A Past Moment in Time Becomes History

Margo and Roy Brooks with James Robbins standing aside

On April 6, 1940, a Federal Census Enumerator, Huberty Frank,  visited the homes on Mears Avenue in the township of West Riverside in the unincorporated area called Mira Loma,  California. This record indicates that the  home where I lived was rented by my Mother, Hazel Gibson Brooks, and it was located next door to the home of her father, Lovell Edgar Gibson, on the same side of the street.  I was thirteen years old at that time living with my siblings, Phyllis, age 11, Vivian, age 9, and Loren, age 7.  My  mother worked as a supervisor for the W.P.A. in social services earning   about $750 dollars per year at the age of 34 years.  She and our father, Royal H. Brooks , had recently divorced (June 10, 1939) and she became the sole provider for her family of four children.  My grandfather’s home (next door) was at this time occupied by my grandmother, Annettie Nelson Gibson, age 58, living alone with her son George Gibson, age 21.  My grandfather died eight weeks earlier (February  4, 1940) leaving grandmother with little or no support.   My uncle George was a shoe salesman for a widowed man, Mr. William Derry,  located on Sceine Drive near Mears Avenue and was often away traveling with him and earning about $300 dollars per year.

My grandfather died while I was visiting my grandparents in the evening of February 4.   I would often visit my grandparents after school while my mother came home late from work.  On this particular occasion, my grandfather and I with my grandmother were listening to a radio program called “Amos and Andy”.  My grandparents had large arm chairs that they sat upon in the living room when visiting with guests or listening to the radio.  My grandfather said to my grandmother: “Nettie, (which is what everyone called her) I have heartburn so I think I’ll go get a dose of soda”.  As he walked past my grandmother’s chair, he began to fall and my grandmother caught him in her arms and let him slide to the floor.  My grandmother called to me and asked me to get my mother quickly.  I ran next door and told my mother and she came quickly to my grandfather’s side and determined he was dead.  She closed his eyes with much sorrow and tears from us all.  This vivid memory was recalled as I read the 1940 Census for Mears avenue.

Other memories were with respect to our family’s relationship with my Mother’s sister, Bertha Gibson Miller.  Uncle Bill Miller and Aunty Bertha lived just four houses down the street from our house on the same side of the street on Mears Avenue.  The census record for their rented home showed that William Miller, age 29 years, was living with his wife Bertha, age 27 and their one year old daughter, Jeanette. Uncle Bill worked as a laborer at the cement plant.  Uncle Bill was born in North Carolina while his wife Bertha was born in Clinton, Utah near where my mother was born.  My memory goes back to the large garden that uncle Bill planted each year and to the strawberries that were produced.  

After the census was taken in 1940, a rented home became available directly in front of the Miller home on Mears Avenue that was less expensive than where we were next to my grandma’s home.  Our move into this home brought us in closer contact with Aunty Bertha and Uncle Bill. It was here when I got my first bicycle for Christmas in 1940.    There were many children in the neighborhood at that time and we always found ways to have great fun with each other.  The next door neighbor was a family by the name of Neelson which I had become acquainted with.  According to the 1940 Census record, they had four children, three of which were close to my age, Lois, Charles and Betty, ages 17, 15 and 11 respectively.  I remember that they did not have a good influence upon me, using vulgar foul language, etc.  However,  I and other of my friends became acquainted with a wood carver across the street that had a good influence upon me and others. We would on a Saturday, ride on our bikes with him into the city of Riverside, about 7 miles from our home. Upon our arrival, he would buy us each a milk shake.  I became very fond of Pineapple milk shakes and to this very day I remember that great taste.

 It was here when we got the frightening news of the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor.  

It was from here that we went to the rock quarry late one night and covered the railroad tracks with axel grease so the train carrying rock to the breakwater at Long Beach would spin its wheels and be unable to travel.

It was here that Roy Russell and my brother Loren and I shot a magnificent quarry owl.

It was here that we watched Buddy Palmer play with his wagon and make sounds like an outboard motor where ever he went.

It was here that Jerry Heart and I became blood brothers by mingling our blood together and writing in blood a note to be buried in a secret place.

During this same period of time (August 22, 1940) when the 1940 Census was being taken, not far away in the city of Los Angeles, my father was enumerated on Fourth Avenue.  He was enumerated as a single divorced male, age 37, living as a partner with Ted Stevenson, age 36, a surveyor for the city of Los Angeles.  My father’s business as reported in the census was a “proprietor in the drug business”.  I don’t remember seeing my father after my parents divorced except for one occasion.   After I graduated from Utah State University,  my wife and our two children returned to Riverside to live on Mears Avenue across the street from where my grandparents used to live.  Their old home no longer existed at that time, but  while living there in 1952, my father came to see me and he brought with him a baby girl that may have been 3 to 6 months old.  Obviously, this child of his was from his present marriage of which I knew nothing about.   My father may have given me the baby’s name but I did not recall it.   A photo was given to me later in life from my cousin James Robbins where in my father was kneeling next to a girl about 6 or 7 years of age and the photo was entitled, “ Margo and Roy Brooks” noted above.

I suspect this is the same child that visited us with my father on Mears Avenue.  The only birth record in the state of California for a female child born in 1952 by the name of Margo was located in the California Birth Index.  The record is for Margo Melinda Brooks, born November 8, 1952 in Orange County, California.  Her mother’s maiden name was Bacon.  A copy of the original certificate would indicate the name of the father.

