San Diego, Here We Come. . . .#13. . . .

There was a lot we were enjoying about our time living in Westminster.
I liked my job.  It was was nice living by Jack and Lee.  It was fun
watching Lloyd and Jackie growing up.  Lee and I were good friends
and her family had accepted us as part of thier family, which made us
feel good.  George enjoyed working for Jack on the Saturdays he was
available. It gave us a little extra money to save toward our move to
San Diego, and he was appreciative of the opportunity to learn the
family trade.

The other side of the story was a little discouraging.  Our name had
not yet come up for any of the navy housing in San Diego.  The long
commute was becoming more difficult for George.  He was often very
tired, as if he was not getting any good rest and relax time.  On his duty
weekends, it would be two long weeks before we were together.  We
were beginning to really hate it.   Our first Thanksgiving and Christmas
as husband and wife, he had duty.  I was disappointed that we would
not be able to spend Christmas in Panaca.  He kept encouraging me
to go home without him but I could not consider going home and
leaving him in San Diego alone.  I spent Christmas with Jack and Lee
and George and I celebrated our fFirst Christmas with a telephone call
Now all I could think about was to be settled in San Diego before the
holidays came again.

While we were planning our wedding, Marsha and Ann were already
planning to visit us in San Diego.  They were so excited about it and I
was too.  I think they had hoped to come the very next summer, but
we would be living in Westminster while we were waiting for housing
in San Diego and we had no idea how long it would take to make the
move.  We had to tell them to plan their trip for the summer of 1953.
They were unhappy and so was I.  We were able to molify them a
little by promising them that this would be the perfect time for them to
come.  We assured them that by waiting, they would have more time
to plan and save money.  We also told them that by then I should be
settled into a routine with a job and regular hours, which would reassure
 Edna.

Delores and I had been corresponding regularly.  My letters were
filled with all things "California".  I had gone on and on to her about
how much I loved it.  Of course, I raved about the ocean and the
beautiful beaches.  She wanted to come and visit us.  I had been
suffering some homesickness and really missed her.  I was so ready
for her to visit us.  She was going to school at the University of
Nevada in Reno.  She was not going to take any summer classes and
so we planned on her coming to visit us as soon as her school was out
in 1952.  Unlike with Marsha and Ann's visit, she could come as soon
as her time allowed without a lot of planning time needed.

With all of that in mind, after one long and lonely two week period, we
decided to not wait any longer for Navy Public Quarters but try to
find an apartment as close to the training center as we could.  George
started watching ads and looking at apartments in the late afternoon
and evenings.  He was not having any luck.  Lee and I drove to San
Diego twice and our luck was no better.  We finally decided that
George would just keep looking whenever he could and we would
just have to be patient.  That was very hard for me.  When have I ever
been patient?

Fortunately, my patience was not too strongly tested.  Things began to
move fast.  George called in January of 1952 and said he had found an
apartment he thought I would like.  It was in the Hillcrest area of San
Diego.  It was a studio apartment on the third floor of an attractive
building on the northesast corner of 4th and Olive St.  Our address
would be 431 Olive St.  Our Apartment was No 31.

We were excited to get a corner unit overlooking 4th and Olive.  When
you entered, you looked into a grest room with a high ceiling and three
large window on the far wall.  If you looked to the left wall, there was
another large window.  These windows gave us a beautiful view of the
downtown area of San Diego, reaching to the harbor.  On the same wall
to the left of the entrance there was a closet.  On that same wall, next to
the closet, there was an ornately carved false fireplace mantel.  Below
the mantel was white paneling which attractively concealed a large
drawer.  The drawer was carved in a unique pattern that was actually
hand grips which you grasped to pull out a double bed.  It was so
cleverly done, you would never know it concealed a bed..  The wall
extended another three feet into a small hall which turned left into the
kitchen.  The kitchen was small but had all of the necessary features;
cupboards, range with oven, refrigerator, counter top with sink and a
table with four chairs.  Also, from the hall, you took three steps up to
the bathroom, which was situated over the mantel and bed.  The great
room was carpeted and furnished with a sofa, plush chair and ottoman,
and an end table with a lamp.  White wainscoting and floorboards gave
the room a beautiful, finished look.

It was a very nice apartment and we loved it.  We knew, however, that
it would not be large enough when Marsha and Ann came.  We put our
name on the waiting list for one of the larger apartments, which had a
small bedroom in addition to the pull out bed.

It was a lovely neighborhood and best of all, it was an easy walk to
beautiful Balboa Park.  We walked a block to 5th Aveune, then another
block to Laurel Street and the park.  A lovely and fun walk across the
historic Cabrillo Bridge (Laurel Street Bridge) brought us into the El
Prado area of the park.  A walk along the historic El Prado Pedestrian
Walkway opened  up a world of wonderment.  We found so many
exciting things to do and see.  The Hospitality House included the park's
Visitors Center.  There were museums, a Botanical Garden, lily ponds,
fountains, the Old Globe Theater, the Spreckels Organ Pavillion, the Spanish
Village Art Center, and much more, all part of San Diego's history.  I
fell in love immediately with the California Tower which housed a huge
clock with canilon, whose chimes were heard across the park every
quarter hour.  It was magical.   

