Below is my Dad's Story. I'm so grateful that he wrote it down!

My Marriage to Pat

Pat and I were married November 27, 1954. Up until we were married we were like brother and sister. If I had nothing to do I would call her and ask if she wanted to do something, and sometimes she had nothing to do as well, so we did something. It wasn’t really a date, it was more of an outing. We actually loved each other at that time but we didn’t think of it as anything except close friends. We could fool each other but we couldn’t fool her boyfriend or my girlfriend and they were both insanely jealous of our relationship. Finally, I woke up to the fact that I didn’t want to live without her and I proposed by saying, “Let’s go to Iowa and get married.” This was while we were walking across Selby Avenue in the St. Paul slush. She must have had similar feelings because she thought that it was a good idea. We picked up Diane and Jiggs Peltier, who had been married about 2 weeks, as witnesses and away to Charles City Iowa we went.

Pat was the perfect wife for me from the day we were married until, “death do us part.” You can’t get a marriage any better than the one that we had and we both knew it.  Neither one of us was the classic spouse but love made us a harmonious pair.

Our early marriage was very trying primarily because we had no money. I worked for K&N Machine Works making $60 per week. Pat was living in a tiny second story apartment that belonged to the Blomquist Real Estate Company. When our friends Fran and John offered us a free tiny house on their property we took it for 2 reasons, 1.) We had no money and 2.) We wanted to get away from the people who didn’t think well of our marriage. The house was unbelievably bad. The toilet was next door (150 feet away) and the heat would quit on the coldest nights. Remember, this was Minnesota during the winter. Pat was working for a small real estate company downtown and I became a salesman for them. The income was sporadic at best but we were getting by. As soon as we had enough money to pay rent we moved to a White Bear motel and then  found an apartment in the basement of the Cozy Cove Motel, near Lake Elmo. We were eating well, warm, and had a bathroom down the hall. The motel manager and his wife loved to play nickel dime poker and they were such bad players we could afford to play often. In fact poker winnings helped with the rent. Ted was born that fall so we had 3 children and our apartment consisted of 3 motel rooms on a hallway. We decided to find a more private abode but money was still an issue. I found a job running a punch press on the midnight shift at Seeger’s, a St Paul refrigerator factory, with steady income at $98 a week. We moved to 707 Lawson, a second floor duplex several houses from Payne Avenue. About that same time the Superintendent of Schools from Stillwater called and said that he needed an industrial arts teacher for several months while his regular teacher recovered from back surgery. I had been recommended by my department at the University of Minnesota. This was a dream come true, teaching school with good pay with no certificate. Several months turned into six months. Two full time jobs were hard on me but it sure helped the money issues.

I don’t remember exactly when, but I went back to school so I could get a teaching certificate. I had my teaching experience in Stillwater and a marvelous recommendation from the superintendent and requested that I be given credit for the practice teaching requirement. They said that my experience could not be recognized because I had been paid for it. So I started practice teaching at Cleveland Junior High school. It was a sick school in a sick system and after completing the requirement I decided not to become a teacher.

Our house on LaBore Road came up for sale and we wanted it. We had some of the down payment but needed a second mortgage. My parents came up with the money for the second and we bought it. I was still working the midnight shift at Seeger's and one morning I was restless so I sat down at the kitchen table to read the paper. UNIVAC had an ad for just about any type of technical help. So I drove out to UNIVAC and they hired me as a mechanical technician. I spent most of my time working in a model shop building analog computers and parts and pieces for other experimental items. I loved the job but I needed more money. After about 2 years I applied for a job in Field Service. My first assignment was in Norfolk VA installing a vacuum tube type of computer. My job was assembling the cooling plenum and grouting the base with concrete. I guess that I was paying my dues. After 3 weeks I was called back to St. Paul to go to NTDS Computer School. I was 2 weeks late for the school and completely snowed so I went to the St Paul Library every night to study. It didn’t take long to catch up to my class mates and pass them. After 6 weeks of a 13 week school my boss Tom Robinson called me to his office to ask me to go to San Diego.