            That moment in time recorded by the census enumerator brought back memories that add to my history and perhaps, prompted a little more research.

What a Treat

I can't even express my elation when I read Dad's blog and learned so much about my Mother. I treasure Dad's autobiography so much and to finally hear some of Mom's stories has brought me jjoy. I love thinking that my parents were much like me, in that they had thoughts and feelings. Hurt feelings, joyful experiences. We forget as children that our parents are people too! Thank you to my wonderful Father who has given me the "passion" and "want" to know all about my ancestors. He has been a wonderful example. In so much that he is writing a book about my "in-laws" and being a part of watching the joy it has brought to my husband. I know all the Giandomenico's will cherish it. My boys are at an age where they don't appreciate it yet, but they will be so grateful to their grandfather for it.

I love my Mom & Dad and all the wonderful and fun things they have taught me. Now, I get the priviledge of trying to give back to them! How will that ever happen, after ALL they have given to me. But I sure enjoy trying!!! All my love!! Erin

Teen age Memories

The first home that my father and mother lived in when they moved from Louisiana to California.  The two two story part  was  added later.  Uncle Roy and Aunt Sidna were invited to stay here until they found a suitable place to live.

"Casper's Hot Dogs" my favorite place for fast food during my youth

No longer in use "John Swift High School"

The old Elmhurst Chapel where I attend the LDS Ward just a few blocks from where I used to live.

The old Diamond Ward Chapel where Evelyn and Wanda attended church not far from where I lived.

A view from our neighborhood of Oakland and the San Francisco Bay.

The home where Wanda and Evelyn lived before World War II

Castlemont Jr. High School

Castlemont Jr. High School that I attended

The Bret Harte Jr. High School on Hopkins Boulevard.

The present Oakland Temple

Before the Oakland Temple was built we called this Temple Hill

My home on Lytle Street during my growing up years in Oakland.

Memories of Anita June Loe

Part III

Another fun memory (for me!) was bluffing my way into being a good cook! Aunt Sidna, Uncle Roy and Granny Cummings had gone to visit some of the relatives in the area. They left, saying they would be home “about dark”. There was’nt much evident in the kitchen to eat and we were getting VERY hungry!! As usual, I was the “bluffer” and convinced Wanda and Evelyn that I could make some cornbread. Now….I HAD made cornbread, (with Mother directing most every step, and a cupboard pretty well stocked.) So I proceeded with the bluff, accompanied with a silent prayer or two…we were starving!!

I will have to say that to this day, we still agree that it has to be the BEST cornbread any of us have ever tasted!! We were a very close knit family and spent a lot of time in one another’s homes, visiting, working or playing, One of my most favorite aunts was Forella Lindley. She was my mothers mother’s sister. Her married name was Pritchett. She was a twin sister of Della Lindley Puckett. After my Grandmother Rainie, Uranah Alpha (Affire possibly) Lindley died, her sister Forella, sort of became a substitute parent along with Granny Cummins. My Mother adored Aunt Frill and as a result , so did we! We visited her often as she lived in San Jose ( maybe 20 miles from our home. Each time we visited her she would send us home with a small size bottle of apple jelly. It always seemed so special. Her twin sister, Della, would always send us home with a little perfume bottle.

One time Wanda, Evelyn, Merva and I took the train to San Jose to spend a week with Aunt Frill. We were fixing breakfast one morning and I was opening a jar of jam that had a paraffin seal. The knife went right through the wax seal down through the jam and out the bottom. I was humiliated. It seems like that sort of thing was always happening to me!

During the war her son went into the military. Orin had been sent overseas. Mother and Daddy more or less took responsibility for her. Getting her into the hospital was a real hassle. They had to prove that her son was overseas , the Red Cross was very helpful. She came to our home to recuperate and we really learned a special love for her. One afternoon I was sitting in the hall (doing a little eavesdropping I suspect), I could hear Mother crying and a little discussion that led me to believe a little spat between my folks had occurred. I think I heard Aunt Frill kind of close the discussion with the with the wisdom, “well, Non, if it ain’t bed bugs its piss ants.” I have thought of that a thousand times and come to believe it!

My grandfather, Chester Arthur Lee, was also a fixture in my life. He always seemed to live quite close to us. It seemed he always had a small trailer and He would park at the side of , or in the driveways of our house. He was a diamond in the rough…a very earthly man who didn’t like restraints. He wanted to be free to roam when he wanted to. He had married a lovely lady whose name was Pansy. They were very much a part of our lives. When Mother was in bed for that year with “milk leg”. Grandpa Lee and Grandma Pansy moved their trailer into our driveway and helped take of Belva and Me. My Brother Cal was born in 1943 and things began looking up somewhat. Mother and Daddy had purchased a beautiful building lot in East Oakland and began plans to build a new home. I was about 13 years old and excited, yet sorry to move what seemed like such a long way from Wanda and Evelyn. They were really closer to me socially and as confidants than Belva. We moved into a “young” ward…Elmhurst….and I kind of became a teen-ager of some popularity, which was great fun. This was also close to the Oak Knoll Navy base so there were always a lot of handsome, young men to build a silly young girl’s ego. It was a lot of fun going to dances and activities at mutual. We were able to get together and go to the Stake dances in downtown Oakland. That too, brings back wonderful memories to me. Occasionly we could convince Aunt Elsie to let Merva go with us …what wonderful memories! I believe that is one of the reasons that we have remained close as adults. Life has had a way of separating us all geographically, yet we stay in contact and remain somewhat involved in each others lives.

