Recollections begun October 25, 2008.
Dedicated to past and present family members with love. I, especially, hope our children and grandchildren enjoy knowing more about their family ancestry.
This is currently a work in progress. I'm trying to be as accurate as possible but still making guesses when it comes to names, dates, and places.
As I make additions or corrections to the original text, I'll change the color to blue so that changes will be obvious when you revisit. Once the document becomes stable I'll revert to one color.
This is a collection of family photos, notes, and personal recollections. Many of pictures shown here are from my mother's collection. Unfortunately, most of the photos inherited were not labeled and caused me to do a lot of guessing. As I learn more correct information, I'll make updates. Hopefully, as other family members see this page they'll be able to help fill in names, places, and dates. My first cousin, Beth Legge, in Austin, Texas, caught the genealogy bug in the early 1980s and created a family tree that traces my mother's family back to James Harmon, born in England about 1638. James Harmon and his wife Sarah Clarke, also born in England about 1638, had a son, John Harmon Sr., who was born 1650 in York, York Co., Maine, U.S. Those of you who are quick with math will notice this makes them parents at age 12, so I'm thinking there's a typo somewhere. Maybe he was born in 1659 since the tree also shows them getting married May 6, 1658. If I had started working on this earlier, many more of the the family details might have been captured while mother and other aunts and uncles were alive. Of course, I didn't inherit mother's pictures until she passed away, and web browsers weren't invented until 11 years after that. Another first cousin, Diana Lee Griffin (a person I did not know existed until I started trying to find out information about my father on October 16, 2008), in Wills Point, Texas, created a family tree that traces my father's family back to Richard Goode, who was born about 1600 in Whitley, North, Cornwall, England. Richard Goode, the son of the first Richard Goode and Joan Downe, and his wife, Sarah Parker, came to the U.S. between 1668-1670. They had a daughter, Florinda Goode, born 1668 in St. Minver, Cornwall, England and a son, Richard Goode, born 1670 in Essex, Virginia. I can't locate a city named Essex, but found Essex County, Virginia. There were 4 or 5 generations of Richard Goode! No wonder we ended up with nicknames. Mother told me my heritage was German, Irish, English, and Indian with English being duplicated on both sides of my family. The Indian part was, allegedly, Blackfeet Indian and existed only on my father's side. Diana told me that the Indian blood occurred somewhere in my grandmother Margaret Bell Sandefur's ancestry. Diana has not been able to trace the ancestry back any further, yet.
To the left are Annetta (Etta, Grammie, Nin?) Agnes Armstrong Harmon and Arthur (Grampy) Thomas Harmon Sr., my
grandmother and grandfather
on my mother's side. Based on other people in the original photo, I guess it to have
been taken about 1950.
Grammie was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Grampy was born in
Calais, Maine. Both were born in 1883 and they were married in Calais, Maine, in 1904. There were
seven children who survived childbirth, four daughters (Elizabeth, Julia, Lillian, and Frances) and
three sons (Arthur Jr., Ernest, and James E (Ted)). All seven of these aunts and uncles were
born in Calais, Maine. To the right are William D. Wallace, Etta's
stepfather (my great-grandfather) and Julia Wallace, Etta's Mother (my great-grandmother).
The two girls with Julia are yet unidentified. The
girl on the right could be Elizabeth (Aunt Betty) or Julia (Aunt Jo). Etta's natural father died
when
she was very young and she always thought of William Wallace as her real father. For years I
thought my grandmother's maiden name was Wallace and didn't really know it was Armstrong.
I remember a great-uncle named Eddie Wallace who mother and I would visit any time we got
close to Worcester, Mass.
My mother, Lillian Beatrice Harmon, graduated from the Calais Academy in June, 1934. I couldn't remember if mother ever told me how, or exactly when, she travelled to Corpus Christi, Texas. But, in correspondence with my cousin, Beth, I've come up with a theory. Beth told me that Aunt Betty (Elizabeth) worked for an itinerant photographer, i.e., one who travelled from place to place taking photographs. She believes that my mother may have travelled with Aunt Betty, although, she doesn't know if my mother actually worked for the photographer, too. So, as I look at the raw geanology data (both my mother and Aunt Betty got married about a month apart in Corpus Christi), and dozens of photos of my first cousin, Lois, this seems to make sense. With all the photos of Lois and her friends, I can assume that Aunt Betty was learning to pose subjects. And, if my mother tagged along for the excitement of traveling around the U.S. I can see how she may have reached Texas.
James Edmund (Teddy) Goode was born January 7, 1943, in Portland, Maine, the son
of Robert Lester Goode (1913-1975)
and Lillian Beatrice Harmon (1915-1984). Notes indicate we lived at 18 Marshall Street.
I've learned from cousin Betty Harmon Brackett that Grammie and Grampy owned, or rented, the Marshall
street house, and that my mom and dad plus Uncle Art Harmon and wife Aunt Peg also lived there. Their daughter,
my cousin Claudine, was born June 1942, and may have also lived there for awhile.
The earliest picture of me appears to be when I am a couple of months old.
Mother and dad were married on October 7, 1940,
in Corpus Christi, Texas. I always thought they were married in Portland but the
marriage license proves me wrong. I believe dad worked at the Naval ship yard
in both Portland and Corpus Christi as a pipe fitter. I'm not sure if he started working
for the Navy in Texas or Maine, first. I also thought
we moved back
to Corpus Christi when I was about 10 months old but vaccination records indicate
we were still in Portland when I was 18 and a half months old. One of the earliest pictures
I have of the three of us is shown here. It could have been taken in April or May which would make me about
3-4 months old.
