to whom could I turn? Fortune smiled on me when, through a chance remark Joe Tranchida, Mrs. Fisher and her son, Glen came into the picture. Joe Tranchida, able to do most anything, paint furniture, cut down a beautiful cherry old fashioned library table for a coffee table. Find the place where I could buy pink marble I wanted. Carefully measure the top and the marble purchased and cut, sit back and admire and discuss the ability that created such beauty. I could not have kept the place going without all three. Mrs. Fisher who candidly announced she would work for no one else and only for me when, (her own words) the place needed to be hoed out. In the mean time Glen was a treasure, he mowed the lawn, helped me clean bath rooms, change beds, vacuum, arrange beautiful and artistic bouquets, and best of all the three of them rejoiced with me when the place looked nice. In going back to some of the things I have written about, perhaps I have put too much emphasis on pleasant things. Naturally, unpleasant things happened: a co-worker with the type of action which rubs one the wrong way, lack of money, students who do not respond as desired, or a new principal in charge with habits not leading to Harmony. I could go on and on but as I try to write this story I find I seem to remember more pleasant things than unpleasant. Since I am a Republican, listening to the returns of Harry Truman’s victory when he was returned to office for his second term might qualify for something unpleasant. The only way it could be considered unpleasant was that we had to go out on

115 the porch and change some signs. Television sets were not so common then but we had a good one bought with the money from the sale of Dick’s chickens which we no longer could care for. Gretch had carved two large pumpkins, one with a wide smile one with corners of his mouth turned down. The smile Dewey, the frown Truman. While our guests were still there the signs had to be changed, for it was a tremendous victory for Truman. I have lived long enough and have read enough about Truman and have changed my mind and am sure Truman will go down in history as a great President. Writing of Truman calls to my mind my first trip to Washington, D.C. Coryl King, her father, and a girl who lived with them since the death of Coryl’s Mother asked me to join them on the trip. Ever ready to travel I gladly accepted and as on other trips made a lunch for all of us. It allowed us to stop only for dinner at the end of the day. Every hundred miles the girls changed the driver seat. That way no one was too worn out and allowed us more time in Washington for we were on Spring vacation. For me, the two most impressive things were the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and the Lincoln Memorial. Going up the long flight of steps you enter and gaze upon Lincoln seated looking down and you have no feeling that the statue is enormous. By some magic you feel that Lincoln is sad, he seems so real. At both visits I looked and looked with tears streaming down my face. The second visit in Washington was with my niece Jane, her husband Don Chase their son David, I think about ten, my sister Ida Mae, Steven Stuckey, twelve years old and the driver

116 of the car, me, though Don drove also. Steven slept in a cot in the room with Ida Mae and me. Aunt Ida Mae asked Steven what he was thinking about and what did he like best. He said the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier he liked best and he was just thinking that a soldier was out there still walking just so far each time after he turned toward Washington. My husband, Dick, had been in Washington with the Schoolmen’s Chorus. Most of the men knew of the many times Dick had been mistaken for Jim Parley, at that time Postmaster General. They all urged Dick to see Mr. Parley but he refused to ask on such a flimsy excuse. Personally, I thought my husband the more handsome of the two. These years were the years of large enrollment in classes at school. The first year after I left the Auditorium for what was called a home room I had fifty two students in grade seven B and thirty five arithmetic books to serve all. It took some planning but things finally got better. When we at last could get new books I was sent down to the Board of Education building to make a selection for seventh and eighth grades. I always hoped I made the right choice. I am trying to show you grand children that I really worked quite hard. However, social things intrude because many things began with friends at school. To illustrate I’ll take one Friday after school and the following Saturday. It will be a long story. The son of one of the supervisors downtown was being married on Friday early in the evening. We had all be invited. Reve Egan, our Art teacher, was having a Cocktail Party right after school that same Friday.

117 For that reason I had invited Eleanor Boyle and Catherine King for dinner at my home. I prepared chili and a molded salad for quick serving and other things of course. At Reve’s house we learned that our new principal, whom we hardly knew, lived in Northville and would have to eat alone in Redford. My friends urged me to ask him which I did and he was quite pleased. It was then I realized I had prepared chili and Eleanor and Catherine were both Catholics. The matter was soon solved. Mr. Dain had a station wagon and he suggested that we park our cars at the church parking lot, after Eleanor & Catherine had picked up food they could eat, then drive altogether in his wagon to my house. Somehow another couple had been added to the party and now Mr. Dain had male company. Mr. Dain proved a master hand at planning, Eleanor got the molded salad ready, Catherine set another three places at the table. Mr. Dain kept the chili from burning and attended, with my help, to the Catholic food and coffee. I had not bothered to take off my hat nor had I welcomed Billy G. and her husband whom I did not know very well. Mr. Dain had found the downstairs powder room which I had tried to make more feminine by putting rose decals all over the toilet seat, top and under side. It was just at the time decorated toilet seats were in style and expensive, hence decals had to do. Mr. Dain going in to find Billy G’s husband, asked him if he would like to go to the rose bowl and that it became ever after. A hurried dinner eaten we got to the church in time, saw our cars still there in the parking lot, sat through the ceremony in dignified silence, talked to some friends after the ceremony only to find no one about. We thought this can’t be all there is