We found we could continue walking along the path until we reached
the famous Carousel and the zoo's entrance.

With no car and little money, George's perks as a member of the Armed
Forces gave us free admission to the museums and we paid just .25 cents
to get into the zoo.  We had the perfect entertainhment to offer family
and friends when they visited us.  We were happy and contented.

More about that later. . . .

Love Is In The Air. . . .We Move. . . .#12

Our life had settled into a routine, and for the most part, it was
good. I enjoyed my job and it gave me a focus so I didn't have
time to think during the day about how much I missed George
and how lonely I often was. I had never been a person who was
comfortable being alone at night and that made it hard. Lee
realized this and often came and picked me up to eat dinner with
them. On nice days we would swim in their pool and Lee and I
often went shopping. I appreciated not being alone for the hours
after getting home from work until bedtime.

On George's duty weekends, I caught up on my laundry, ironing,
and other household chores. I also used that time to write to
family and friends. On the weekends he was home, he usually
worked for Jack on Saturday, but we had Friday evening and
Sunday for us.

We were eagerly awaiting the day our name would come up for
an apartment in Public Quarters so we could be together in San
Diego. I could tell it was getting harder each weekend for George
to make the commute. He was often tired and he worried about
not waking up at 3:00 Monday morning in order to be ready when
his ride came for him. This became apparent when I would often
wake up within an hour or two of when we went to bed and find
him in the bathroom shaving, in the kitchen polishing his shoes,
or sitting in a chair in his uniform with his duffel bag in his lap.
And, all of this while sound asleep. We began to worry that he
would leave the house asleep some night and wander away.

That paled in significance to a problem I was having. I mentioned
earlier that our apartment, though nice and clean, was not in the
best neighborhood. I had become aware I was being watched by
a group of young men who loitered in the apartment complex. I
didn't know if any of them were residents. This was a matter of
concern to George and may have been one reason he was showing
tendencies of not being able to sleep and sleepwalking. It became
worse when I realized one, or several of them, would appear as I
was leaving work and furtively follow me home. They seemed to
be familiar with George's schedule and know when I was alone.
Some of it may have been paranoia due to my fright, but I knew
there were nights when someone was prowling around outside.

George continued to check on our status for Public Quarters and
it seemed our name was not getting any closer to the top of the
list. He was becoming more reluctant to leave each time he came
home. We began loo9king for another apartment. We needed to
remain close to Jack and Lee and my work. We found a nice
apartment with an upcoming vacancy that was exactly what we
needed. It was even closer to Jack and Lee and near a bus stop
where I could catch a bus to work. It would be available in a
week. Fortunately, George would be home that weekend.

It was a small complex with just four duplex units. They were
well maintained with lovely landscaping, including large shade
trees. The apartment was charming. It was a studio like our
former one, with a bed that pulled out of the wall. The kitchen
and bathroom were larger, and there was a nice linen closet
which our other one didn't have. Everything was done in a
beautiful knotty pine paneling which gave it a cozy, rustic look.
It was very comfortable and we loved it.

We were delighted when we found that the couple who would
be sharing the duplex with us, were also a navy couple our age.
Mike was stationed in Long Beach. He and George often had the
same duty weekends which meant that Louise and I would not
be alone as often. We became good friends and enjoyed doing
things together. We enjoyed many of the same things. She
worked in a restaurant and my hours were better than hers, but
it still worked great for us.

We were happier, our life was easier, and without the anxiety
George had experienced worrying about my safety, he was
sleeping better and his sleepwalking episodes were tapering off.
Our routine became comfortable and I really felt like I was be-
coming a real wife and homemaker.

It was a short time after this that I discovered, and in a most
unpleasant way, that being a homemaker is not always easy. We
were assigned a day of the week to do our laundry. On that day
the washer, cloth lines and clothespins were for our use only. If
we missed our day, there was no making it up, we just had to wait
until the next week. Since I worked, I had a Saturday wash day.
This was perfect because when George was home, he worked
for Jack on that day.

Doing laundry was a chore I enjoyed. The laundry room was nice
and there was never a shortage of hot water. I loved the smell of
the hot water and the laundry detergent. This was in the days of
the wringer washing machines and my favorite part was running
the clothes through the wringer.

George had a duty weekend and I was very sick. I had been sick at
work on Friday, didn't sleep all Friday night, and was even sicker
Saturday morning. I knew I had to do our laundry as George
would need the clothes he had brought home to be washed and I
had thrown up all over the bed during the night. And so, I forced
myself out of bed and began to get the soiled things together.

The head and foot boards of the bed were made out of steel pipes. As
you pushed the bed into the wall, the foot board legs collapsed and
folded into two parts. I removed the soiled sheets and mattress pad
and decided rather than leave an unmade made in the middle of the
room, I would put it away until I could remake it. I was feeling very
faint, and as I was struggling to push it into the wall, it began to
collapse and I began to throw up. I dropped the bed and then tried
to catch it. I didn't quite make it and as the two pieces of the legs
snapped back together, three fingers on my right hand were caught
Two of them were cut to the bone. Yes, I could could literally see
the bone. As if I had not been sick enough already, now there was
throw up all over the floor and footboard and I was gushing blood
like a burst pipe. Louise was at work and Lee was not home, I was
alone. Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my hand tightly with
a dish towel and attempted to clean up the mess as best I could under
the circumstances. I then gathered up the laundry and detergent and
staggered to the laundry room.