It was also during this period, in 1945, that My dad had a near fatal heart attack. He was out of work for months. Mothers frugal management was one of the reasons we were able to get by as well as we did. Mother, Belva and I would go out and pick peaches early in the morning, arriving back home about noon, then Daddy would get on the phone and start calling people to “sell” the peaches and by evening they would all be gone. We would have dinner, go to bed. get up and start all over again! It was a very rough time for them and as a young couple with a young family I can imagine their despair! Once again however, their hardiness and ingenuity would get them by!

During this time aunt “Frill” Forella Lindley Pritchett, who was a twin sister of Della Lindley Puckett and a sister to my mother’s mother Uranah Alpha (Affire) Lindley, came to live with us. Aunt “Frill” was very close to my mother. I remember that when we would go to visit her (before her illness) she would always send us home with apple jelly. She was an excellent cook. One of her specialties was tapioca pudding. My dad had bought a 50 pound sack of tapioca and during this time we would beg her every day to make us some tapioca pudding. She would always say “run out to the fruit pantry and get me a cup of tapioca and I’ll make us some tapioca pudding”. I’ve eaten a bit of tapioca pudding since then but have never tasted any to equal that.

My mother’s father, Chester Arthur Lee was another very important figure in my life. He was everything a grandpa should be….and then some! He gave me my first sip of coffee, my first taste of beer and even a sip of whiskey one time! He was actually the only grandparent I knew since “Mama and Papa Loe ” lived in Arkansas and only visited twice that I can remember, once in California and once in Oregon. Grandpa Lee wasn’t completely dependable but he was always “there” when he was needed. Kind of a drifter, he didn’t like schedules or to be “pinned down” in anyway. I could almost say He was “led by the spirit” except he wasn’t a very spiritual man! But somehow he managed to show up at the right time in the right place. He didn’t give Birthday cards or Christmas gifts but he did give hugs and kisses!

Mother was a marvel! She could make a meal out of anything and usually have enough for company. I remember that we seemed to always have a lot of visitors. Mother and Daddy’s home was always open, people loved to be there. I think that is one great quality that I hope I have inherited from both of them. They were never too busy to be gracious or to be hospitable. I realize now what a comparatively short period of time they had been away from their cousins and family that they had been close to in the south and what a joy it was to see them all again. We seemed to have a lot of company from the Lindley’s and the Lindley’s. What wonderful memories!

Today as I remember some of the things they laughed at and about I get a better understanding of how far they had come from their own childhoods. My Mother had spent a great deal of her young life with Granny Cummings. Grandpa Lee would send her there to Gilmer, Texas to stay during the planting time while he and the brothers would go plant crops, then send for her when the harvest time came, to cook and work for the kitchen crew. Granny lived in a very primitive house in Gilmer, Texas and she was a real fixture….and character! She loved to drive fast in the car and asked if any car she was driving couldn’t go any faster than 50 miles an hour Given her age and the condition of the dirt road she was on was pretty gutsy! She dipped snuff and carried a small can and a spoon with her all the time. When Granny reached her 85^th birthday Grandpa went to live with and take care of her. He decided to do some remodeling, including putting indoor plumbing. She wrote to the family in California complaining about Chester putting a “shit house” in her kitchen! Many of my memories seem so strange and wonderful as I think back at the mix of “cultures” in our home. Visitors from the South bringing their accents and colloquialisms, seeing and tasting things for the first time. As I write this today it almost seems impossible that there was that much difference between a “northerner and a southerner!” We always had a wonderful sense of bonding…Mother was a wonderful hostess and our home was always open and lots of wonderful food! She was an excellent cook and could stretch a pound of hamburger into a banquet. Several times my own children have complimented me for much this same trait.

Another unusual pattern that was part of our family life was the staying together. I’m certain that a huge contributing factor was the marrying of two brothers and one sister to two sisters and one brother! They loved each other without question…it really was “one for all and all for one”.

After my Father had his heart attack in 1946 he was told that he would never work again. He was terribly depressed and Mother and Daddy struggled financially. Mother had bought war bonds during the war and slowly they had to begin cashing them in. That summer Mother, Belva, Cal and I would get up at daybreak and go out to pick peaches. When we returned in the afternoon Daddy would get on the phone and start calling people to sell them to. They would come to the house and pick them up. I realize now as I am older, what a difficult and frightening time that must have been for all of them.

The move to Oregon was indeed a change of life for all of us. We became “back to the earth people”…..Mother planted a huge garden (which she loved to do and always had done), they bought a cow which Belva learned to milk…..Cal helped!!! My responsibilities always concerned the house cleaning. Mother always did all the cooking, she was an outstanding , creative cook…always taking over that responsibility for all the BIG family dinners.

I need to back track a bit and insert that following the typical pattern of the Lee’s and Loe’s, where one went, they all went! Within a years time, Uncle Barney and his family, Uncle Ted ‘s family and Grandpa Lee had all followed the trek to Oregon. They all located somewhat close for a while. Uncle Ted eventually located in Springfield and Grandpa Lee bought acreage in Creswell so we continued our tradition of family get-togethers. Generally frequently, but always, always on Holidays, birthdays and other special occasions. We certainly looked for reasons to get together and enjoyed every minute. We never seemed to get into the two against one mode, we enjoyed and loved all the cousins equally!