118 and soon found our way to the reception. Everyone was ahead of us so Mr. Arthur Dondineau the Superintendent had a crowd around him as did Mr. Herman Browe Assistant Super and Marie, his wife. As we entered the room Mr. Browe saw us, came to meet us, threw his arms around me and gave me a resounding kiss. From behind me I heard a startled male voice most surprised say, “He kissed her!” It was then Mr. Browe told me not to retire right away for there would be changes in the pension set up. Catherine K. knew Marie Browe and while they were talking at length Mr. Dain took my arm and said, “Perhaps you would like to meet our Superintendent? We were walking toward the group around Mr. Dondineau and I had no chance to answer as he tried to introduce me. Arthur Dondineau, smiling, allowed he had known Gertrude for a long time as we had gone to school together. The exact science supervisor seated in the group, called out and asked me if I was still living in that house on Lasher. I said I was, and now to be eighty-eight in January I don’t even remember his name. Mr. Dain, steering me away from the group vowed he wouldn’t try to introduce me to any one because I knew more people than he did. And I said, “I’ve been around lots longer than you have.” Back home to clean up what we had had no time to do, for remember, I have no live-in help anymore, and there is another wedding tomorrow, a Jewish wedding in a hotel on the east side. Mr. Dain had said if Eleanor would drive to my house he would pick us up, get Catherine, and so to the wedding. It was a very different ceremony even different than two other Jewish

119 weddings I had attended. We were not invited to the dinner after the ceremony. Eleanor and Catherine were to stay at my house and eat the chili they couldn’t eat Friday. As I entered Burt School Monday morning I decided to be quite casual if meeting Mr. Dain in the office or hall. After all our acquaintance had a quick start with a cocktail party, a dinner and two weddings. I did not want him to feel I would take advantage and I would make no mention of anything. My good intentions went for nothing for the first person I met in the hall was a smiling Mr. Dain only too ready to stop me and say what a good time we had had. So much for phobia about not taking advantage. Since I have mentioned Mr. Browe again I must tell again how kind and understanding he was. If I had not started to write this story which has forced me to look back and remember things I have not thought of for years, I would never have realized how often the name of Herman Browe enter the story. I shall not write of all the many acts I remember because I fear they would not interest the people who will read this. But two things illustrate. A personal note to me when he had attended a tea that Dick’s fraternity had asked me to arrange when Dick was president of the fraternity. They gave me the “remarkable” sum of fifteen dollars. We turned our dining room the morning of the tea into a factory like assembly line to make sandwiches, the dainty cookies having been made the day before. Therefore the money could be used for flowers to make the club house more homelike. For a busy man to take the time to write a personal note to us in his own handwriting was most appreciated.

120 One other thing shows his kind benevolent nature. He realized I am sure, how down and discouraged I must feel the first Christmas after Dick died. It was Kr. Browe’s custom to dress as Santa Claus pictured on the card he mailed to every Principal and Assistant Principal in the Detroit School system. When I went into the office shortly before Xmas, there in the mail box was a letter. Naturally, I opened it and there was Herman Browe’s smiling face looking exactly like Santa Claus. The first remark I heard, “Well, how do you rate?” I could not answer that but I knew why the card was sent and why sent to the school for he and Marie had been in our home enough so they knew the address. It was his way, sending it to the school which might answer the question, asked and let me know I was being remembered. The first Xmas after Gretch and family moved to Three Rivers they came back home to be there for the usual Xmas morning opening presents. We had invited Stuart’s parents for dinner and we all enjoyed the family gathering. However Stuart and Gretch found it difficult not only bringing all the presents over and very soon, having to pack them again to take back. So from then on it proved much easier for me to go to Three Rivers where I spent many happy vacations. Some where along here my sister-in-law and long time friend, Harriet Dickerson, joined me for a trip to Williamsburg. I seem to have nothing to help me remember the details of that trip. We marveled at the beautifully restored buildings, enjoyed the looks of the women and men dressed as in Pilgrim days. We heard Patrick Henry’s impassioned speech with the well remembered line, “But as for me give me liberty or give me death!” That movie was the first thing we were told to see.