Pat wanted to go to San Diego so bad she had been packing for months. Half of our belongings were in boxes on the front porch ready for shipping. I had joined Field Service in hopes of getting transferred to San Diego and now it was happening. All of you have heard this story many times but I have to tell it. Tom Robinson said that they needed someone in San Diego and what would I think of a West Coast Assignment. I said that it would be fine. He further explained that he wanted me to leave tomorrow. I said that would be fine. He said that my family could follow me out there in about a month. I said that would be fine. He then sent me out to Mary Jane, his department secretary, to cut the paperwork. Mary Jane said that she had heard me in there and wasn’t doing anything until I called my wife. I called Pat and explained things in a very mater of fact tone but didn’t tell Mary Jane that Pat was so happy she was crying. That move was the start of a fantastic career.

 After we moved to San Diego in 1959 we learned that we both needed personal space. I was working 80 or 90 hours a week and loving every minute of my new found computer career and after I suggested that she get a life. She immediately started her education that she had missed. I had my life and she had hers. We met at the family and worked together to build as good a life as we could for all of us.

Pat and I were opposites in many ways. In a few words she was artistic and I was mechanical. She tended to be serious about every thing except money and I was relaxed about most things except money. I was a morning person and she didn’t get going until late morning. She was a great student and I wasn’t. When she started her education and showed her tremendous intellectual ability, my thought was that the wrong one of us had been going to school. Our abilities and interests were so different from one another we didn’t compete, except when playing pinochle. We shared a family and a home and built on one another’s strengths and ignored one another’s differences. I guess that’s a part of a strong loving relationship.

George and Honey moved to San Diego from Minnesota and moved in with us. Pat was pregnant with Gail and as usual Honey was a god send on managing the family and the house. Our lease was about up and we bought the house on Cardinal Drive. George and Honey rented a house in North Park and were on their own. We had moved June 1, 1960 and Gail was born July 14. To say the least we were busy people and I was still working long hours. Fortunately, we could afford a house keeper to help Pat keep up and that fall Pat became a more or less full time student at San Diego State. Bird Land as we called it was a wonderful neighborhood for kids to grow up. It was fairly isolated and safe, had a good neighborhood school, and people interested in their community. We all grew and prospered enjoying the “60s” as time flew by.

Even in those days Pat loved to plant things and always did things correctly in good soil. When we started working on the back yard there was no way anything would grow in the soil that was there so Pat asked me to go get as many bales of peat moss as I could get in the car. The garden store was next door to a swimming pool contractor so I thought I would look at a few designs. I knew that the family would love to have a pool so I bought a pool instead of the peat moss. I hated the pool maintenance but it provided many hours of fun for our family and our friends. We all loved it!

In 1966 I was still working for UNIVAC, or whatever they were calling it (many name changes), and loved my work as a Systems Engineer. However, we were working Navy contracts with the contract winner being the one with the lowest price. That meant the glory days of big salary raises were gone so I started to look for a new job. I went to work for Control Data, La Jolla Division which designed and built industrial process control systems.

He only got to 1966, but these were the early years before most of us remember the events. From here, the family moved to Palos Verdes, and then Mississippi, Northern VA and MD, and then back to MS! They were married for 58 years before my mom passed away in 2012.

Ben

It is still unbelievable that my nephew Ben passed away at the age of 39. As I listened to the many stories at his celebration of life, I started to think of the lessons that I learned from Ben. I heard what made him special to so many people. Someone said that Ben's currency was people. And another person said that they will often think WWBD (What Would Ben Do) when faced with uncertain situations. Joel said that Ben could have been a saint...if there was such a thing as partying non-Catholic saints! I've compiled a list, to touch on the lessons I can learn from his life so well lived. 

    

• Make your currency people. Value people, all people. It seems simple, but somehow it's not.