In the year 1945 Aunt Sidna and Uncle Roy moved to Eugene,Oregon, The second world war and just ended and the work in Oakland, California was not good. With the men coming home from the military and Daddy not having much education in addition to recovering from his heart attack, things were pretty hard for them. Uncle Roy had heard through some contacts he had that things were better in Oregon. The men went up to investigate the possibilities and made the determination that the opportunities were much greater there than in California. In a week or so the men called and told the wives to sell the houses and start making preparations for a move to Eugene, Oregon. Of course being a teen age girl this was pretty devastating! I had gone into Mutual (now called Young Women)..the organization in the Church which was geared to socializing for the young people. I had made a lot of good friends in the Elmhurst Ward of the Church in Oakland and felt that the end of the world was looming for me. I couldn’t even imagine making new friends and making a place for myself in a new location.

I think also, that it must have very difficult for Mother. They had only been in their new home in Oakland about a year or so. It was a beautiful home on a hillside overlooking the city, you could see the Oakland Bay Bridge, all the lights of the city….a very beautiful setting. But Daddy’s health had changed and I’m sure the opportunity of starting a new business, especially with the health problems he had recently developed, made it extraordinarily appealing. They went to Eugene, Oregon on a “scouting” expedition, bought a logging truck and rented a house!

A short word about my Father’s personality. He was average height, and a fairly average build. His grey-ish eyes were mild and friendly. He was a very out-going person, and certainly met the standard of “never meeting a stranger”.

The challenge of getting his life back after suffering that near fatal heart attack was one he met “head on”!! He set out to earn a living logging and soon was running a fleet of log trucks.

Mother and Daddy bought a very small two bedroom house on Oak Drive in Eugene, Oregon. Daddy tackled finishing the garage and makeing sort of a “family room” which doubled as my bedroom. It was really cramped when my Dad’s sister Jewell and her son Alfred Gene came to stay with us. They didn’t stay very long as they didn’t like the country life very much after having lived in the big city! They soon returned to Oakland so our home was once again adequate for a while.

It was while we were living there I had my first real experience being “in love”. I had met a boy from Louisiana who had an accent as thick as molasses. He was cute…with reddish blonde hair! Having lived in the city with all the bright lights reflecting in the sky I guess I had never really paid much attention to the stars. Especially how bright they were without street lights shining anywhere to dim them! I had been on a date with a boy named Gene Simpson , we were walking down the long, dark lane to our house, which was without any street lights, when a meteor shower started and it frightened me, literally, almost to death. I had never seen anything like it. I started running and crying and saying “ the end of the world is coming , you don’t understand…. “the end of the world is coming!” I was almost hysterical. He ran to the door and started knocking, saying “Mr. Loe, “Something is wrong with Anita’…… she is hysterical!!.....you’d better come”. I can’t remember that I ever had another date with him!

We were received in the Eugene Ward of the Church as though we were royalty! We were (modestly) pretty, talented and fun. Wanda Loe, my cousin, had gotten her drivers license so we were really flying high! There were no boys our age in the ward so we started inviting those we met to activities at Mutual. Soon we had a wonderful group of kids attending. Several of them joined the church, so we were in teen age heaven. As it turned out, Mirial was the only one to marry a local boy. Wanda and Evelyn both went to BYU and met their future husbands there. About the time we moved to Eugene another family came…Hazel Brooks Adams. She had two daughters, Phyllis and Vivian and two sons Loren and Royal. Vivian and I were immediately drawn to each other and became fast friends. She kept telling me that when her Brother came home from the Army she was going too make us get married so we could be “sisters”. As fate would have it that very thing did happen and we loved each other dearly all of our lives. My Mother-in law, Hazel Vanessa Gibson was a most wonderful person. She took me under her wing and treated me lovingly as a daughter from the first moment that I met her. She worked hard all of her life to raise her family alone. She and Mr. Brooks divorced when her children were quite young and she was the “bread-winner”, Mother, Friend and all that you would want a Mother to be. I loved her dearly as did our children, she was very good to all of us, helping out when things were “tight”…as they often were on student earnings and a large family. Because of her work schedule and Roy being in school, our contacts with her were limited. But never did a birthday, anniversary or special event occur without her sending a card, a dollar or some other gift. She was a wonderful, loving and caring person. I would love to be able to emulate her example as I deal with my “in-law” sons and daughters.

(To be continued)

RHB

Tibitha Gover

Photo Discovery

In looking through and sorting a collection of photos and other memorabilia, we found a photo of an unidentified person that was probably related to my wife, Anita. The name on the back of the photo was “Tabitha Gover?” Anita could not recognize the person in the photo. So, I went to New Familysearch as I only had a name to search for. The search resulted in the name being found with three different entries all with the same birth date, 14 February 1897. One entry produced the same birth date but the place was Gilmer, R #2 Texas. The “contributor” for these entries was “ LDS Church membership Records”. However, each of these entries showed that she was not connected to anyone, i.e. no parents, husband, just a single name.

Isabelle Josephine Crouch, Anita’s great grandmother, was married three times, one of which was to Samuel Banks Gover. That marriage produced three children: Maggie Armenta, Olive Belle, and Leonard Crouch. The previous marriage of Isabelle Josephine Crouch was to William Hector Lee which produced two children: Brunson Lester Lee and Chester Arthur Lee. William Hector Lee died in 1884 leaving his wife with two boys, Brunson and Chester. Isabelle Lee remarried Samuel Banks Gover in 1886 after which three more children were born. Samuel Banks Gover died in 1898 and Isabelle Josephine Gover was again left with children, this time five children.