121 That movie and the sight of the first glass making put one in the mood for all the rest. Back from the Williamsburg trip we took up our duties as teachers after the Spring vacation trip. Harriet was wonderful company and we saw each other often though she lived across the city in Dearborn. She had met Dick’s brother at our house long after his first wife had died and a bitter divorce from his 2nd wife left him ready for Harriet’s fun loving nature. But Harriet lost Corwin several years before Dick’s death. One of her favorite remarks was, “The Dickerson men spoil you for any other man.” I echo her sentiment for they were extremely talented. Around 1952 another sister-in-law, Clara, my brother Ed’s wife, wrote to me and asked if I would join her to go on a conducted tour of Alaska. Ed had passed away several years back and Clara was living at that time near her daughter Dorothy in St. Louis, Missouri. As usual, I wanted to go and Clara gave me all the information of where to write etc. Everyone at school seemed to think this was quite an adventure and made such a fuss. Even my principal gave me a lovely travel case. The art teacher my good friend, Reve Egan, made Bon Voyage place mats for last lunch at school and I was amazed at the gifts and good wishes. The trip was fabulous. I went to Three Rivers and Stuart drove me to Chicago where I met our guide. I am ashamed to confess I can’t remember where Clara joined us. I remember we had a drawing room and I did not have to sleep in an upper berth. I had, a week or two before, a very bad fall and had

122 complicated matters by driving Harriet with me to a wedding of Corwin’s granddaughter in Grand Rapids. Every thing turned out alright. With the aid of an ice pack, brought by an obliging porter, every night, I managed the walking we had to do in the various towns we toured before boarding the Chilcotin which took us up the Inner passage. Leaving Seattle we boarded a ship for an overnight sail to Vancouver, shopping in that city and boarding the Chilcotin in early evening. As we came on board the Captain and his crew were lined up looking over their passengers. Shortly after we went to our cabin, the hostess or social director knocked on our door. Upon answering I was told that Clara and I were to sit at the Captain’s table. Never having traveled any length of time by ship but having read plenty, I assumed there would be others there. The social director had remarked that they always tried to put people who would be a challenge to the Captain at his table. Not feeling that Clara and I would be a challenge to anyone, I was surprised to find at breakfast that with the Chief Engineer we made up the Captain’s table. He was a delightful man. His theory was that the Chilcotin was a pleasure ship and he did everything possible to make it a happy time for everyone. At Ketchikan the harbor was filled with small fishing and pleasure boats. We traveled the one mile of pavement to Totem Pole Park where we heard the story that some of the Totem Pole’s told of various events. The next long stop was at Juneau where as we entered the harbor, the towering mountains dwarfed the four storied hotel till it looked like a cardboard box with holes cut into it for windows.

123 We saw the great Mendenhall Glacier, toured the city, saw the beautiful paintings we were told to look for by an Alaska Artist. Watched the folks coming to the night club in the hotel dressed for evening while still broad daylight. As we walked back to the ship after visiting a replica of the old Honky-Tonk saloon it was still broad daylight. The next day we were taken by Narrow Gauge Railroad through the towering mountain across deep valleys, following the treacherous trail the miners took in early gold rush days. Halfway between Juneau and Skagway on this narrow trail, clinging to the side of the mountains is a statue of a miner with his faithful burro. This was erected by the women of Juneau to honor those who died in that mad gold rush. At Skagway we found a Canadian Mounty in full regalia and an authentic Eskimo with sled waiting for tourists to have their picture taken with them for a price. The hill sloping away from the combined depot and restaurant was covered with wild flowers. The little church at the base of the hill was an Episcopal Mission. Both things, flowers and Church, were a surprise to me. Somehow I just didn’t connect the two with Alaska. However, the Governor’s Mansion in Juneau sat among beautiful gardens of flowers. The trip back to Juneau was as spectacular as ever only this time our Pullman chairs were across the aisle from where we sat going up in order for everyone to have a front seat and get a full view of the magnificent scenery. I was glad to be in a back row as the mile high trestle came into view. In the morning in the front row I had watched it coming nearer and nearer and almost held my breath until we were safely across the deep chasm.

124 Back in Juneau, we boarded the Chilcotin and a warning by the Captain to be up and on deck early the next morning. We were to enter Gardiner Pass, a fjord cut deep into the mountainous coastline with just enough space for the ship to turn around and get back to the inner passage. Gazing high up the mountain side we saw what looked like a tiny silver blue ribbon. A mountain stream tumbling down with seven water falls before splashing, almost within cur reach into the water at the side of the ship. I am not an overly religious person but that day in Gardiner Pass I felt the awesome presence of a Supreme Being as never before and here I am nearly forty years later feeling that same assurance. We had many pleasant days on the Chilcotin. Only one unpleasant time the night of the Captain1s dinner. For the first time we left the Inner Passage for the broad ocean, and high waves. The ship not only climbed up the waves it rolled from side to side both topping the waves and going down. I was sea sick, a miserable sensation. I did not join the tour to go ashore at Sitka and see all the Russian things. I had been walking a great deal and elected to just sit on deck. The Captain joined me and I heard many stories about what had happened previously on board. He also praised the adventure of a second marriage. He had just remarried for the second time and he also was the second man to tell me not to judge ether men by my husband’s character and talents. I had not been aware that I had and both men safely married. Back down the inner passage we said our farewell to the Captain and Chief Engineer, two delightful men whose company we had so enjoyed. We left the ship at Vancouver and