Leaning against the washer, I got the first load of clothes rinsed and
ready to go through the winger. I was in extreme pain and having to
do everything with my left hand. As I began to feed the clothes
through the wringer, I automatically reached with my right hand.
Somehow, probably because it was bound and hurting so much, I
couldn't move it quick enough and my hand began to be pulled
through the wringer. I have never had anything hurt that bad. I
couldn't focus to release the wringer and so as I was watching my
poor hand being pulled through, I reached over and hit reverse. I
just stood there like a statue and watched in horror as my mangled
hand was pulled back through toward me and still I couldn't think
to hit the release button.

That was the longest laundry day I had ever experienced. By the
time I was finished, I was fighting to stay on my feet. Just at that
time, Lee came by. She had been n to the Farmers Market with her
sisters and was bringing me some fresh fruit and vegetables. When
she saw my hand, which by now was black and blue in addition to
the cuts and exposed bone, she was horrified. She rushed me to
the hospital emergency room where I was given a pint of blood,
antibiotics, and sewn up. I don't remember how many stitches,
but it was a lot.

Now, you might be wondering why I didn't call a taxi to take me to
the emergency room? Honestly, I didn't even think about it. I just
knew I had to get my laundry done on my assigned day. Lee made
the bed up fresh when we got home, and boy was I ready to lay down.

I didn't go to work for several days. My boss was very understanding
about little "Suzy Homemaker" making such a mess of things. And,
when the weekend came, was I ever glad to see George and get some
well deserved, to my way of thinking anyway, sympathy.

To Be Continued. . . .

Love Is In The Air, Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .I'm A Working Girl. . . .#11

I was sad when George left to return to San Diego after our first
weekend together in our new home. I was happy, though, to know
that I would be very busy and the week until he came home again
would pass quickly. Even though he and I had done much to get
settled in and make our little apartment warm and cozy with
pictures, decorations, and other personal items, there was still
much I could do to make it our own.

I had a quilt Mother had made us and one from families in the
Panaca Ward. Both of them could be used as bedspreads and
would be beautiful. Lee and I had fun shopping for curtains and
some decorative throw pillows that would match the quilts. We
also found curtains for the living room and kitchen and a bright,
colorful shower curtain for the bathroom. I wanted to surprise
George when he came home.

I walked the neighborhood to get familiar with it. I checked out
the little combination grocery and hardware store near us and
found a post office within walking distance from our apartment.
I was a little disturbed to see that even though our apartment was
nice and the complex was well kept, the neighborhood seemed a
little rough. There was a large population of Hispanic and Oriental
people in the area and there were stories of gang activity between
them and rival Caucasian youth. When I walked alone, I was often
nervous as I observed them loitering around. I determined not
to let this bother me as I had met some nice people in our complex,
and Jack and Lee were near.

Each morning, I purchased several newspapers so I could search
for job opportunities. I found very few. With the Korean war
going on and so many military families in the area, there were
more people searching for work than jobs were available. I was
limited with no car, to only be able to look for available positions
within a radius that I could walk or use the public bus system.

It was very discouraging. If possible, I wanted to find a job that
would use my secretarial skills, and for one so young, my resume
was good. However, there were older, more experienced women
wanting the positions that were available. I had applied at two
businesses where I was told I would be placed on a waiting list to
be called when something became available.

In the meantime, we enjoyed our weekends together. George
worked for Jack installing carpet on many of the Saturdays. This
gave us a little extra money which helped us do some of the things
we wanted, and needed, to do. Even though he was working, we
still seemed to find time to explore our surroundings. We rode a
bus to the beach. We found a lovely park nearby where we could
stroll and eat a picnic lunch. We were invited to Sunday dinner
at Jack and Lee's and got to know Lee's family, the Shinpaughs.
They accepted us as part of the family and Mom and Dad
Shinpaugh became like foster mom and dad to us. They were
sweet, kind people. Dad Shinpaugh and Lee's brother Coy,
worked for Jack and George soon became good friends with them.

Sunday dinners were a family tradition with the Shinpaugh family
and most Sundays would find us eating dinner at Jack and Lee's, Coy
and Barbara's, or one of Lee's sister's homes. Her sisters, Elsie Mae,
Vonna, and Mary, all lived nearby. Mary and her husband Bob,
were mine and George's age.

George and I decided that I would have to start looking for a job
at one of the fast food restaurants near us. We were not happy
about this, but I needed a job. There was also a cafeteria near one
of the housing complexes and business malls that catered to the
civilian government population that were associated with the
military. So, with that in mind, I applied for the necessary food
handling card from the Health Department and had the necessary
tests for tuberculosis and hepatitis and was immunized for
hepatitis.

I was hired at the cafeteria but several days before I was to start
work, I was called by one of the businesses who had placed me
on a call back list. The business was Cal-Gems, Inc. They were a
clothing factory that made women's clothing. They were located
on Westminster Blvd, which was a straight shot easy bus ride for
me. When I went for another interview, they told me there were
two openings which would be available upon deployment of the
women's service husbands. They could not tell me exactly when
this would take place but said they had liked my resume and the
personal information I had provided them. They asked me if I
would be willing to take a job on the production lines in the
factory until one of these openings became available.