The 1900 census indicated that Mrs. I.J. Gover had five children and all were living at that time and they were listed in this census as sons and daughter. An additional child, one year of age, Hector Gover, was also given and noted as being a grandson. Obviously Tabitha Gover did not fit into the Crouch/Gover family. Tabitha Gover, therefore must be a married name. Leonard Gover was the only male child that could produce a Gover descendant.

Sure enough, new familysearch produced a Leonard Gover married to a Tabitha Head. Thus it appeared that the photo we have is of Tabitha Head Gover, wife of Leonrad Gover. That marriage produced seven children, the last of whom was Reba Josephine Gover. A note on the back of our photo said, “ give to Reba Cartchner”. Returning again to familysearch it showed the Reba was married to “Dean Laws Kartchner”. The last name spelled with a K instead of a C. This confirmed that we have the photo of Reba’s mother.

Upon reflection, Anita remembered that Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Leonard were frequent visitors to her family when she was a young child. We also remembered when we spent a summer living with Aunt Armenta, Uncle Leonard’s sister. We called her Aunt Menty and she was married to Luther Bailey. I worked for Del Monte canning tomatoes that summer. One day I found a ten dollar bill walking to their home from work. Before going to their place, I stopped and bought a gallon of ice-cream and Uncle Luther thought I had brought them the greatest gift imaginable, a wonderful memory.

The other children living in the Gover home in 1900 was Brunson Lee, Chester Lee and Hector Gover, a grandson, (to Isabelle Josephine Gover), born in1899. Who were his parents? Of course, Chester Arthur Lee was the grandfather of Anita and the father of her mother, Edna Magnon Lee Loe. This interesting discovery occurred at the early morning hour of 1:30 am, Jan 13, 2012, a few hours after the birthday of our son Kevin Ross Brooks.

To Turn Our Hearts

Although this blog mostly concerns family history regarding the Brooks family and extended lines, I have often expressed my thoughts regarding the work of family history. This blog is an expression of recent thoughts on family history work.

I recently attended a meeting of family history consultants in Lake Oswego, Oregon. The speaker, Webster, was from Ogden, Utah and was an area director for family history. He began his talk by introducing the topic “Family History and Salvation”. The suggestion was that family history work should be considered as a resource for fulfilling the three objectives of the Church, i.e. Redeeming the Dead, Preaching the Gospel throughout the world and Strengthening its members. This new suggestion is titled “To Turn the Hearts”. The phrase comes from a scripture in Malachi, verses 5 and 6 in the last chapter: “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.” We know the Elijah has already appeared and conferred the keys needed to redeem the dead. This is evidenced by the great surge in genealogy throughout the world, i.e. finding our ancestors and connecting ourselves to our fathers and the extensive building of temples. This seems to fulfill the later part of the prophecy in Malachi of turning the heart of the children to their fathers. I have often wondered how the first part of Malachi’s prophecy comes into play, “turn the heart of the fathers to the children.”

I believe there is strong evidence that the world of departed spirits and the world of the living upon this earth are closely connected. Bruce R. McConkie upon addressing a group of assembled saints referred to his father making a statement a few hours before his passing, saying; my children, you have always been in my prayers and you will continue to be in my prayers after I leave this life. I believe that as we become acquainted with our departed fathers, mothers and others who are deceased, that they become a strength to us who live in a world of turmoil and uncertainty, a world filled with the power of Satan; a strength needed to overcome the forces of evil. The strength comes from our acquaintance with them and them with us. We truly need the strength from our departed fathers to live during these times so that salvation may come to us by being faithful to them and to the Savior.

To those who attend the temple regularly and receive of its power and safety, how is that possible without our hearts being turned to our fathers. A once in a life time trip to the temple would be of little help to us in staving off the influence of Satan. Temples are primarily for redeeming the dead and in the process bring salivation to the living. I am beginning to marvel at how interwoven the two worlds are and the blessings that flow from one to the other. Helping God’s children to become acquainted with their fathers is a blessing that flows from the fathers to the children and is of great value to the children of men during these latter days before the Savior comes to dwell with them. We realize the importance that our living fathers have upon their children, but often overlook the significance that our fathers who have passed from this life have upon us. What a great blessing it would be if the living fathers would sit down with their children and help them to become acquainted and develop a love with the grandfathers who have passed into the spirit world. Might they feel: ”I cannot get involved with sinful things because it would dishonor my grandfathers whom I love so very much”?

I hope my invited authors will respond to these thoughts and perhaps provide any personal experiences that are related to this great family history work.

RHB

Childhood Memories

Anita Loe Brooks

Part II

Our folks loved fishing and camping. Most of our “vacations” consisted of spending a great deal of time and energy setting up, cooking meals, heating water and cooking. Mother was the designated “head honcho” when it came to the meals. She planned the menus, made the assignments and followed through with complete command. She was an excellent cook and loved every minute of it! As I reminisce about these times I realize more and more the great heritage I enjoy. Our families were very close….two brothers and one sister marrying two sisters and one brother!!!

One of the sadnesses of life comes when one realizes that the opportunity of really having a relationship and getting to know the family members who live a distance away can never be really known or understood.

