We were very happy and contented living in our
comfortable little apartment in Hillcrest, a suburb
 of San Diego.  I was still enjoying my job working 
for Marie Birch at her business, The Worldwide 
Employment Agency, in San Diego.  George had 
settled comfortably into his routine and duties at 
The Naval Training Center, also in San Diego.
Our life  was an exciting mix of work and pleasure.
After we settled into our apartment and I found a 
job, Delores and I had been eagerly planning her
trip to San Diego to spend some time with us.  She
had graduated from high school and had chosen to 
continue her studies at the University of Nevada in 
Reno.  We had planned her trip to fit into her busy 
schedule.    
The long anticipated day finally arrived and I couldn't
 contain my joy. The first of June, 1952, we took the 
bus to the railroad depot in San Diego.  I was literally
jumping with excitement as Delores stepped from
the train.  She was so happy she actually skipped over
to where we were waiting for her.
She loved our apartment.  We got her settled in.  
She and I would be sharing the bed that pulled out
from the wall and George would sleep on the couch.
 It was a snug fit, but it would work just fine.
Almost immediately upon her arrival, she was welcomed
to Southern California with a bang.  On one of her first 
nights, we were awakened in he middle of the night to
the sound of pots and pans clattering, our bed shaking,
and drawers opening while the building shook and swayed.
(We were on the third floor).  When a lamp was thrown 
from the end table by George's head, Delores shot out
of bed scared to death and yelling, "What is happening?"  
George and I had experienced a number of quakes living 
in Los Angeles and San Diego counties, but it was a new
and terrifying experience for Delores. As she was 
standing there in shock, scared out of her wits, George
calmly raised his head from his pillow and drawled,  "oh, 
it's just a little ole earthquake go back to sleep", at which
point he laid his head back on his pillow and slept blissfully
on while the building continued to shake and sway.  It took
Delores several  nights before she could go calmly to bed.   
We settled into a routine and planned our activities around
 it.  Delores would do some sightseeing and exploring 
during the day while we were at work.  She learned to ride 
the bus to destinations of her choice.  She enjoyed walking
around Hillcrest and exploring the neighborhood near
our apartment.  
Our weekends were saved for day trips to the beach, zoo, 
the Amusement Park at Mission Beach, and the Scripps 
Aquarium.  We couldn't wait to introduce her to the 
wonders of Balboa Park.  She couldn't believe the  
beautiful sprawling park was just a two block walk from
our apartment.  She was enthralled with all it had to offer;
a Botanical Garden, museums,  restaurants, the famous
water lily pond filled with beautiful Koi fish, and an
authentic International Village featuring cultures from 
many countries.  On weekends, there were face painters, 
artists, strolling musical groups and mimes scattered
 throughout the plaza and surrounding areas.  
Delores loved walking through the park and over the 
Laurel Street Bridge to the beautiful San Diego Zoo.
And like me, she fell in love with the zoo and all of
the exotic animals who called it their home.  We went 
often and I had fun introducing her to all of my animal
friends.  Like the children we were at heart, we rode the
wonderful Carousel near the zoo's entrance.
She loved listening to the melodious chimes of the  
majestic Carillon Clock in the California Tower.  It had
been chiming every quarter hour in Balboa Park since 
Christmas Day in 1946.  We could hear the chimes night
and day from our apartment.  I loved waking up to them
and never tired of it.      
Just like George and I, Balboa Park became her favorite 
place to spend time.  On our first visit to the park, George
and I had found a perfect spot we claimed as our own.
It had a tree we loved and we spent hours sitting under it
enjoying a picnic lunch, reading, and playing games.  If 
we went to the park and someone was under "our tree", 
we were instantly jealous and a bit angry.  Delores fell 
into our routine and loved the park as much as we did.