I was overwhelmed at the prospect of this. The production floors
in the factory seemed to me to be hubs of noise, confusion, and
"over the top" activity. I would be assigned a locker and issued
a kit containing a pair of scissors, pins, needles, gloves, ruler,
tape measure, marking tape and pencils. I would start at the
tables where the patterns were placed on the materials, pinned,
and cut. At this time, I was told that my "scissors" were my
number one priority. I would only be issued one pair. If I
damaged or lost, them, I was out of a job. Just like that, no
excuses, no arguments, lost or damaged scissors, no job!

It was a frightening position for me. Most of the workers on
the factory floor were Hispanic or Oriental. They had been
doing this work for long periods of time. It was hard for me to
wrap my mind around the concept that I was a factory worker,
these women were good at their job. They were self confident,
fast, and efficient. For the most part, they were kind, friendly,
and helpful. Few of us were Caucasian. I think many of them
felt sorry for me. I did not speak either language and knew
just a few high school Spanish words and phrases. They talked
so fast in their native languages that my head spun. I was sure I
could not do this, but I wanted that secretarial job when it
became available.

It was not long before they advanced me from the cutting
tables to the sewing machine. Now, this was scary, indeed!
The never ending noise from the busy sewing machines
never let up. It was an assembly line scene. I started doing
straight seams. That, I could handle. It was challenging,
however. We had a quota and were expected to complete our
required number of pieces each hour. It became more difficult
as I advanced. Each was a challenge for me; facings, darts, and
plackets. It was piece work and we were paid accordingly. If
we made a mistake, it didn't count as a completed piece. At the
end of each pay period, we received a detailed sheet which
showed completed pieces, minus our messed up ones.

I was scared to death when I realized that I would soon be
advanced to my worst nightmare; pockets, pleats, and zippers.
I had realized that even though I was a temporary floor worker,
being held in reserve by general management, the supervisors
on the floor would not be cutting me any slack. Was I a
nervous wreck? You bet! I lived in anticipation of hearing the
closing bell ring each afternoon. When it rang, we had twenty
minutes to finish the piece we were on, remove the thread and
bobbin from the machine, brush the lint from it, give it a
squirt of oil, and tidy up our area. And then, the sweetest music
that was heaven to my ears, the ding ding ding of workers
punching out.

I prayed fervently each night that a job opening would happen
before I had to face the "Grim Zipper", and it did! I was called
into the main office and told that an opening was available and
they hoped I would accept it. I would be taking some dictation,
transcribing, typing, and simple bookkeeping, consisting of
entering the days debits and credits into a ledger. My main
responsibility would be to prepare the daily bank deposit. For
several weeks, I was trained and always prepared it with my
immediate boss and another worker. We always worked as a
pair. It was top security, and it was scary. We had to be bonded.
After the other employees left, our purses, lunch boxes, and all
personal items were taken from us before we were locked into a
tiny office. We could not leave on our own. After the days receipts
were counted and the deposit slip completed, we entered a code,
a different one each day for security purposes. This rang a bell,
which brought a manager, who unlocked the door. After the
manager checked everything, a Brinks truck picked up the
deposit. We were then given our purse and personal items and
cleared to go home. I enjoyed this job very much and my salary
of $2.50 an hour was certainly better than being paid by the
piece with my speed on the sewing machine.

This sounds a bit "other worldly and clandestine", but it soon
became ordinary to me. Most importantly, I was off the floor
and away from the noise and chaos I associated with it. I did
realize, however, that it was not really chaotic, but was very
disciplined, smooth running, and efficient.

In retrospect, you would have thought that I would become an
expert seamstress and would love to sew. Neither happened. I
was never more than mediocre at this, and even though I did sew
for my children when they were small, I never really enjoyed it.
I had a feeling of sastisfaction, however, as I realized I had
braved the "refiner's fire", and I had survived. It also made for
some interesting story telling, especially the time I sewed my
finger to a seam. Bloody ouch!

And so, life moved on. I went home tired every day but with a
sense of accomplishment and anticipation as I looked forward
to the weekend when George would be home.

To Be Continued. . . .

Love Is In The Air. . . .Our First Home Together. . . .#10

Our plan to have me return to California, was set in motion much
sooner than we had thought. I had only been home for a few days
when George's first letter arrived telling me what had happened the
Saturday we had left him at the main gate of the Naval Training
Center in San Diego.

When he reported, they told him to go to his assigned barracks
and wait for instructions. His company of 40 men were assembled
there. An officer arrived and told them they would have Sunday
to get packed and ready to receive their orders. George went to
church Sunday morning and spent the rest of the day getting
packed and ready to go wherever his orders sent him.

Monday morning they were rousted out of bed very early and told
to have their beds made, barracks clean, dressed and ready to go.
They were formed into four columns of ten men each, to be
marched to an assembly area where they would receive orders for
their deployment. Nerves were taut and anticipation was high.
As they were marched in formation through several turns, they
were halted in front of the Personnel Office building. The officer
yelled "Halt!" and when they did, another officer called out
George's name and told him to "Fall Out!". He handed him an
envelope, said "These are your orders", and as the rest of the
company marched off, he was told to go into the building. They
sent him to a desk where he turned in his papers and after the
officer read them, he was told, "You will be serving here and
will be assigned to the Security Division.