• Show up. Someone told a story of not having seen Ben in a year or two and had moved a few hours away. They invited Ben to their baby shower-never imagining that he would attend. Ben showed up. He was there for you, and your parties, and your sorrows.

• Be All In. I can't tell many of the All In stories, but Ben was all in...for good or bad! Ben went to an audition when he was probably 9. He learned on the way there that he was supposed to have a monologue. His cousins tried to teach him their monologue in the car. Without a worry, he went in to perform it strongly and confidently while making most of it up. The audition panel was highly entertained, and that is how Ben got the role of Tiny Tim in Ford's Theater's Christmas Carol in Washington D.C.

• Travel. I don't remember the number, but I think that Ben traveled to over 35 different countries. He was always traveling, in groups or with an individual, but always traveling with friends. He had a true world view, and love of learning about this world. A story was told about his planned trip to Egypt with a friend when there was great instability in Egypt and serious travel warnings. They did not want to cancel their trip. The friend said that she would blend in, which was probably true. Ben said that he would blend in, too. They finally cancelled the trip. 

• You can't have too many best friends. Ben had a LOT of best friends, and they really were best friends. Someone said that Ben introduced them at a party as his best friend...and then he heard Ben introducing someone else as his best friend. When he asked Ben about it, Ben easily explained that he was his best friend who...(make something up...like he watches football with), and the other person was his best friend who...(and some other reason...like he met when he first moved there). Make your friends your family, and your family your friends.

• Share the Love! Show your love. Be the person that greets everyone with all the love in your heart. Be the hugger.  Ask anyone about a greeting from Ben. Thank goodness it is strong in my heart and memory, because I will miss this so very much. 

• Work for the Good. Ben cared about justice and doing the right thing toward others. He was willing to speak out and work for it. Be bold when it is for good. He was a good lawyer with a big heart. Believe it or not, they exist!

When something happened to Ben that might seem horrible to some, it ended up as a great story. We can keep telling these stories that exemplify looking at life as an adventure, full of humor and friends, sunshine and love.

These blue shirts say, "I'm Ben's best friend."

This is written with so much love for Ted and Bryan, Cindy and Conner, and all the family and friends, friends who were family, and everyone else whose lives Ben touched.

 

Going to School in MS: How much have we changed?

It is now 35 years since I attended college in MS, but I am compelled to write about what I saw while in school there. It does seem like a long time ago, but the people with highly racist views in the events are mostly my age. They are people who are voting and still sharing their ideas with others. I have lofty hopes that their beliefs have evolved for the better and they have grown over the years, like I feel I have. I want my kids to know what I saw toward others as a sheltered white female and to know that this is just a tiny piece of the big picture. I was not witness to the violence, but it was there. I know that racism exists across the United States and that it is also systemic; I just happened to see it plainly and clearly in MS.

Going to School in Mississippi


I moved from Palos Verdes, California to Ocean Springs, Mississippi in 1972 as I was entering 1st grade. Ocean Springs public schools were integrated in 1968, but I was in Jackson County and those schools were not integrated until 1971. Previously, black people attended the “Colored Schools” or the“Negro Schools.” In Ocean Springs, The Negro School was built in 1952 and they were still remodeling the building as late as 1958. Brown v. Board of Education ruled in 1954 that racial segregation in public schools was unconstitutional, but MS was slow to make changes. MS maintained total segregation of schools for 10 years after Brown v. Board of Education until Lyndon Johnson signed The Civil Rights Act of 1964 that denied federal funds to segregated schools. It is interesting to me that in 1962 Ocean Springs was one of three counties of 151 in the state of MS that was spending more or equal money on students who were black in their effort to create separate but equal schools. The average school district spent $4 on white students for every $1 on black students. In the spring of 1970, Ocean Springs and Jackson County were listed as two of six counties in the state of MS that were showing efforts toward school desegregation. According to records, I was moving into one of the more progressive areas.