Often on Saturday, or Sunday afternoon, Delores and I  
would fix a picnic and the three of us would head for our
spot at the park.  After eating, we would spend hours
playing and enjoying each other's company.  Sometimes
we were silly and laughed as we clowned around.  
he first time Delores and I climbed our tree and acted
like monkeys, throwing our shoes down at George and 
making monkey sounds, he watched us in disbelief and
perhaps a bit of embarrassment.  How we loved those 
special times.  Several evenings, after George and I 
got home from work, we walked through the park to
the Plaza and the Outdoor Amphitheatre and Organ 
Pavilion to listen to an organ concert.   What fun we 
were having sharing it all with Delores.  There was 
another park we loved and couldn't wait to show
Delores.  Persidio Park is one of the highest points
in San Diego.  It  is nestled among softly rolling hills
and is lush and green.  It had much less foot traffic 
than Balboa Park and so was quieter and more tranquil.
One memorable day we took Delores to visit the 
San Diego Mormon Battalion Historic Site and to Old 
Town San Diego State Historic Park.  From there, at 
the end of a perfect day, we went to Persidio Park to
 sit and watch a beautiful Sunset.  
It was so much fun to introduce Delores to authentic 
Mexican and Italian food at some of our favorite 
restaurants.  She quickly fell in love with pizza and 
tacos.
My boss, Marie, was so kind to me while Delores was 
here.  She often would tell me when I arrived at work, 
that I could leave at noon.  I would call Delores and 
she would meet me there with our towels and swimsuits
and we would go to one of the beaches.  She loved the 
ocean and the beaches.  I think we were able to take her
 to all of the beaches while she was here; Ocean, Pacific, 
Mission, and La Jolla, with her favorite being a ride on 
the ferry to Coronado State Beach.  She turned into a 
regular high desert Beach Bum, and as I was already 
one, I loved it..
She loved visiting The Naval Training Center.  We took
her there to a movie and see where George worked.  We
also took her to attend church at the LDS Branch on base.
Being a beautiful blond, she was a hit with the sailors 
who were homesick for their sisters and girlfriends.  She 
could have had dates with many swooning sailors but her
heart belonged to her high school sweetheart, and soon 
to be husband, Pete Horlacher.
On other Sundays, we attended church meetings at our
assigned branch in Hillcrest.  It was held in an old historic
building which also housed the Church Distribution Center.
It was a small branch with no more than 150 members.  
Most of them were older retired people and senior 
missionary couples who worked at the Distribution 
Center and the Church Welfare Offices.  George and
I were one of just several young couples.  There were 
no teenagers or small children members.  George and
I were never given a calling. We felt isolated and
lonely.  I never felt it was an ideal situation for a new 
convert to the church. George was actually happier
and more comfortable attending church on base.
Delores found the differences interesting and 
enjoyed both of them.  
Delores's vacation was nearing it's end.  It had been a month
of good times, love, and laughter.  George and Delores were 
kindred spirits.  They fed off each other.  This little sister 
of mine who seemed to be so quiet and reserved and always
a lady, was actually funny, spontaneous and quite a madcap
character when she chose to be.  George had a great sense 
of humor and fancied himself to be quite the comedian.  In
reality he was, but I didn't always let on that I thought so 
because it just added fuel to his fire.  On the other hand.
Delores knew how to keep him going and became the
perfect foil for his act,  Now, I was not a stick in the mud
and enjoyed a good time as much as they did, but I could 
not always keep up with them, nor did I want to.  Often, 
when I was ready to call it a day, they were just getting 
started.
I couldn't send Delores home without relating this bit of 
trivia from her visit  It is a perfect example of her and 
George's idea of adventure.  One evening Delores
disappeared into the bathroom for quite some time.  When
she came out, she was dressed like a "floozy" in an outfit 
made entirely of scarves with a feather boa around her neck.