We were so very relieved and happy. The time George spent
working for the FBI in Washington D.C., and the national
security clearance he had, was keeping him in the states and
in San Diego.

George and Lee immediately started the search to find us an
apartment in Westminster. Hopefully, they wanted to find one
near Jack and Lee's home. Housing was very limited due to
the Korean War and the many service and government
families who were struggling to get settled in the area. It
was hard not to be discouraged. How excited I was when a
letter George had mailed on August 28th, arrived.

With butterflies in my stomach, I opened it and read:

Dearest Ina,

Only five more days to go. Boy, it hardly seems true. I can
hardly wait for them to pass. The thing above is a drawing of
the apartment. It is about as big as Jack's living room. It is
just the right size for us. It has a pull down bed and a couch
and easy chair. They aren't new, in fact they are a little old,
but they are still good. All they need is covering.

It is all done in plaster and tile in the kitchen and bathroom.
It has a shower and no tub. There is a big closet in the bath-
room. It really is a nice big bathroom. In the kitchen, there
is a gas ice box. It is small but just the right size for us. There
is a small 4 burner stove with a full oven. It is also gas. It
is a cute kitchen and there is plenty of room to put things.
That is all there is. It is really clean and has a tile floor and it
won't be hard to keep clean. They have a laundry in the
garage that you can use at any time.

So, you will need all of our bedding and kitchen utensils, every
thing you need to keep house. Oh yes, don't forget a cookbook,
I think you will need one. Ha, Ha! (cook book is underlined,
very funny George!)

Lee is going to have the lights and gas turned on so all you will
have to do is move in. Jack put down $20.00 to hold it, so
you better have $45.00 to pay on the rent and to pay him back.
I'll get $18.00 Thursday. Boy, won't I be rich?" (He had worked
for Jack the previous Saturday.)

Ina talking. . .David and I were going to pick him up in San Diego
on Friday he gave me directions on how to get there and where to
meet him.

He ended the letter thus:

"I have to run and mail this letter, so must quit, and this will be
my last letter to you. Sure do love you lots, Love George

You can tell that he was excited about us being together again,
as was I. It was a happy meeting in San Diego and what fun we
had moving into our very first home together.

It was a really cute studio apartment. It was very near to Jack
and Lee's home. There was a store within walking distance
where I could get most of the necessities I would need.

We were sad to tell David goodbye but were grateful to him for
all he did to help us.

In true David style, he bid us goodbye with these words of
wisdom, "Stay off of those crazy freeways and away from those
wild California drivers, and be careful not to breathe too much
of that Southern California air, it won't do you any good."

It was a short weekend for George and I, but we had a wonderful
time getting settled into our first home together. We put some
of our pictures and other personal items throughout the house.
By the time George left on Monday morning, it really did look
and feel, like a home.

I still had enough settling in to do to make the five days before
he could come home again, pass quickly.

I planned on going out early in the morning and get several
newspapers to see what kind of jobs, if any, were available.

And so, with a smile on my face and sweet dreams when I went to
bed, I looked forward, with joy, to another beautiful day. . . .

To Be Continued. . . .

David. . . .On California, Love, and Marriage. . . .

David, being David and the big "tease" he was, had a great time
poking fun at us about California. He continued to do this
throughout his life, even as he and his family would visit us there
and have a wonderful time.

For our 5oth Wedding Anniversary celebrated at a Family Reunion
in Panaca, we received a beautiful book full of memories and
tributes from family and friends. David's is wonderful and evokes
precious memories of mine and George's marriage, our move to
California, and our first home together.

He wrote:

Dear George and Ina,

"Marriage resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they can't be
separated after moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing
anyone that comes between them.

Shortly after George and Ina were married, I helped them move to
Westminster, California. After unloading about half of the boxes, a
neighbor lady invited us in for a break. We were sitting around the
living room talking and a bobcat jumped up on my lap. Needless
to say, it startled me. The woman said it was just a "kitty cat". She
said she found it on her back doorstep before it's eyes were open.
She wouldn't believe me when I told her it was a wild cat. She said
it is "just a big beautiful kitty cat".

When I started to leave, I was thinking, "I hope Ina doesn't want me
to come and get her next week." Then, I had another thought, "Ina
must love this guy to come to live where people try to run over
you and your neighbors have wild cats for pets."

That was 50 years ago. Now I want to congratulate them on the
big 50th anniversary and to wish them many more wedding
anniversaries.

I want to thank Ina for being a very great sister and George for
taking care of my sister. Thanks to both of you for the good
times you gave to me when I came to Arizona with Martie. The
trip was one of the highlights of the last few years for me. Just.
try and be angry with someone who just fed you something
delicious.

Grandparent: Something so simple that a child can operate it.

Something for the ones that have had their 5oth: The quickest
way to get things done is to take your time. God didn't create
hurry."

God Bless You, Love, David

Thank you David. I love you.

Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet Love. . . .#9

It seemed so different to be back home in Panaca knowing I was
now married and had left my husband in California. I missed him
and as I did not know when I would see him again, I was lonely.