My neighborhood, Gulf Hills, was entirely white. There were a few students who were black in my elementary school. When I look back at my 3rd grade yearbook, nine of 160 3rd grade students were black. I think today of how these students and their parents must have felt in the 1970s MS climate where people were still angry at the desegregation. At school, we stood and sang I Wish I Was in Dixie, which was a bit like the national anthem of the Confederacy. In 1st grade, I asked two girls that I liked (whose names I’m not using) who were black to play and they told me that we weren’t allowed to play because they were colored. I was confused, but accepted this. In 2nd grade, I asked one of those same girls why she called herself colored and she told me it was because she was black and I accepted that. In 3rd grade, the other one of these girls became my biggest competitor in my personal competition to be the best writer in the class. Our work went up on the walls with great remarks. I was so proud as I bet all were with their star work. This was also my favorite teacher ever, Mary Anderson Stebly, who inspired me in so many ways. Looking back, I realize that Mrs. Stebly was finding something special in every single one of her students in order to inspire us. My writing mechanics were great for a 3rd grader; the other girl’s content was spectacular. I still remember reading her writing and wondering where she got her ideas and how she made it so interesting. I wonder how many teachers were as loving and lifting up all students at that time and place, regardless of color, as Mrs. Stebly was. Other than these instances, I just remember being fairly separate in elementary school. I remember hearing the “N” word regularly, always disparagingly, at school and knowing from my parents that it was wrong and that I should never say it. I knew not to be friends with people who said that word, and I would speak up against it when it was said - but only if I was feeling brave.

I remember driving by the burning cross that I could see out on Deer Island. I mentioned it to my parents and how pretty it looked. I never understood their absolute silence. I kept talking about it and how unusual it was and I wondered what was happening...all to their silence. I think now of the murder, hate, and evil that the Ku Klux Klan was spreading and there I was thinking it was pretty. There are no words, only tears. We know now that we would not be silent with our kids in this situation and we would have age appropriate conversations. These are the times to have conversations about white supremacists, race, discrimination, but I believe that my parents thought I was too young. The United Dixie White Knights, a MS branch of the Ku Klux Klan, is still active.

Inside our house was different from school. My brother was on the football team and had true friends who were black and white who came to the house. My parents did too, and were caring toward all people, but we didn’t talk about race. We moved to Mclean, VA in 1978, and things were different. As a white female, I didn’t see the overt racism that I saw in MS, although I know it existed. I was able to get a better multicultural education in the DC Metropolitan area and gain a better understanding of equality and justice. When I graduated from high school, I got a large scholarship from Millsaps College in Jackson, MS, where my brother graduated. It was a nicely rated school at the time and one of the many schools calling themselves the “Harvard of the South.” I had fond memories of playing in the woods and of my friends in MS, so I decided to go to school there in the fall of 1984. Now that I’ve been through the college selection process with my daughter, I realize that my process lacked a bit of depth.

Millsaps College admitted its first black student in 1965 and was the first private MS college to desegregate. They were progressive for MS. When I arrived on campus, the very first thing my new roommate said to me after hello was, “I’m so glad you aren’t black.” She went on and on after that but I don’t remember much as I was shocked and horrified. Thankfully, I was able to get a new assignment by November, but that was only due to other actions of hers, otherwise the school was going to make me stay with her until the end of the school year. I learned that most black females lived on one floor of one dorm. There were sororities and fraternities, but I don’t think that there were any people who were black in them. There was a separate black fraternity. I went out on a couple of dates with a guy who was black and was warned by many people that I shouldn’t go out with him, that I should be careful, that I shouldn’t be seen talking so much alone with him. I ignored them. I heard derogatory remarks regularly about people of color. It was painful for me to see and hear, so I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end of those remarks. 

My parents moved back to MS while I was at Millsaps. During this time, around 1985, a family that was black moved into the Gulf Hills neighborhood. Someone walked around with a petition to keep them out or convince them to move. My mother expressed her disgust for the petition, and then welcomed the family with a basket of food and gifts. Can you imagine being greeted in the neighborhood with that petition in 1985? My father believes that this family included a black female Colonel in the United States Air Force who eventually became a Major General. Think of her accomplishments and her fight.