One of Mother’s older brother, Barney Lindley Lee married a girl from Salt Lake City who had been very active in the Church. (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints…the Mormons) .She had been raised in a very strong, active home and knew much about the programs. It was she who picked us up each week and took us to primary. We loved it! I personally feel a deep debt of gratitude for her faithfulness in giving us that opportunity. Grandpa Lee had joined the Church in Kelsey, Texas. Being the roustabout that he was he didn’t spend a lot of time with his family. Mother was usually sent to live with her grandmother, Belle, (Isabelle Crouch Lee Cummings) while the boys and Grandpa worked the “crops”. She was usually called sometime in the early summer when the crops came in and she would become the camp cook. As a result, she actually never completed a school year. That was always a deep regret that she didn’t ‘make her grades’. However she stepped up and was the ‘bookkeeper” when Loe Brothers Trucking got going!

In 1941 our lives changed dramatically! Japan bombed Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, sinking many ships and killing many of our service men. This began s new way of life for us. The United States declared war on Japan. Rationing became a way of life: gas, rubber. Butter. Coffee, Silk, Bananas, Chocolate, Sugar, Shoes. Metal was collected and sold. Air raid drills in school to practice being safe in school if bombed. Those classrooms near windows went out into the halls and knelt down covering our heads, others went out into the halls and knelt down covering their heads. This was shortly after my parents had built the “home of their dreams”. It was on a hillside overlooking the waters of the bays of Oakland and San Francisco. We had to cover all of our windows with heavy, black drapes so that the lights would not be seen off the coast from enemy aircraft if they came to bomb us! My father was an air raid warden that would walk the streets during these blackouts to see if there were any visible lights from the windows. It was such a frightening thing to see him put on his helmet and flack jacket and leave the house. If any light could be seen from your home you were told to put them out or have them shot out! Our central hallway in our house was our “shelter”. We could go into it and have lights that could not be seen from the outside…..I remember we had a bucket of sand and a shovel to put out a fire is need be.

I was 10 years old when the war began. The accrual bombing of Pearl Harbor was early on Sunday morning. I remember vividly feeling the fear and disturbance of “things as usual” but did not understand the magnitude of what had happened. When we went to school Monday morning we were immediately sent home and told not to return until our parents were notified. I still remember the chill of fear I felt when the air raid sirens went off! Being in the location we were, it was not unusual too hear them echoing even from other areas. One evening we watched search lights roaming the skies, I suppose they were looking for “unidentified” aircraft. With the location of the navel bases in the San Francisco Bay there was a lot of activity most of the time.

Our lives went on pretty much as usual, limited by a few wartime restrictions. All the girls, Wanda, Evelyn, Mirial , Belva and myself were taking dance lessons…tap and ballet. Our mothers would car pool to get us to lessons. One evening we were at our teacher’s home practicing for a recital coming up. The sirens went off so of course we had to turn out the lights! There were probably 50 students of various ages there. Candles were lit so it would not be so dark….most of us there were really frightened and crying. I don’t remember what they did to calm us down, but I think we sang and played little games for a while. This same night the fog rolled in so densely that you could not see your hand held up in front of your face. Heavy, dense fog was not a rarity in the bay area, and during that time of blackouts, sirens and underlying fear it somewhat scarred me for life. To this day fog is a very unsettling thing to me! ……anyway! Mother and Aunt Miriam decided we should start walking toward Uncle Ted’s house which was just a short distance away. We did!!! Mother, Aunt Miriam, Aunt Sidna ,Wanda, Evelyn, Me, Belva, Mirial. Trudging, frightened, crying. We thought we heard footsteps..which further frightened us……we did! Uncle Ted had started worrying about us and was out looking for us. We all huddled together and made our way to his house, which offered refuge and safety.

I think back now on the sacrifices that were made by our parents, to give us music lessons, dance lessons, family recitals and the great advantage of feeling so talented with a built in audience ……it was just wonderful.

During this war time nylon was invented. Instead of using silk, which they needed for parachutes, they now used nylon. It was a great breakthrough for the hosiery industry…..and for the vanity of women! Because the main resource for silk was Japan, and because we were now at war with the Japanese Nation. We would go to the hosiery mill, stand in line for hours to get two pair each. I don’t remember if we always used the hosiery we purchased, but we always bought whatever the allotment was. I remember specificly how difficult elastic was to obtain, but mother sewed quite a few of our undergarments and would use buttons to close the waistbands of our underwear.

Victory gardens were a very big deal! But no novelty at our house. My Mother was an avid gardener. She always had a big, beautiful garden. Big enough that she would can bottle after bottle of products from it. Beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, chard, lettuce, corn….you name it, she grew it! Mother was a very ambitious woman. She canned, sewed, gardened and cleaned house. Oh! Did she clean house! We washed walls and woodwork every week. Almost everything we did that was “fun” depended on “getting our work” done. As always, memories either dim or magnify with time….but I’m certain that mine are pretty accurate in this regard!

Many things were rationed during this period; mostly things that would feed or clothe the soldiers. Any material or substance that would help in the war effort was very hard to come by. Also, at this time, I became aware of margarine! Until then, Mother and Daddy usually had a cow, chickens and a very large garden. With the war effort and the many rationings of essentials, things were invented …or contrived to help us feel that life was “normal”. One horrible memory I have is of margarine! Because mother and Daddy usually found a way to have a garden and animals we were very used to raw milk. During the war this was not possible due to essentials that were diverted to the war effort. At this time Mother began to use margarine! I came in a one pound block with a little packet of yellow food coloring. My job was to mix….and mix……and mix these together until it looked like butter. Mother, being the perfectionist she was could not stand to see on tiny fleck of white. We would mix…and mix….and mix until…..at last….we had BUTTER! It, of course, still tasted like margarine, but it was yellow like butter!