125 part of our group went to Banf and Lake Louise. Clara and I with eight or ten others went to Jasper Park since Clara had been to Lake Louise. We had a new tour Director I remember, but we mingled with the other passengers which we had not done when we were a larger group. So for that reason we enjoyed a handsome Scot dressed in full regalia plaid kilts and all. They stopped the train and everyone got off to walk in awe towards Mt. McKinley rearing its snow capped head toward the summer sky. I was surprised when the handsome Scot helped me off the train. First time I ever walked with a man in kilts and back in the train, the ice having been broken, we enjoyed pleasant talk. I can’t remember where we joined the rest of the party but we pounded down the Saskatchewan district, the so-called bread basket of the continent. At Jasper Park we Lad a bungalow with two couples from Abilene. They had all gone to school with Ike Eisenhower. When Ike made a speech in his hometown I remember, for I was watching, it started to rain and someone threw a soft felt hat out to protect Ike from the rain. It was Everet whose last name I can’t remember though I have a lovely colored picture of the two couples. Everet had brought a collection of geld pins which spelled Ike and we were all wearing them. The first night at dinner the captain in the dining room of this very “posh” place said, “What is this EEK, EEK?” The main lodge was an immense log construction, said to be the largest in the world. Shops all along one side, waist high

126 partitions making dozens of snail three sided rooms and furnished for private conversation and on top of each back wall great boxes of petunias. When you entered you were gazing at what looked like an acre or two of colorful flowers. It was one of those elegant places with every room a private bath, your bed slightly opened, a nightgown and robe neatly placed on the bed. An ear ring I had lost in the convertible on the trip into the mountains to see the angel glacier, placed with a note on dressing table. Breakfast was brought to us by boys riding bicycles for the bungalows were widely spaced, over an immense area. As we neared the end of our trip I had said farewell at various stops to many, Clara included, until finally only one couple from Peoria was left to keep me company as we rode toward Chicago. A wonderful trip long to be remembered. As I parted from the Director of the trip he told me my dinner was already paid for and handed me fifty cents for the tip. That is the sort of care one gets on a conducted tour and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Stuart met me in Chicago for the drive back to Three Rivers. This happened to be on a Monday. Glancing at the Three Rivers paper Tuesday night I read that the beautiful, huge log construction at Jasper Park had burned to the ground. I have often wondered if it was ever rebuilt. Later that summer in August my sister-in-law Harriet and I rented a cottage at Tawas where many teachers we knew from Detroit had cottages. Two things remain in my memory of these two weeks. On my trip to Alaska I had met the Supervisor of Music from, Cincinnati, Ohio, together with his wife, his mother his son, and his mother-in law, a delightful group. One of Harriet’s

127 friends invited us to a luncheon which included people who were visiting in Tawas. Upon learning I had been in Alaska earlier in the summer the visitors mentioned that friends of theirs had been on an Alaskan trip. Of course you know they were the same people I had found so delightful. In fact this woman had played the accompaniment for the supervisor’s wife as she sang a solo in church. It would be a lot easier for me to write of these things if I could remember names and I know much easier reading. The second remembered event was my first introduction to a person cheating in a card game. Not openly to make fun but in a sly way. At first I couldn’t believe my eyes but finally had to realize that what I actually saw was a cheat. A peculiar thing to remember. Nevertheless we had a delightful two weeks. I had first met Harriet when I was teaching at the O.W. Holmes School as a substitute. She had never married but when she met Corwin, Dick’s brother, she rapidly changed her mind about staying unmarried. Corwin passed away five or six years before we lost Dick so we comforted one another. There were other times when her kind thoughtfulness was much appreciated. One Christmas that I’ll never forget. I had driven to Three Rivers as usual. But when I drove into the driveway at my daughter’s home, no quickly opened door, and no smiling face to welcome me. Something was wrong very wrong. Gretch had slowly and carefully managed to get downstairs for she was trying very hard to keep from having a miscarriage. She was taken to the hospital where we thought every thing was going to be alright. It was hard for me to leave Gretch in the hospital. I must have felt more dutiful to my school than I would now. Harriet had spent the weekend with

