Monday, January 20, 2025

Children in the Closet - Chapter Two

 

CHAPTER TWO

               We continued living on our side of the house while Granny and Granddad claimed the three rooms of the original house for their side. Mother slept days and worked nights as a switchboard operator. Granny grudgingly watched my sister and me for those hours when Mother was sleeping but she was quick to turn us over to Daddy the moment he got home from work.

               Though we lived in separate sides of the house, we all ate our meals together in the dining room. At least we did when Mother was home to do the cooking. The nights she went to work early, Daddy fixed simple suppers of soup and sandwiches for us and Granny and Granddad ate by themselves. Once again, Granny made it known that she did not like Daddy.

               Granny never showed any special kindness to me that I can remember. Perhaps she simply didn’t like children. Any special treats in the house were hers and she didn’t share, at least not with me. I would look yearningly at the small glass bottles of Coca Cola in the refrigerator. Granny would sniff and say that they were her medicine and not for children. By the time Lloydine was old enough to walk, Daddy started keeping out enough money from his paycheck to buy a bag of candy for us every payday. He rode the bus to work and it would drop him off at the corner right by the little grocery store next to Smity’s Barber Shop where Granddad worked. He would buy a small white paper bag of Brachs Jelly Nougats. I would take my piece of candy, unwrap it and admire the creamy white square of nougat and how pretty it looked with the colored jelly pieces pressed into it. Lloydine and I would eat our one piece of candy very carefully and very slowly, making it last as long as possible. As we got a little older, Granny would turn us out in the back yard after our naps and lock the screen door behind us. We were still outside one day when Daddy got home from work. Since it was payday, he was carrying that familiar white sack with the candies in it. As he unlocked the screen door, Lloydine and I came flying up to greet him and get a piece of candy. Granny thought this was a waste of good money and she would sniff her displeasure and turn her head away. I wonder if she was really wanting a piece of that candy herself? Most likely Daddy shared even if she didn’t.

               In the early fall of 1952, Mother and Daddy, Lloydine and I took the train and moved back to Kansas City. I guess the tension had built up with Granny and Granddad until it was unbearable. Lloydine and I were thrilled!!! We both still remember the train ride and how exciting it was! We had fun looking out of the windows and watching the scenery as the train sped down the rails. Our favorite thing on the train was the water fountain. It held a stack of small white paper cone cups that you pulled out from the bottom of the dispenser one at a time. We couldn’t reach them by ourselves but Daddy would hold us up and let us get our own. We drank a lot of water on that train trip!

               At first we lived with Daddy’s parents in their apartment. Lloyd’s parents were Walter Rush Ewing and Edna Vern Lyon. We called them Grandma and PoPo. After a week or so we moved into our own apartment a few floors below theirs. The apartment building resembled a huge white birdcage to my sister and me. The stairs were on the outside of the building running up and down and around. They were encased with a white lattice and wire screen and we had so much fun running up and down the staircases from our apartment to our grandparents. One day we accidently stopped at what we thought to be Grandma’s door but we were on the wrong floor. A strange lady opened the door and we were so surprised it wasn’t Grandma! She was a nice lady and we ended up playing this “wrong floor” game over and over. Our shenanigans never seemed to irritate her and she would laugh with us every single time we knocked on her door.

               I don’t remember there being as much tension in Kansas City as there had been when we lived in Fort Worth, but it was still there nonetheless. We had not even lived in Kansas City even a year before we were boarding another train and heading back to Texas. I guess we had worn out our welcome in Kansas City, too. Or it may have been that Mother was expecting another baby soon. We left without a lot of hugs and kisses and smiles. Actually, we left without any. I think they were glad to see us go. Grandma Ewing didn’t like Mother any more than Granny Whitfield liked Daddy.