I had asked Esther if I could delay coming back to work until the
blisters from the extensive sunburn I had received from our day
at the beach, were completely healed. She had someone working
for me on a temporary basis and told me to come back when the
burn was completely healed.

I used that time to look at all of our wedding gifts and catalog
them. Since I didn't know where we would be living and how
much room we would have, I was sorting them into categories of
items we would need, those I wanted to take if we had room, and
others that we would not need at this time. It was a fun task and
I was amazed and delighted at the variety of wonderful things we
received. Mom and I had so much fun doing this. Her advice on
what to take and what would not be necessary, really helped me.

I wrote George every day, but of course he could not write me
as often. I was so excited when I received my first letter. When
I looked at the envelope and saw that it was addressed to Mrs.
George Paul Wimsatt, Jr., it didn't seem real.

George didn't know yet what his assignment would be; would he
stay in San Diego, go someplace else stateside, or be deployed
to active duty. He was worried about me being alone in San
Diego not knowing anyone and not having a car. Finding us
housing with so many other service families looking, and
not knowing how long he would be there, would be a problem.
He thought the best thing for me would be to find a place for us
in Westminster where I would be near Jack and Lee.

Lee's brother had a very close friend who was a navy medic
stationed in San Diego. He had a car and commuted back and
forth. It was a long drive, which could be very lonely and
tiring, and he was happy to invite George to ride with him.

It wasn't the ideal situation, but it was the answer for us. They
would come home on Friday and go back very early Monday
morning. On George's duty weekends, he would not be able to
come home and so we were looking at some two week stretches
where we would not be together. I was not looking forward to
that, but if I was able to find a job, I would be busy during the
day and it would just be the nights that would be lonely.

Our plan was thus; George would go to Westminster on his
duty free weekends and stay with Jack and Lee. He and Lee
would look for an apartment for us and he could earn a few
extra dollars working with Jack on Saturdays.

Jack's business was installing carpet, tile, and other floor
covering. He contracted with Sears and Roebuck stores
in the area. His and George's father, George, and uncles
Bert and Charles, had also had a floor covering business
and contracts with Sears stores in the Los Angeles area.

I discussed this with Esther. She said she would start the
process to hire someone to replace me and I could train
her. In the meantime, I would be getting my personal
things ready and the household items from our gifts that
I would be taking to California. My brother David could
not fathom why me, or anyone else, would want to live
in California. He said, "Ina, that's a crazy place to live
and anyone who lives there, is nuts!" Even so, he said that
he could understand why I would want to be with George,
and so "against my better judgement, I will move you!"
We put our plan into action and hoped it would come
together in jig time

And so, I watched for his letters, and with butterflies
in my stomach, I waited. . . .

To Be Continued. . . .

Memories Of My Mother, Lois Stewart Wadsworth. . . .

Our honeymoon in California was the most exciting thing that
had ever happened to me. I had fantasized about California
for as long as I could remember. My mother had a dream to
see the ocean and walk along the beach with the waves gently
caressing her feet as they rolled into the shore. Even though
she had never seen it, she loved looking at pictures and reading
about it. She loved music about the ocean. She loved poetry
and I grew up reading poems she had written and listening
to her recite some of poetry's masterpieces. The Ancient
Mariner by Samuel Taylor Colridge and The Chambered
Nautilus by Oliver Wendell Holmes were two of her favorites.
They were long poems and I marveled that she could recite
them so perfectly. I was determined to memorize both of them
and as a teenager, I did memorize The Chambered Nautilus and
would recite it back to her.

Two of mother's brothers lived in California, Uncle Viv (Vivian
Henrie), lived in South Gate and then Fullerton, and Uncle Dade
(David Brinton), lived in Los Angeles. They both knew of her
love for the ocean and always brought gifts portraying it when
they visited her. She loved seashells and they brought them to
her. At one time, Uncle Dade gave her a nautilus shell. They
sent postcards of ocean scenes and pictures of them at the beach.
Mother didn't have the opportunity to visit them in California
until George and I lived there. By then Uncle Dade had moved
away and died much too young, at age 48. Mother never got
over his death as she had been such an important part of his life
as he was growing up.

The Lloyd Mathews family lived across the street from us in
Panaca. Their daughter, Beverly, was mine and Delores' play-
mate. Beverly's grandmother was Margaret Ann Wadsworth, a
cousin of my Grandfather, Nephi John. Beverly's first cousins
and my distant cousins, sisters from California, often visited them.
These girls lived near the beach in Los Angeles. They talked about
the ocean and playing on the beach. Their life sounded so exciting,
I found myself envying them.

My beloved Aunt Lizzie Edwards, Elizabeth Alice Wadsworth, a
sister to my grandfather, Nephi John, and her husband, William
Edwards, lived in Panaca. When they were a young married
couple, they lived in California. After returning to Panaca, they
often had family and friends from California as guests at their
home. One of those visitors was Darla Jean Hood. She was just
a few months younger than me. Aunt Lizzie always had Delores
and I come to her home when Darla was there. That was so
exciting. Darla was a gifted child actress. She played the role of
Darla, who was a member of the "gang" in the Our Gang and The
Little Rascal movies. So, as a little girl, I actually played with a
movie star from Hollywood, California. I don't remember if Darla
was Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Will's niece or granddaughter. I think
she was their granddaughter.