128 me and I had driven her home to Dearborn, halfway across the city. The phone rang as I came in the house. It was Stuart to tell me Gretch had lost the baby. I couldn’t speak, my throat so constricted with tears. Stuart kept asking if I was still on the line and finally we ended our conversation. I called Harriet and she, sensing I was terribly upset, said for me to wait and she would be right over. And she came in a taxi to help me over a hard time. The taxi driver was one she always called to take her shopping etc. so he was willing to wait until she was ready to go home. My sorrow at her passing is unforgettable. The teaching years follow one after another, moments of pleasure, moments of sadness, disappointment and down right grief. Sundays were always difficult for me. I finally gave in and called them my crying days, so, for that reason I frequently invited guests for Sunday night supper. The subject of retirement frequently came up for discussion. I was determined to teach until I was sixty five, though I came under the rule which would allow me to be in service until my seventieth birthday. My sixty-fifth birthday soon to come up I decided to retire in June. My plans changed at the request of “the powers that be.” The same young man, whose wedding has been previously mentioned, was finishing his enlistment in the Armed Forces and wanted his old position back at Burt School. If I retired in June there would be a vacancy to be filled in the fall. But, if I decided to teach two or three months, say, September and October there would be no vacancy and some other school could put up with his erratic actions. He was a likeable young man but one never knew what he would do

129 next. For instance, at dismissal one day he threw his arms about me and kissed me in the full view of students in the hall. I had done some kind of a favor for him, what, I can’t recall, and kissing a sixty-five year old grandmother shouldn’t be misunderstood. It wasn’t. Erratic? Yes! At last I finally was ready to retire, almost regretfully. There had been drastic changes at Burt. Our well loved District Principal, Mr. Laing, had suffered a serious failing in mentality and eventually had to give up. We all could see him failing. NOTE Feb. 14, 1981. Here there has been a long and tedious interruption. The above was written early in December before I got my Xmas cards ready for mailing. Unfortunately that task not completed because of attacks of nausea so frequent lately resulting in a trip to Three Rivers Hospital. There Dr. Bill O’Dell found my blood count extremely low. A count of six when thirteen was desirable. As a result I now have one and three fourths quarts of alien blood sloshing thru my veins. I entered the hospital December 18th, our wedding anniversary, and made two trips to X-ray where I laid on a diamond hard table I never want to see again. After nineteen days I came back to River Forest for seven days then the same thing over again and back to the hospital for another week. Finally back at River Forest the long tiresome road to feeling able to finish my story. Gretch promised to write about my last years after moving over here if I found it too difficult to continue. But as you see I am “up and at it” in too much detail as usual. The year 1980 proved to be a difficult one for the Dickerson- Stuckey combination. Gretch had a siege at the hospital in the

130 fall and only now in February 1981 feeling somewhat better. Dick’s wife Debbie had a hip replacement at one of ten hospitals in Kalamazoo and must walk with the aid of a crutch for some time. I have already written of my hospitalization. But one joyous event was the birth of Jan and Steven’s twin boys December 23, 1980. Twins Raymond and Charles are not identical so we can easily tell them apart. Alison, my first great-grandchild, now joined by her twin brothers makes me the proud possessor of three great-grand children. If the boys turn out to be as bright and intelligent as Alison what happiness that will bring to all of us. The twins have already brought so much happiness just by entering this world. Jan and Alison brought Charles out here for me to cuddle and admire and several days later Steven and Alison brought Raymond out for his share of loving attention. Such darling little boys and such a loving sister. Before I went to the hospital I had mentioned Mr. Laing’s illness which eventually caused his retirement several years before I retired. At one time Julia McCarthy principal of Crary School had asked Mr. Laing to let me come to Crary as auditorium teacher. If you will read the paper I wrote for class it explains everything. NOTE The paper “A Mistaken Impression? So Julia McCarthy had been our District Principal and at her promotion came to the Burt School, I had learned to admire her very much and when her office was moved to another newer building we missed her very much. Julia Mc had left word with some of my intimate friends that they were to be sure and tell her when Gertrude Dickerson

131 retired and the date of the retirement party, and so the last Friday in October 1958 I said my farewell at a dinner with every one from Burt School in attendance as well as the added pleasure of Julia McCarthy’s presence. Mr. Janke, our principal, had been at a principal’s meeting that Friday morning at Miss McCarthy’s new school. On his return to Burt he brought a lovely package to my room, laid it mn my desk, said, “From Miss McCarthy,” and left the room. I had barely recovered from my surprise when the door opened and there was Kenneth Janke again waiting to see me open the gift. It was the most beautiful handkerchief I have ever had with a gorgeous embroidered Huge G in one corner and smaller initials in the other corners. And well I knew the exclusive shop it came from. Really everyone was so kind. The night before the dinner all the men had taken me out for a bite to eat and a drink at a near by restaurant. Four of them took me back to school to pick up my car and now I can remember the name of only one and the remark a young man made as I kissed each one farewell. The young man said, “That’s the first time I’ve ever been kissed by a teacher.” We had had so many school parties at my home during the years that taking me out was a gracious gesture of farewell on the part of the men. The following weekend I drove over to Three Rivers telling Gretch and Stuart I would be back probably in a week. That week stretched out till the last of November. So many invitations for luncheons, etc. Everyone insisted I must stay a few days longer since I would, be a long time in Three Rivers. I, at last, had decided to sell the house the I hated parting with it an when prospective buyers said how they would