I left MS in January of 1986 to join Up With People. This was an eye opening international experience. I had no desire to return to Millsaps after the year. I met some truly wonderful people at Millsaps and learned so much in the theater department, but I couldn’t return to the small community that made me think of closed minds and racism. I now wish that I was the sort of 20 year old who would have stayed and helped to create change. I should have been an activist or at least spoken up publicly. Imagine the possibilities - I simply left.

Looking back and reflecting upon what I could have and should have done helps me to know what I need to do now. I am reflecting and will continue to listen and learn. I will no longer stay silent for fear or someone else’s comfort. This is easier said than done, but I am trying.

Sources:

https://books.google.com/books?id=iNRBRTSXGSYC&pg=PA94&lpg=PA94&dq=ocean+springs+ms+schools+desegregation&source=bl&ots=a9_JxMO-_S&sig=ACfU3U1XpwgvlwK69BRuLXJ3o3XoM_tQpA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjb4N-g4O3pAhUIZKwKHQbjD7wQ6AEwBnoECAcQAQ#v=onepage&q=ocean%20springs%20ms%20schools%20desegregation&f=false

https://books.google.com/books?id=O2kJAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA1167&lpg=PA1167&dq=ocean+springs+ms+schools+desegregation&source=bl&ots=t_q85Slg7G&sig=ACfU3U3rshrbrkV7EWGPC3X8lyjXaSMjsQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjb4N-g4O3pAhUIZKwKHQbjD7wQ6AEwB3oECAgQAQ#v=onepage&q=ocean%20springs%20ms%20schools%20desegregation&f=false

https://oceanspringsarchives.net/early-black-education

https://mississippiencyclopedia.org/entries/desegregation-of-private-colleges/

https://www.wxxv25.com/2018/03/28/ku-klux-klan-video-mississippi-response/

Thanksgiving with Mom

My mother did holidays like no one else I’ve ever encountered. She went beyond what most people would consider reasonable, and it made for magical experiences. My father, up at 3am, still wrapping presents on Christmas Eve after the partying might not call it all magical, but the special holiday memories are with us all. When the grandchildren came along, the holidays just got bigger.

In November 2012, my mother had been fighting pancreatic cancer for two years and received the news that no more treatment could be done. She was in Houston with my brother and his wife where she was being treated and it was time to go back home to MS. My dad was going to drive her, but she was very weak, could not walk without assistance, and had oxygen. My dad also does not walk well, and the eight hour trip was going to be difficult, so I offered to fly in from CA to drive with them.

I arrived in Houston four days before Thanksgiving. By the time we left the next morning for MS, my brother and his son decided that they would then come to MS in a couple of days to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. My dad said that we would go to the local grocery store where they cook the whole meal for you and just pick up a pre-cooked meal. This all sounded very unlike any Thanksgiving that we had ever had, but good to me with the weary and sad group that we were.

Safe and sound back home in MS, my mom settled into the chair in the family room that she would remain in until she passed away. Then she started handing out jobs. My niece and nephew would make appetizers, my dad would make his traditional turkey and stuffing, and my sister and I would make sides and pies. She had us check her overstuffed pantry and 3 refrigerators for items that we already had and made this list to purchase. I told her that we already had 6 lbs. of butter, but she said that we needed more. Below is most of the first page of the list. I only remember, because I took a picture of it. There was more on the bottom and back.