As a little girl and teenager, I often told my parents that when I
grew up I was going to live by the beach in California. I also
promised myself that when I did, I would walk the beach with my
mother and we would pick up seashells together as the waves
rolled into shore, and watch the sun set into the ocean. When we
are children, we dream of wonderful adventures and we make many
promises to ourselves. Some come true and some do not. These,
did, and I have stories I will tell about those special times.

A point of interest to this story; as an adult serving in the Young
Women and Relief Society organizations in various wards, I often
used the poem, "The Chambered Nautilus" in my lessons and
presentations.

The nautilus is a beautiful shell. It is composed of chambers. In
the beginning, it is an inch long and contains seven tiny chambers.
These chambers are filled with gas which gives it the buoyancy to
move through the ocean, even when storms rage and the waters
are troubled. As it grows, it will add new chambers to it's shell,
each larger than the last. The inside of the shell has a lining of
lustrous nacre and a nearly perfect spiral that always reaches
upward. It's journey through life is much like our life's journey
as we gain our physical and spiritual growth. The last stanza of
The Chambered Nautilus is beautiful. It was Mother's favorite
and is also mine. I want to share it with you:

Build thee more stately mansions, oh my soul,
as the swift seasons roll.

Leave thy low vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,

Shut thee from Heaven with a dome more vast,
till at length thou art free,

leaving thine outgrown shell by life's
unresting sea!

I was never fortunate enough to find a nautilus shell, but
Mom and I did walk the beach together and pick up many
beautiful shells of all kinds. Many times we just sat and
watched the waves crest and break as they rushed toward
the shore. Mother also loved to watch the sun set into the
vast expanse of water as the tide ebbed and the ocean birds
called out to each other as they settled for the night. These
memories are vivid and they are precious.

She also enjoyed exploring the beach and picking up seashells
with my children, Paul, Rhonda, and Craig when they were
little, just as I did, and then later as I experienced the wonder
of it with my grandchildren. I have stories to tell about that.

My mother was an amazing woman. She was the second child
in a family of seven children, five boys and two girls, with her
brother Karl being the eldest. She was born in Fredonia,
Arizona, on October 22, 1897. In 1901, when she was almost
four, her family moved to Alamo, Nevada. Her father, David,
and two of his brothers, Will and Tommy, had purchased part
of a ranch and other property in Alamo. This was an exciting
time for them, they were looking forward to expanding and
improving their lives.

Mom's parents, Lois Crosby and David Brinton Stewart, loved
their children and their home was filled with love and laughter.
She often told me how happy her early childhood was. Then,
when she was nine years old, tragedy struck. David's sister
Ethel, was moving to what later became known as the Henrie
ranch. It was located down the canyon from Caliente. Ethel
sent word to Grandpa David that she would like his help to
move. He worked hard to get her settled and by the time the
move was made, repairs to the house completed, and Ethel
settled in, it was nearing Christmas. He caught the stage to
Caliente. There was a heavy storm and since he was the only
passenger traveling on from there, the stage did not go all of
the way to Alamo but turned around in Hiko and returned to
Caliente. He looked for a way home, but with the storm and
Christmas near, there was no way available. He had promised
his family he would be home for Christmas, and so he walked
16 miles in the cold storm. He had asthma from the time he
was a boy and his lungs had been damaged. By the time he
arrived home, he had pneumonia. Even with careful nursing
and fervent prayer, his life could not be saved. He died on
Christmas Eve. He was only 39 years of age. His youngest
child, David Brinton, (Uncle Dade) was not yet six months old,
and Taylor Fay had just turned three. Fay's twin, Levi Ray
had died the previous year when he had just turned two.

Before Grandpa died, he called Karl to his bedside and talked
to him about what his responsibilities were going to be. The
duties and cares of a man were placed upon his shoulders. He
was only eleven years old but he willingly promised his father
that he could, and would, do this. At age seven, Vivian was old
enough to be of some help to Karl.

He then talked to Mom. He told her that her mother was going
to be very lonely and that she was going to need a lot of help with
the babies. Mom told us that she would never forget how she
felt when he once again told her to keep her mother company
and not let her be too lonely. She kept that promise to her father.
She and her mother, my Namie, were confidants and best friends
from that day until her mother died in 1936.

To support her children, Namie had to go to work and mom be-
came the housekeeper and little mother to her younger siblings.
Her only sister, Theresa, was too young to be of much help to
her as she was just five years old. When she wasn't in school,
Lois, a child herself, carried her baby brother David, around in
a sling she designed, while she cared for the other children, did
housework, cooked meals, and kept up with her homework.

I marvel when I contemplate upon this because the woman my
mother became was not a reflection of the hard life she had while
growing up. She had little chance for a formal education. There
was no high school in Alamo, the nearest was Lincoln County High
School in Panaca, 79 miles away. Loving school and having an
intense desire to learn, she obtained permission from school
officials to repeat the eighth grade. This proved to be a very good
thing as the new teacher for the eighth grade was James Allen
Wadsworth from Panaca. When she had only been in his class
for several weeks, she went home one day and told her mother,
"I am going to marry Mr. Wadsworth when I get older." Namie,
of course, told her she was being silly, but we know that statement
came true. James treated her with the utmost respect as her
teacher that year, but she captured his heart, and in 1917, when
she was twenty and he was thirty they were married. Even
though she had never been able to go to Panaca to high school, she
and Karl, with help from their Uncle Tommy Stewart, made sure
their younger siblings had the opportunity to do so.