132 change this and that if they bought. I was not overly gracious, I fear. I was held up in my departure by two different people who seemingly could not give up not having the place for their own. Neither of them could meet the terms of the sale so I had to depart leaving Joe Tranchidn to see that all was cared for until spring. In the Spring our home was sold to friends of ours who realized only as they drove up the driveway that they had been there before. And so our dream house passed into other hands. In my many trips back to Detroit I never drove past our home. It held so many happy and sad memories for me. I couldn’t bring myself to see it. The first week of my retirement when I drove over to Three Rivers I had taken lists of everything in each room. As I went over the lists with Gretch I crossed out any item she did not want or could not use. Table linen, bed linen, quilts etc., on my return, were packed into dresser drawers and labeled as to the contents. Gretch remarked when things were finally delivered that it was like going to a store. My sister, Ida Mae, ever at her best in time of need, came with her son Phillip plus a hamper of good things to eat to help me get ready to move. The old fashioned rocker in which I had been rocked to sleep as a baby found its last home with Ida Mae. It had been Dick’s favorite chair on our sitting porch. I had reiterated my old statement that I did not intend to force Stuart to look at me three times every day whether he wanted too or not, hence the little kitchen, fully equipped set off from the living room by a screen. Charles, my youngest grandson, was six months old as I arrived to be a permanent member of the Stuckey household.

133 For me it was a very pleasant arrangement and I have always hoped it was the same for the others. And so eventually I landed in Three Rivers. Gretch and Stuart had built a new home and within that home created an apartment for me. A combined living room and bed room, a little kitchen and a most luxurious bath room in the color I wanted, pink. Seeing Charles now a grown up twenty two year old young man I wonder where the years have gone so swiftly since the three grown-up men were young boys. Slowly I began to make friends. Gretch had introduced me at a tea on one of my many visits before moving here so I had a speaking acquaintance with several people. I attended Trinity Episcopal Church and was cordially invited to attend meetings of the Guild, so called at that time, later to be called E.C.W Episcopal Church Women. In the spring of 1959 I attended a Guild meeting in a private home. I was whispering to Coryl O’Lell when I really should not have been. Suddenly I heard my name mentioned and looking up, saw hands raised and heard Jean Skehans announce the next president of the Guild, me! I put up every reason I could think of why I should not serve. I said every thing without being down right rude but to no avail. I remembered then our habit at school of passing any position off on the newest member of the staff. Now it had happened to me. I tried to carry on the work of the Guild to the best of my ability, rummage sales, bazaars, Quiet Hours at the Priory just outside Three Rivers, helping with all activities of the Church. Finally we progressed from meeting in private homes to meeting in the undercroft of Trinity Church with Father

134 Gearhardt attending most of our meetings. Slowly, I seemed to find a place for myself in Three Rivers and as I accepted more invitations for luncheons etc. it soon became my turn to entertain which, as I have remarked before, I would rather do than be entertained. I shall mention only twice when I entertained at a luncheon and dinner party. We will leave out the many other good times with nothing spectacular to mark the occasions. The day of the luncheon proved to be a stormy one though I got down to pick up Dorothy Hack who was to help me by mid-morming. Around eleven thirty tornado warnings were corning in. A surprise announcement that the children in the little school just up the road from us were to find shelter in the Stuckey basement. Looking out the kitchen window I had my answer to the message. We settled the children and their teacher and I thought that my luncheon party was over. But there is a happy ending. The skies cleared, the guests arrived, slightly late but no tornado could keep bridge players from their game. The dinner party has a slightly different tone. Trinity Episcopal had taken over the “theater in the round” near Colon. To help sales I had taken eight tickets, invited seven friends out to our house for dinner and later the theater. All went so well and we were having such a good time that we almost wished we did not have to go to the theater. But, go we did and as I was seating my guests I noticed Mur Weidrich near by. I had wanted her as one of my guests but couldn’t reach her. I stepped over to speak to her, not realizing that I was beside one of the runways to the stage and down I

135 went, my pocket book landing in Mur’s lap my pump later to be found, in Coryl O’Dells hand as she wept over it. I had to ask her to give it to me as I tried, with a great deal of help from kind people, to get up. Father Gearhardt took me to the doctor in Colon who determined my arm was broken, gave me a shot and Dr. Bill o’Dell together with Gretch was waiting for me at Three Rivers Hospital. Father Gearhardt drove me, and Dorothy Harvey drove my car and got my guests home. A sad ending to a party so gay in the beginning. However, I had many parties after that disaster. The years flew along; Charles no longer a baby Steven and Dick growing into young men. Gretch starting as a substitute teacher, hired at the High School. Stuart made Executive Director of the Chamber of Commerce, a position he graces admirably. As I write this Gretch has retired after teaching nineteen years with marked success and great popularity. I have been glad to be here to watch all this happening while things were changing in my life. Coming back from one of my frequent trips to Detroit, a letter awaited me, a long letter, from a woman I did not know. She wrote that I had been made Deanery Chairman of thirteen Parishes. Surprise is not the word to describe my feeling. Flabbergasted, if there is such a word, more nearly describes my state of mind. I called Father Gearhardt and asked what I should do? How did this woman get my name? There was a long silence and then a rather meek voice said “I suggested your name.” So there I was again, facing a situation with little knowledge of