Baking-

Dark Karo syrup
Sugar
Dark brown sugar
Rollout pie crusts NOT in TINS
 

Produce-

Apples-Granny Smith, Gala
Large bag russet potatoes
Large bag onions
Celery hearts
Mushrooms
Bag mixed vegetables
Sweet potatoes
Bag of Vidalia onions
Fruit salad stuff

Eggs

Milk products-

Refrigerated creamer Ted- Vanilla
2 quarts, ½ and ½
3 quarts whipping cream
Velveeta (for queso)
Butter
Gruyere cheese large piece
Blue cheese good kind out of specialty case
Large chunk of Swiss cheese
Pack of 8 oz cream cheese

Meat-

Sausage
Turkey Butterball-fresh if possible
Bacon
Little frozen meatballs

Grocery-

V-8 juice
Chicken Broth

We called hospice and they offered to come in immediately, but she told everyone that we needed to have Thanksgiving first. So, we went shopping and started cooking. She sat in her chair and wrote recipes, or told us where to find the recipes. When we were cooking, she called us over occasionally to make sure we remembered important details or we ran over to her to check where certain dishes or ingredients were and that we were doing things correctly. As long as my mother was alive, she was going to make sure that this was up to her holiday standards. We made 5 pumpkin pies (the recipe makes 2 1/2, but that is never enough, so we always double it!), apple pies, pecan pie, sweet potatoes, and prepped other items the night before.

On Thanksgiving Day, we all worked together to create an incredible  and huge meal starting with appetizers of artichoke dip, queso, Vidalia onion dip, blue cheese, mini meatballs in barbeque sauce, veggies, baguettes, and other dippers. Around 4:00, ten of us, including my mother, sat down to our traditional Thanksgiving meal of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes (forgotten in the oven, but made it to the table at the end), creamed onions, asparagus casserole, fruit salad, and rolls. My father and mother said grace. We were so very thankful to be together for what we knew was her final Thanksgiving. We were all surrounded by people we loved and who loved us dearly.

For dessert and many meals after, we had pie, lots of pie.  There was almost a pie per person. Three weeks later, she passed away. I often think of that meal that was supposed to be purchased ready to eat from the store, but turned into a two day cooking adventure involving anyone around who was willing to help.  This was life with my mom. She always wanted the best for everyone around her, told us all what we needed to do (whether we wanted to hear it or not), produced a surplus of everything, and created memorable experiences filled with family and love.

Happy 2014

I haven't blogged in years, but thought I'd update with a picture. We are all older, wiser, and remain overly dramatic.

 

 

This may be a rotten picture, but you see, I lost my camera two years ago and never replaced it. Now I just use my cell phone which takes bad pictures and I can't really see the screen. This is the sort of mom I've become. We remain very busy and learn everyday, but I no longer take the time to document it. I hope everyone's memories are decent. I know mine isn't, but I can make out the vague cell phone pictures to remind me. I can't post the funny things the kids do anymore because they are growing up and think I already embarrass them enough just by being me. I did get rid of a jacket I was wearing the other day when one of them asked if I was wearing a costume, and later the other asked if it was from the 80's. That is all.

End of the School Year!

Lydia's 3rd grade class has had a whirlwind of events. As things are still a bit crazy with me finishing up in my classroom and the kids in their last week of school, I'm just going to post some photos.

Battle of the Books winners:

Read Across America winners. Lydia is in the middle

Project Recycle Runway:

I also had the end of the year Drama Production that we put on at my school. It is a lot of work, but the kids and parents love it, so it is well worth it. Ryan is well, but I haven't been able to take pictures of his most recent school events, which have been mostly field trips. So, sorry, no pictures of Ryan this time. He is a slugger in baseball. Catching...not so much his thing, yet.

Queen of the Laundry

My mother is queen of many things, but if I had to pick one household thing, this would be it. Here is my mother in her kingdom, or queendom as it may be. Look at this, she even looks like she enjoys it. If you want your clothes to look good, even 15 years later when they are out of style, then my mom is the laundress for you. Everything neat and the same color and size as when you bought it. I do not have the patience to do laundry as well as my mother. I would say I don't have the time, but even when she was much busier than I am, she was still the queen of laundry. I currently have about as many clothes ready to wash as my mom has in this picture. I'll try to force a smile on my face that matches hers and attempt to be princess.