Canning was a way of life in our (the extended) family. All the aunts would get together and have an assembly line. One of the girl cousins job was the washing and sterilizing of the jars. It was back breaking! We snapped beans, peeled peaches, pears and apricots, corn and tomatoes. My parents were very frugal…if we could glean a field of fruit or vegetables, we did. How well I remember the itch of peach fuzz! It was work, but being together was always fun and I look back with warmth in my heart. We loved our families and enjoyed any activity which allowed us to be together. Much “encouraging” was done to keep our minds and hands focused on the tasks at hand.

During the war all the men that were in jobs supporting the war effort were “frozen” in their jobs. If they quit they were drafted! Mother’s brother “Ted” (Serres Parron Lee) quit his job and was drafted into the Marines. I remember what a traumatic, sorrowful time it was to all the family. A family as large as ours had been spared the anguish of seeing any of our close relatives serve under hazardous circumstances during war times.

Being young and starry eyed those days were magic for young girls as innocent and pretty as we were. Having taken tap dancing all those years as children made very good “ballroom and jitterbug” dancers….and flirts. We were allowed to go to the Stake dances in downtown Oakland as long as we stayed together as a group…that is going to the dance together and coming home together. One night Merva , (Aunt Elsies’ daughter) met the man of her “dreams” and we let her talk us into her going home with him instead of with us. She was supposed to come immediately home….we would wait outside for her and all go into the house together. Well, she didn’t come straight home and we waited …..and waited, getting more and more certain she had been kidnapped, murdered ….or worse! When she finally showed up we were so relieved we forgot to be mad. BUT……….we never did split up again! !

We had wonderful fun times. That was before the term “extended family” came into use, but ours literally was an “extended” family. Almost everything we did, we did together . One wonderful memory I have is of a camping trip we took in about 1945 or 46. My Dad had broken his foot and he was unable to work for some time. Mother and Daddy decided to take ALL the kids on a camping trip. (all being Wanda, Evelyn, Fred, Mirial, Barbara, Belva Cal and me). The respective parents were to come on the weekend for an especially good time. Mother had planned all the meals for the week and brought the necessary food in ice chests. Roasted hot dogs (over the camp fire) were on the menu for one of the days. When Mother went to get the wieners out to cook over the campfire pit , there weren’t any!! A small hole was in the wrapper. She questioned all the girls and on one knew anything about the meat (about 5 pounds). She just knew we were responsible for the missing meat. We began to accuse each other…then went to the confidant mode encouraging a confession in private. (“you can tell ME if you really took them!) We began to squabble with each other. No one confessed to the taking of the meat!

My Father was a master at using situations and being able to get to the heart of any matter. He was not a fusser or lecturer but had a unique understanding of human nature. He decided to have a trial…”like they used in the Bible days,” he said. He lined us all up in a straight line. He then explained that he was going to throw a rock up in the air and whomever it fell onto was the guilty party! Of course this began to draw a large crowd of onlookers. Here is this man on crutches, with all these children….(11 girls and 2 boys) lined up…ready to feel the wrath of mother justice! One….Two…. Three…and he threw the rock! We all scattered like a hive of bees that had been hit with a stick. At this time Mother realized that all the children were not in line! So they again rounded us up, this time we were ALL there. They had excused the fact that Cal wasn’t there, Mother saying that “of course, he couldn’t be responsible for the five pounds of missing meat! But we all insisted that he had to be in line too!

Daddy tossed the rock high into the air and over our heads of course so we would not get hit. At this point Cal broke out of line and ran around behind us hoping to avoid being hit, but somehow He ran right under that rock! He did indeed turn out to be the guilty one! He had poked a little hole in the package and fed those hot dogs…one by one…to all the dogs in the camp! All of us there of course remembers it a bit differently, but it has been told and retold countless times, always bringing back wonderful memories.

Another camping experience comes to mind. We had gotten into our camp site early. Set up camp, played awhile, eaten our dinner, played some more and had our campfire activities, then went to bed. We were all settled in for the night. A rather sizeable group of adults came in later. They were making an unusual amount of noise for that time of night, i.e. loud talking, raucous laughter. …quite obviously alcohol had been part of their activities during the evening. Uncle Roy went and told them we had a camp full of women and kids and would they be quieter. They persisted in their partying and rowdy behavior until the wee hours of the morning . Daddy and Uncle Roy, with a bit of malice I’m sure…woke all we kids at day break the next morning. They told us we were going to have a baseball game. They placed home plate right in front of the tent of the rowdy campers! We played and screamed and hollered making as much noise as a group of kids could make. Pretty soon, the campers came our and said “Please, we get the message.” I’m sure they had hang-overs, headaches and whatever goes along with a night of drinking and partying. But they would not let us quit! We played until the rowdy campers got up and moved their camp! “More ways to kill a horse, then choking him to death on butter.”