136 how to or what to do. The former Deanery Chairman briefed me on my duties and I carried on from there. A monthly meeting in Grand Rapids made me acquainted with other women in the same position. We reported on all activities carried on in our Parish. After one report of a meeting and luncheon our Deanery had in Niles, I gave a brief report. As I finished one of the women rose and said “What I would like to know is how Mrs. Dickerson managed to get every priest but one in the Deanery at the luncheon?” As usual I was embarrassed and felt that I must have done something wrong but couldn’t think what it night have been. Later on I had my answer when Father Houle, the priest at Saugatus, talking to me remarked that it was the little personal notes each priest received that made such a difference from a mimeographed sheet. I refused a second term as Deanery Chairman. I had broken my arm and found myself literally swamped with too many duties, worse than teaching. So I confined my church activities to Three Rivers Trinity Parish and was kept busy. Harriet, my sister-in-law and I had one more trip together when we visited June and her husband in Chattanooga. Too much driving made it almost impossible for me to get back to Three Rivers and Stuart drove Harriet to Kalamazoo where she could get a bus to Bay City where she now lived after her retirement. It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to walk. I had gone from one cane to two canes and finally a walker. I still drove my car, using the walker to get out to the car. Balancing

137 on one leg I could throw walker in the back seat and I was off! This went on until I was seventy-five when I was hospitalized with a serious case of pneumonia. Serious enough so the Episcopal Priest, Father Howard, gave me last rites. But you see I am eighty-eight years old and Dr. Bill O’Dell told me at my last trip to hospital that I had fooled them several times. Can’t keep that up forever. Coryl O’Dell, the doctor’s mother, was in the hospital across the hall from me. Ethel Hughes, a practical nurse was taking care of Coryl at home so she came every day to see Coryl and would come in to see me frequently. Dr. Jack O’ell told Gretch that as I recovered I would need a nurse and could get no one better than Ethel Hughes. No one thought Coryl could live but it was a year later that Coryl passed away and my Grandson Steven had taken me down to see her where we enjoyed talking about the good times we had enjoyed together. I had a nurse Bessie Dixon until Ethel was free to join our family. So for nearly six years I lived at home with Ethel to care for me. Finally Ethel asked for a months vacation since she was almost as bad as I was. Then came the decision we had been thinking about - a move to a Nursing Home. I had made up my mind that no one was to feel troubled about this nor did I intend to weep and wail over unkind fate catching up with me. It was my own decision to go to Fairview where I stayed uncomfortably for two years. I was not getting along at all well

138 and one afternoon the R.N. came in and asked me if I expected my daughter in that evening. I said that she never came in the evening. Shortly after that I was told to get ready to go to the Hospital. Gretch explained to me when I saw her that three different nurses had called her, each saying I was not getting the proper care. Gretch immediately called Dr. Bill O’Dell who was leaving for Guam the next day. He came to the hospital and met me and talked to Dr. Don Schimnoski who cared for me and that was my farewell to Fairview and Dr. Frank Olney for whom I have little admiration. I had asked to go to Fairview and I must give Mr. Adams and the two Aids in Therapy my sincerest thanks for getting me on my feet and walking again. Ethel had grown so dictatorial and would not let me try to walk unless Gretch was there to help. I think I had, in a way, given up and I had not been out of bed for eight months. So much credit is due to Therapists at Fairview. So, now, the wheel of chance turns and I arrived at River Forest Nursing Home in Three Rivers January 4, 1977, where I should have come in the first place. I had visited here when Jenn Skehans was here. At that time no television was allowed, but things have changed and I have my own television in my room. The afternoon of my arrival, I remember several persons greeting me. One Menonite Aide, all smiles, greeted me by saying, “Welcome to River Forest.” Donna Savage, the Director of DNurses, flattered me by not believing I was eighty three, in a few weeks to be eighty four. Donna Savage is above average, I think, in her ability and