I have no idea where she got it.  I suppose this little 
escapade had been planned in advance and she found it on
one of her shopping trips.  She was painted up like 
"a woman of the evening", chomping a big wad of gum 
and twirling another scarf.  She looked at us with a 
smile and flounced out the door and down to the ground
floor to our landlord's apartment.  She knocked on the 
door and when they answered, still chomping her gum
and twirling the scarf, she demanded they make an
apartment available to her.  She coyly batted her 
ridiculously long false eyelashes (another great find 
on a shopping spree), and sweetly said that "it would be 
nice if she could have one by that cute sexy sailor boy,
"Georgie Wimsatt".  Our landlady and her husband, 
were a very strict, straight laced, puritan type of couple, 
over 60. They were shocked and instructed her to
leave the building immediately and not to return.
When she came back, she was laughing uproariously.
I was astounded when she told us what she had 
done, but George thought it was hilarious and gave her
"high fives".
Maybe they were having too much fun, I don't know, and 
when they decided to make cinnamon rolls at 8:00 at night,
I was not a happy camper.  I could not talk them out of it.
I was exhausted and uptight and went to bed.  Of course,
the bed was almost in the kitchen and boy were they having 
fun!  I couldn't go to sleep with all of their merriment, but
I pretended I was.  The kitchen was tiny and while 
pretending to be asleep, I was aware they were placing
cinnamon roles to rise right by the bed.  It takes awhile for 
that to happen and so the merriment continued into the 
wee hours of the morning.  They made me a pie tin sized 
cinnamon roll, frosted to perfection.  They woke me
up from my "pretended" deep sleep and presented it to me
with a flourish.  I was not over being a bit upset and wasn't 
going to eat it, but they seemed so disappointed that I took a
bite exclaiming at how delicious it was.  I was hoping
that would satisfy them and they would leave me alone, 
but that one bite convinced me that they had mixed 
hot red pepper with the cinnamon and sugar.   What a
pair of crushed pranksters they were when I ate the whole
thing, without making a grimace or pulling a face, and 
settled back into bed.  I thought I had put one over on 
them, but then to my chagrin, and unbeknownst to them 
until days later, I was sick for the rest of the night.  
Their joke had fallen flat and mine had backfired.  I
did get into the spirit of it later and we all had a good 
laugh.  I also got to enjoy an undoctored cinnamon 
roll and it was delicious. 
Before Delores left, I had to do damage control with our 
landlords.  They had always been kind to George and I
and sincerely liked us.  I couldn't let their image of 
George be spoiled.  Believe it or not, after being shocked 
into silence, I did get a very subdued chuckle from them.
I am pretty sure they thought it was funny but didn't want
to ruin their image by outright laughing.   
The few times we ran into them before Delores left, I caught 
them looking at her with an expression of awe on their faces.
They probably, in their wildest imaginations, could never
picture a person doing something like that.
And so ended Delores's visit.  It had been wonderful and 
we were all sad when she boarded the train to go home, 
but she promised to come back again.  As the mighty old
engine built up steam and blew it's mournful whistle, I shed
a tear or two knowing that the next time I saw her, she would
be a bride.  But I was so happy for the amazing experiences 
we had shared.  
In the following post are pictures from Delores's visit.
Notice that the dresses we wore to church are of a similar 
style and are exactly the same length.  We were wearing 
our hair in the same style and with our high heels, we
could have passed for twins.   It is true what people always
said, that we were very much alike in looks and style.  
We had chosen those dresses at a different time in different
states.  One difference is that Delores's hair had stayed much 
blonder than mine.
The writing on the pictures taken in Balboa Park, is 
Delores's.  I loved her captions and left them on for the
post.
To Be Continued. . . . .
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Such a fun post! I was laughing picturing Aunt Delores dressed in scarves and giving her best floozy immetation. I didn't know she had that in her. The cinnamon roll story was hilarious! I can picture Mom eating tat without batting an eye! I simply adored the pictures for this post. I have seen pictures of your "tree" with Dad hanging like a monkey! Your dresses were to die for! Hot Mamas!
Post a Comment