               The train car we boarded was different from the one we had ridden before. This time the water fountain with the little white paper cone cups was attached at a lower level that we could reach ourselves and we were having fun filling our cups, drinking and then refilling them! This didn’t last very long until a conductor came and directed us to another car. Apparently we had boarded the wrong one. It made for a wonderful memory my sister and I share to this very day! I still love the sound of a train.

This was the last trip we made to Kansas City.

               We moved into a very small, shabby frame house on Barber Road in Fort Worth, which was just around the corner from Granny and Granddad’s house.  We were living on our own as a family for a little while at least.

The neighborhood boys had made some homemade stilts using 2 X 4 pieces of lumber. They nailed a smaller piece of wood to the inside of each long board to put their feet on, and tied them to their legs with rope to hold them in place. They looked pretty scary walking around on them and Lloydine was absolutely terrified and refused to go outside and play when they were out there. We loved playing outside and had both a front yard as well as a back yard to play in. While we didn’t have any toys, we did have our imaginations. One afternoon Lloydine discovered an ant hill so she sat down in the dirt beside it and started playing with the ants. The little critters wouldn’t stay where she put them and they started crawling up her arm and eventually began to sting her. She yelled out, “Darn ants!” Mother came out to see what was happening and told her darn was a bad word and never to be said by good little girls.

               The radio was inexpensive entertainment and, in the evenings, we would sit around the kitchen table listening to shows like The Six Shooter with Jimmy Stewart. We listened to Amos ‘n’ Andy, The Lone Ranger, The Roy Rogers Show and Hopalong Cassidy and Fibber McGee and Molly! One of my favorites was Melody Ranch with Gene Autry. It would be hard to choose between Gene Autry and Roy Rogers! I loved them both!  We also listened to musical radio shows like Dinah Shore and Rosemary Clooney. Life was simple then.

               Even as children, we knew we were poor. Our main food staple was potted meat sandwiches.

What is potted meat?

 

“In the Industrial Age, when mass production of food took over, the process for potted (or canned, as it became) meat changed. These days, a whole bunch of “meat junk” is thrown together, regardless of the animal, mashed up into a paste, and sealed in a can."

        Mother mixed the potted meat with the cheapest mayonnaise she could buy and if we had a little extra money, she would chop up an onion and add to it. On the rare occasions we had a little more money, she would add a chopped boiled egg. But we mostly ate them with just the mayo. It was the same thing with peanut butter. Mother will make it go further by adding Karo white corn syrup to it and would put it on crackers. For special treats she would sprinkle a tiny bit of sugar on top.

           Our sister, Lanita, was born in November of 1953 while we still lived on Barber Road. It was in the spring of 1954 when she was a crawling baby that she somehow managed to get a wire coat hanger stuck in her eye. Mother was hysterical and grabbed her up and ran to Granny’s house, which thankfully was not that far away. Mother didn’t notice the coat hanger had slipped out of her eye as she ran with the baby in her arms. She was so surprised but thankful and relieved when she showed her to Granny. Lanita’s eye was just fine and no complication ever came from the incident.

               Mother had always had a problem with her teeth and after Lanita was born, she had all of them pulled. Since there was no money for a set of false teeth, she went to Sunday School and church “without a tooth in my head” as she would say. Finally, she and Daddy managed to save up enough money to buy her some new teeth. As children, we never even noticed.

               The water heater in the house resided in the bathroom right next to the toilet. I was six years old and just beginning to feel the stirrings of the Holy Spirit in my heart. I was learning about how God sent His only son, Jesus, to suffer and die for our sins and how we needed to ask Him to forgive us and trust him with our whole heart. I was taught Satan is real and a powerful evil being. When I would get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, that old water heater’s pilot light remained lit and it would sometimes flare up with a rush of flames and scare me. I believed Satan lived in that water heater. I did believe in God but had not accepted Christ as my personal Savior yet – so just to hedge my bets, I thought up in my mind that if in the end Satan was really stronger, I could tell him I remembered him living in the water heater!