139 desire to instill in all who come in contact with her the sympathy and kindness shown by nurses and aids, with few exceptions. If one cannot be at home I can think of no better place to be than River Forest. The place is immaculate, beautifully and tastefully furnished and the least like an institution ever. It seems impossible that the high standard can keep up day after day, but it does. Mr. James Norton is the excellent Administrator and his charming wife Julia is an L.P.N. here and both are very well liked. Faye Taylor, the liaison person, is a charming individual well suited to her position. Added to that is her high style way of appearing a walking advertisement for Neiman Marcus. Debbie Windon is so talented I’m sure I shall leave out some. She plays the piano and flute. Is artistic to her finger tips. She is now in charge of the kitchen and things have changed under her supervision. Her monthly birthday cakes are the best I nave ever seen. Debbie is extremely modest and does not accept praise well but I keep on complimenting her anyway. Debbie Blough works as head of Crafts. While I do nothing along that line because of my impaired vision I appreciate her efforts. Anything is a reason for entertainment. Valentine Day, Chinese New Year, St. Patrick’s Day, etc. Every month a birthday party and once a month an ice cream party ably assisted by Terry Hammond, the Therapist who daily brings a hot pack to ease the pain of arthritis. I must not forget Elaine, Donna’s Assistant doing the clerical work. I can’t remember her last name for every one calls everyone else by his or her first name, a habit I deplore since I

140 was trained to seldom use a first name. Be that as it may, Elaine is a charming person, with a ready smile and an understanding heart. I have written at great length about these people who make up the staff for I want them to live in your mind as you read this. I cannot express it too strongly that I do not feel put upon ending my days in a Nursing home. I am surrounded in most cases by kind and willing people who go “All out” to be helpful in everyway. I have a kind and loving family, whose first words upon hearing my voice over the phone or seeing me are “Can we get you anything?” or, “Do you need anything?” I am spending my last days in comfort, free from most worries except pain. Could any one ask for more!? Thus endeth my “Life Story.”

141 EPILOGUE In writing my life story I have probably made many mistakes. Awkward sentence structure, words spelled incorrectly, etc. I have had no time to make corrections and rewrite, else I would not have completed this story. Started when I was eighty-six. I have now just passed my eighty eighth-birthday. I have lived to see a President of the U.S.A., President Nixon, dishonored and forced to resign the highest office in the land. Gerald Ford, his successor, defeated for a second term mainly because he pardoned Richard Nixon. Poor Jimmy Carter told, in no uncertain terms by the election returns, that he had been an inept President. Now, in 1981, we are looking forward to the many changes Ronald Reagan hopes to make. At least he has restored some semblance of dignity to the office which had been sadly lacking in the Carter regime, President Reagan, true to a campaign promise has offered the name of Sandra O’Connor to be the first woman to be appointed to the Supreme Court. She will be confirmed so the article in Time Magazine states, “The Brethren’s First Sister.” Writing this “Life Story” has brought into clear how much focus I owe to Mother, Father and my sisters, and brothers, not only for financial help but for so many kindnesses and encouragement. They were there to rely upon like a solid support when help was needed. An illustration to make clear what I mean. When Gretch was about eight years old we realized she must have her tonsils and adenoids removed. At the cottage in Fenton one weekend, we came upon Leo Garvey, Ida Mae’s

142 first husband, and Jim Butcher, Addie’s husband, having a heated argument as to which one was to pay for the child’s operation. Finally Leo Garvey insisted it was rightfully his privilege, for as he announced, “I discovered them.” Really, neither one paid, for we quietly took Gretch to Grace Hospital in Detroit and paid the bill ourselves. But the feeling of having good, solid, family backing was a comfort. I feel very close to Philip Garvey and Jane Chase, my sister Ida Mae’s son and daughter, now in their late sixties. I have visited in Ida Mae’s home frequently and we went on trips North many times in late summer or early fall when the trees were a riot of color. We watched the bridge to the Upper Peninsula being built from the very beginning to completion and I have driven over it six times. Sometimes a very scary trip! Finally ending this Epilogue I want any who read this to know how happy and proud her father and I have always felt about our daughter, Gertrude Raye. She has never disappointed us and we gave her all the advantages our means allowed. She earned a scholarship her first year at Gulfport-By-The-Sea but since Mississippi was so far away her remaining college years were spent at Hillsdale, mentioned before in this story. My story would not be complete without giving my thanks to my son-in-law Stuart Stuckey, who has always been kind and considerate to a mother-in-law who may have been rather trying at times. Particularly the ten different times I have been in the Three Rivers Hospital. And all the errands he has had to run. Yet never a complaint! I think the fact that Gretch and Stuart provided me a special place in their new and last home, when it was built, speaks

143 volumes about their consideration of me. So here are my heartfelt thanks to Gretch and Stuart. My abiding love goes to my three grandsons, Steven, Dick and Charles, and to my grandson’s wives Jan and Debbie, two much loved additions to the family circle. And now comes the fourth generation bright, intelligent, sparkling Alison my first great grand child, Steve and Jan’s daughter. And last Dec. 23, 1980, the adorable twins Charles and Raymond came to add two brothers to Alison, so now I have three great-grandchildren to love, hope and pray for in this unsettled world. So here is my philosophy which I have tried to live by. God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The Courage to change those things I can and the Wisdom to know the difference.

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