What a remarkable woman Lois Stewart Wadsworth was. Despite
her lack of formal education, she was one of the most intelligent
woman I ever knew. She was kind and generous, funny and sassy.
Dad used to say she was a blithe spirit with her charming smile,
twinkling eyes, and merry laugh. She loved her seven children
with an unconditional love. She adored and supported her husband
wholeheartedly even though it often meant she was home alone with
their children and the responsibility of farm and ranch chores while
he was away on ranch duties or pursuing his responsibilities
as a Nevada State Senator.

She worked tirelessly from dawn to dusk (but, yes, she did get very
tired). She milked the cows, slopped the hogs, gathered eggs, and
forked hay to the horses and cattle. She could kill a chicken, pluck,
and cook it, for her family"s dinner. She could butcher a hog. She
planted and weeded in the garden and canned hundreds of jars of
fruits and vegetables each year.

She was famous for her cooking in Panaca, Lincoln County, and even
beyond those boundaries. Her pies, cakes, bread, cinnamon rolls and
donuts were the things of legend. People knew when her baking days
were and would "just happen" to drop by. They always left with some
baked goods. Her Halloween taffy pulls were a favorite tradition for
the children of Panaca.

She loved to pick up pine nuts. She knew exactly where to go to find
the most and the best. She harvested pounds of them each year.
Some of these pine nuts along with her suet pudding and lemon
sauce, fruit cake, homemade candies, pickles (especially mustard
pickle), jam, jelly, and peach melon preserve, always came to us for
the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.

She was a gifted seamstress and her daughters always had the most
beautiful clothes. She usually had a quilt on frames in the living room
and her patterns and quilting stitches were intricate and beautiful. I
grew up thinking that all little girls played and had their tea parties
under quilting frames. Her hand work, embroidery and crocheting,
were amazing. When her children were little and then when her
grandchildren began to arrive, she made dolls, doll clothes, stocking
monkeys, teddy bears, and other stuffed toys for them.

She was a faithful and active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter Day Saints. She served her sisters, and their families in the
gospel, as well as other residents of the county, tirelessly and un-
selfishly. She nursed the sick. She delivered babies with her mother
in the days when midwives were more often available than the over
worked doctors. She continued to do this after her mother died. She
lovingly prepared deceased women for burial, making them look
beautiful, and bringing comfort to their families.

She was a marvelous and talented story teller. She knew more poems
than most people read in a lifetime. My siblings and I grew up on her
stories and poems. Her grandchildren grew up listening to her stories
and poems, the same ones we loved; Little Orphan Annie, Little Boy
Blue, The Spider and the Fly, and Betty and The Bear. She made sure
her children loved to read and always had the best books available
to us. A good book was one of our favorite gifts.

Mother always had time for her grandchildren. In the summer, she
often had six to ten from out of town staying there, plus the seven
who lived in Panaca. Her house and yard looked like a camp for
boys and girls, and I guess that is what it was. She was the
perfect grandmother. They called her "Granny" and adored her.

She would stop whatever she was doing to play with them. She let
them eat donuts as fast as she could cook them. She patiently made
toast for milk toast for their "who can eat the most slices of milk
toast'" contests. She let them gather an egg for their breakfast, and
pick corn, tomatoes, and melons from the garden. Three things she
told them not to do, which they often did anyway, were not to climb
the fruit trees, pick her roses, or swing on the garden and front gates.
Even when they did those things, they were scolded with a twinkle
in her beautiful eyes.

She and my father instilled in their children a love for the Gospel of
The bible and The Book of Mormon. They taught us to love, honor,
and respect our parents, our siblings, our prophet and other church
leaders, the leaders of our nation, and as we married, our spouses.

They established family traditions and taught us to love them and
instilled within us a desire to see that we preserved them through the
years. They taught us to serve our fellow men, work hard. and pray
often.

I loved her so much. I admired and respected her. She was my best
friend. Is it any wonder that I wanted to give her a precious gift,
something she loved and desired? That I wanted to share our love for
the ocean. That I wanted to walk the beach with her and pick up sea
shells. That I wanted to sit with her and watch the sun set into the
ocean with all of it's glorious color, as the tide gently ebbed pulling
the water back into the sea. That I wanted her and I to share some
thing that was "our" special time together. That I wanted to see her
smile and hear her merry laugh. That I wanted to laugh as she oohed
and aahed when she found that "perfect" seashell. She was like a child
on Christmas morning as we shared these experiences and I was so
happy and excited that I was able to make it possible for her.

Mother, your little great great grandson, Brexton , Rhonda's grandson
and Brinton's son, shares your birthday of October 22nd. Today, as
we celebrate his 6th birthday, I will laugh at his joy and enthusiasm,
I will remember yours, and I will laugh again. I know you will be
laughing, too.

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for all you did for me. Thank you
for sharing some of my happiest and most exciting adventures. I can't
wait to see you again. What fun we will have!

Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you. I am blessed and honored to call
you "Mother".