               By late fall of 1954 we were back living with Granny and Granddad. They may not have wanted us, but it is to their credit that they did take us in time after time. And , as before,  Mother was pregnant again.

           Our baby brother was born on January 29th, 1955 and we were all thrilled. Daddy finally had his son! Everyone fussed over him! My sisters and I took turns holding him and Mother let me give him his bottle. We loved having Mother at home with us and I suppose this was the happiest period of time for us children.

               Daddy worked and Mother brought in extra money by babysitting. Daddy’s brother, Gene, lived in Kansas City. His girlfriend had two children and for whatever reason, she had moved them back to Texas. Mother took them in for several months while she went back to Missouri to tie up some loose ends.  Her children’s names were Debbie and Mike were their names, and they fit right in with us. That made six children for Mother to take care of.  Lonnie was the youngest. Lanita was just 18 months old, Debbie was two, Lloydine was three, and Mikey was five. I was the oldest at six. In addition to looking after all six of us, Mother also did all the cooking and cleaning, too.  Being a child, I was not aware of what a load that must have been for Mother to bear along with the ever-present stress of living with Granny and Granddad. All I remember is how much fun we all had playing together and the joys of a happy family life.

               Mother loved her nieces and in July of 1955, she gave her niece, Joyce, a bridal shower. She made party favors using tiny plastic umbrellas turned upside down and filled with small party mints.

               While the back yard was usually our domain, in July of 1955, Mother used it to give her niece, Joyce, a wedding shower. It was so odd to us to see everyone out there and all dressed up.

After Joyce married Clarence, they lived in the same little house on Barber Road that we had lived in just the summer before.

              

By fall of 1955, I began school. In order to register, I had to have my birth certificate and get my ‘shots.’ Mother couldn’t find it so she sent off for a certified copy of my birth certificate which I still have. I remember going to the Public Health Service on University Drive in Fort Worth. In fact, we all went that day, Mother and six children. It was a sweltering hot and we had to wait for hours in a long line. It took all afternoon and by the time we were done, all of us were whining and fussing. We would come back to this same place in 1957 so Lloydine could get her shots. We never went to a regular doctor’s office in all the years we were growing up.

Since my birthday is September 24th and you had to be six years old by September 1st, I was a bit older than my other classmates.  My teacher was named Mrs. Woods and I loved her. Don’t all children love their first grade teachers? I enjoyed school and the new adventure of learning how to read and write. I already had a love for words even though I couldn’t read when I started school. I loved the Dick and Jane books and the stories about Spot chasing a ball and Dick and Jane each receiving a cookie. Jane wore a pretty little dress and had blond hair.

               I brought home a supply list one day and two of the items were blunt scissors and a box of the large Crayolas with a flat side so they wouldn’t roll off the desk. I was long past due with getting the supplies and when Mother finally got around to buying them, she bought sharp scissors and the wrong Crayolas. I was devastated and didn’t know how in the world I was going to face my teacher with the wrong things! Thankfully, Mrs. Woods was very kind to me and didn’t draw any attention to the mistakes. I later felt so guilty for telling Mother she didn’t buy the right supplies. I tried to tell her how sorry I was but she didn’t seem to be paying any attention to what I was saying.

               In the mornings Mother was up before anyone else making breakfast. The milk was delivered in glass bottles and when you opened it, cream filled the top of the neck and the grownups would put that in their coffee.  Granddad and I would eat breakfast together on school mornings. The other kids were still asleep and Daddy went to work very early in the morning.  One morning I was the first one up, got dressed and went to the kitchen to eat breakfast.  No one was in there. Mother must have over slept so I very quietly took a grapefruit from the bag and cut it in half. I didn’t manage to cut it evenly so one half was a good bit bigger than the other. I decided to eat the small one first and then I would eat the big one. I had just sat down when Granddad came in. He fixed his coffee and then, noticing the other half of the grapefruit sitting on the counter, asked if he could have it. I said, “Yes, sir.” But I thought to myself, “Next time I will eat the big half first!”