We had many wonderful trips to Clear Lake in Northern California. Four families with kids and much unsophisticated camping gear made for quite a “hillbilly” appearance. Blankets and tarps were used as windbreakers. We slept right on the ground on blankets. No one in the family (that I remember) had tents. The main focus on our camping trips was fishing. We caught hundreds of fish the week or ten days we were there. Our parents were masters of innovation, doing all sorts of things with absolutely no equipment. We would have big boxes submerged in the lake that held the live fish in the water until they were to be fried for dinner each night. Oh! What wonderful fish fries they were!

Mother was the camp cook and she cooked over and open fire with very primitive equipment. Is there anything more wonderful until this day than the smell of food being cooked over an open fire? There is something very nostalgic to me when I smell bacon being cooked over an open fire with fried potatoes, bacon and cantaloupe!

Family memories are so precious! As I write these memories I seem to be living them again as vividly as if they were just now happening in my life.

Each Christmas we would draw names for gift giving throughout the family. It was a guarded secret whose name you got and who got your name. For much of the year we would sneak around and drop hints and listen carefully to find out what that person wanted most. Great fun!! It was also Mirial”s Birthday! (Mirial Arlene Lee, daughter of Barney and Miriam Lee) What a great advantage for her!

She always had a party on New Years Eve (before the family party) when we found out who got our name and what present we received from our secret namesake. The excitement was at a high level, and we looked forward to this party every year. Christmas day too, was an especially exciting day because as soon as we finished opening our gifts and had breadfast we made the rounds of all the family to see what Santa had brought them. Of course, all of we girls were so happy to show off our new babies!

Once in a very great while our parents would leave all the kids home alone while they went out to dinner. (I can’t remember ever having a baby sitter.) Most often we would go with them….This was our opportunity to play our favorite game’ “Who’s Got My Liver?”

The plot: A grandfather had died…, he was buried in a cemetery. A kid was told to go to the market and buy some liver. His mother gave him the money and off he went! He decides that he will spend the money on candy for himself…which he does! On the ways home he starts worrying about the trouble he is going to be in when he returns home without the liver. So on the way home he stops at the cemetery …digs up grandpa and cuts out his liver to take home for dinner!!!!.....

In the middle of the night, ( the lights are all turned off at this point) the kid awakens hearing a spooky voice saying, (over and over) “WHO’S GOT MY LIVER ? The end of the game comes when the dead grandpa catches the one that got his liver. All of this of course, is played out in the dark. IT SCARED US TO DEATH!! A sideline to this is in 1949, at my wedding shower, this is one of the games we played!! Vivian ( Roy’s sister) somehow got under one of the beds in Aunt Sidna and Uncle Roy’s house to hide, it was only about 5 inches off the floor, we had to lift it up to get her out! Now remember…all of us were 17 and 18 years old!

Our holidays were fun filled and exciting. Fortunately our parents were young and full of life…no extra money, but they were creative in the things they did for recreation. We always had firecrackers on the 4^th of July. Each Easter we had a family picnic in the park, our Mothers worked very hard each year creating Easter Bonnets to wear and model.

One of the things I greatly appreciate and admire about my parents, they had a great desire to see their children develop talents and succeed at those things we undertook to do. They offered us music lessons, dance lessons, Mother even saw to it that I took “elocution” lessons. Learning to speak correctly…give “readings” and feel comfortable before people at a fairly early age. I feel much gratitude for those sacrifices that they made.

In 1945 Aunt Sidna and Uncle Roy made a trip to Arkansas and Texas. They invited me to go along and it was a wonderful adventure. Both Aunt Sidna and Uncle Roy had such different personalities from my folks. They were constantly “fussing”. Not arguing necessarily, but Aunt Sidna was a squealer and a “fusser”. We just loved to tease her and get her “going”. She was great fun, a much different personality than my Mother. Mother didn’t laugh easily. If she really thought something was funny, she would make a little “psssss” sound, which was the extent of her laughter.

One experience we had while on that trip to Arkansas was especially frightening. We were driving along the continental divide area in Colorado when the lights on the car went out. It was pitch black…no other cars on the road! Uncle Roy stopped the car as soon as he could, hoping he would not run off into the canyon.

We were on a steep mountain incline, not knowing how close to the edge we were. Aunt Sidna opened the car door and stuck her foot out trying to feel how far from the bank of the road we were. We girls got out of the car hugging close to the car so as not to fall into the canyon. Uncle Roy had us get ou onto the highway and watch for oncoming cars. When we saw cars coming we would start striking matches as fast as we could so they could see us and not run into us. We didn’t even have a flashlight! A fuse had burned and fortunately he had an extra in the glove box! He got things working and we were on our way, but it was a really scary experience.

While we were in Arkansas we visited many of the family members we had never met. Our Grandparents were known as Mama and Papa Loe. Grandma was cutting up chicken for dinner. I was watching Mama Loe and asked her what she was going to do with the guts. Mama Loe said “Why I’m going to feed them to the dogs. What does you mother usually do with them?” With a very wide eyed look I said “my mother usually makes Chicken Gut gravy!!”. Mama Loe soon learned I was the family joker, but she loved telling and retelling that story to everyone …especially when she asked someone to “pass the chicken gut gravy”!

We went on to visit Grandpa Lee’s mother in Gilmer’ Texas. She wasn’t as old as she seemed, I’m sure, but she kept every one on their toes. We girls wore shorts most of the time because it was so hot and humid….but they certainly weren’t “short shorts”. Every time we would get close to her she would whack us with her hickory cane and say “ go get you some clothes on”. We learned to stay out of the cane’s reach. What a fun memories !