For my seventh birthday that year I was allowed to walk over to the little store, and buy a package of paper dolls. It was so exciting! I took Lloydine with me so she could help me pick them out since we were going to be playing with them together. We decided on a packet of Betsy McCall Paper Dolls for ten cents.  The sharp scissors Mrs. Woods had sent back home with me came in handy to cut them out and it was a tedious job! It took hours just to cut out enough figures and clothing changes for us to play with together. I had second thoughts about buying them and vowed to get something different the next birthday. We didn’t have birthday cakes or birthday dinners when we were growing up. Just a dime or two to spend at the store for something special.

While I loved learning to read, the book I loved most of all was the Bible. Mother had a big family Bible and allowed me to look at it. In the back of the Bible, there are blue tinted pages with children’s stories and illustrations. I longed to know what they said. When I learned new words at school, I would come home and see if I could find the same words in the Bible. I treasured that Bible and still have it today. It survived the big Fort Worth flood of 1949, the house fire of 1950 and my own home fire in 1983. It is battered and torn now but remains one of my most treasured possessions.

Later that fall, one of Granny’s favorite cousins became seriously ill. I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my cereal while the grownups were discussing his condition. I looked up at them and said, “If you would all pray more and talk less, he might get well.” Even as a young child, I knew the mighty power of prayer.

As Thanksgiving approached, Mikey and Debbie’s mother came back for them. While we all missed them, I’m sure Mother must have been relieved to have only four children to take care of instead of six.

                A few weeks before Christmas of 1955, we woke up to the fragrant smell of a Douglas Fir Christmas Tree standing in our living room.  Daddy had brought it in and set it up after we had gone to sleep. We helped to decorate it by hanging crinkly foil icicles on the lower branches and then throwing the rest as high as we could throw them. That Christmas Eve, Mother gathered us into the living room and we watched A Christmas Carol on TV. We were all dressed up in pretty dresses and kept our ears open to any sound that could possibly be Santa’s reindeer on the roof.

                Christmas morning, we all piled in the car and went to Uncle Truman and Aunt Alice’s house. Uncle Truman was mother’s only brother and that’s just what she and her sister called him – “Brother.”

It was a long drive and I recall looking at the passing country side from the window of the back seat and wondering how long it would take us to get there! Finally, we arrived, spilled out of the car and swarmed into the house. Aunt Alice always made three kinds of candy and I loved them all. The candy filled platters sat on a little round table of their own and rightfully so – it was so special and so good! The first platter was full of fluffy little clouds of divinity! They were pure white and with a curl on the top and looked so elegant! The second dish was full of chocolate fudge, all cut up into neat little squares. On the third plate were slices of date nut loaf candy. That was my favorite! That particular year, we arrived in time for me to watch Aunt Alice unroll the tea towel she had wrapped the candy in and cut it into thin sweet slices. These were special treats reserved only for Christmas. It’s a treasured memory I continue to hold close to my heart every December when I prepare the very same recipe my dear Aunt Alice used to make.              

               While I remember the candy in every tiny detail, I do not remember the Christmas dinner I am sure we had! I do recall all us children, including our older cousins, gathering in one of the bedrooms that afternoon. We spent hours perched on the bed, happily playing with our Christmas gifts of books, puzzles, crayons, coloring books and paper dolls.

               It was dark when we left for the drive back home and it didn’t seem nearly as long as the drive there. I thought to myself then, “Does going home always take less time than getting somewhere?” Little did we know that this would be the very last family style Christmas we would spend with our cousins, aunts and uncles.

               The holidays were over and I returned to school and life continued to move on.

               I came home from school every afternoon to a loving mother, my two sisters and our new baby brother. Life was good and we were happy. Then school let out for the summer and Mother went back to work, and once again, things changed.

 



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