I was born 7 weeks premature and spent many weeks
in a hospital incubator. Mother described the time as torture for her because she wanted me home
with them. I almost had an older brother named Robert, but he was stillborn in 1941. Mother
was told she could never have children after that because she would not survive the birth. She told
me later in life that when she got pregnant with me it was with the mind set that if she couldn't
have a child, she didn't really care whether she lived or not. She desperately wanted a child. Here's
a photo of me at 6 months (July 1943).
How on Earth did I end up with a nickname like 'Teddy'? I'm glad you asked. I was named after my mother's
brother who was overseas in the Army at the time of my birth. His name was James Edmund Harmon and as
a boy everyone called
him Eddy. Everyone, that is, except his youngest sister Frances who pronounced his name Teddy. The nickname, obviously,
stuck and soon everyone was calling him Teddy. I knew him
as Uncle Ted for as long as I can remember. Well, I ended up with both his real and his nickname.
One of the earliest pictures I have of mother as a young woman was taken April 20, 1937 in Portland.
She graduated from Calais Academy in June, 1934, in Calais, Maine which is about as far East as you
can go and still be in the U.S. It's right across the St. Croix river from St. Stephen, New Brunswick.
The portrait of my dad is undated and is the only non-snapshot type picture I have of him. He's wearing
a coat, or jacket, described as medium blue with black cuffs and collar according to notes on the
back of the photo. The notes also say 'tourist Camp next door to Inter nat. truck'. The picture is inscribed
with 'Love from Snooks'. I recently learned that I had an aunt named Juanita Elizabeth (Nita)
Goode, and three cousins named Margaret Pontremoli, Diana Griffin and Bill Griffin.
Until I spoke with Diana, I had never heard anyone refer to my
dad as Uncle Snooks. That was his nickname. I'm sure there's a good story there but we'll probably
never know it. I always heard my dad referred to as Les. Dad's portrait was taken in Corpus
Christi, Texas, and I'm guessing it was taken between 1945-1948. Margaret told Diana
that the coat was part of dad's band outfit.
Then there's one of my dad with some of his work buddies. This picture and the one of
me in the snowsuit could have been taken in front of 18 Marshall Street.
We lived in Portland, Maine until I was
between 1 and a half and 2 years old. Here are a couple pictures where I estimate I'm about
10 months old. Actually, mother told me that's how old I was in the snowsuit picture.
One is me dressed up as a snow bunny with dad and the other is a portrait.
Did I tell you I had naturally curly blond hair? Well, here's proof. I have another picture that shows me
with blond ringlets. Once I find it, I'll include it. Mother told me that my hair turned brown and straight
over night. As I look at some of these photos, I have to agree it appears rather sudden.
I'm guessing the next couple of pictures are me at about 18-20 months. The picture taken on the kitchen chair
shows the curls pretty good.
About age 2, we moved to Corpus Christi, Texas. That would have been during the first half of 1945. I have a picture where I estimate I'm about 2 years old. Whew! Looks like I finally got a hair cut. It didn't do anything for the curls, though. The first home I remember in Corpus Christi is Alexander Court[s] on North Beach. We lived a few blocks north of the Breakers Hotel.
Looking at a current map, the courts could have been on Beach Avenue and would have been at the end of the
street closest to the beach. There were a group of about 6 separate cottages plus a separate row of
carports with an upstairs apartment on one end where the owners lived. We lived in the second or third
one from the beach. As you can see from some of the pictures, my summer attire was casual. More formal
occasions called for sailor's cap. There's a picture of mother and I beside our cottage, a couple of me
in the afore mentioned sailor cap (one with a man I believe is Glen's dad), and one of me with Glen. As
I recall, Glen was my best friend at the time and we were great cohorts in crime. You know, whatever a
couple of 3 year old boys can think of to get into! Glen was a little older than I, maybe 6 months
or so but I'm sure I helped dream up many of our escapades. I didn't spend all my time sitting in a corner,
but I ask you... do you think we were saints?
You can see the cottages in several of these pictures. They look somewhat tiny but I thought they were
really quite large.
I can still remember walking over to the Breakers Hotel
on Sunday mornings with mother or dad, getting the Sunday paper, walking back, and then crawling up
on their bed and reading the comic pages. I remember having a puppy for awhile. Mother or dad let him out
during the night
to go to the bathroom and we never saw him again. He may have cried to come back in, but no one heard him.
I also remember having to take cod liver oil by the tablespoon, YUK!!!!!!! To this day I can't eat a fish
that has a strong taste or smell that is akin to what I remember.
Here are some pictures where I don't recognize the other people in them. I don't know if they are
relatives, friends, or neighbors.
These pictures appear to have been taken at Alexander Court[s], also.
The girl with the long dark hair could be Norma Saunders and the girl with the white band
holding her hair in place could be Darlene Boyd but I need to find more pictures to be sure.
Of course, I recognize this last picture. I'm guessing I'm about 5.
This picture has a special story, however. When I started trying to find information about my dad on the
Internet, I discovered Diana's web site and the 'Goode family branch'. Diana described her mother, Juanita
Elizabeth (Nita) Goode Griffin, along with her sister, brother and herself. And right in the middle of the
page was a note about my dad and this exact picture of me. Can you imagine my surprise to find a picture
of me on the Internet. Of course, Diana and her sister, Margaret, had placed it there for the purpose
of hoping that someday they would find me. After a few failed attempts to contact Diana, we finally spoke
by telephone on October 20, 2008.
Around age 5, or 1948, we moved from Alexander Court[s] to an apartment in North Corpus Christi.
I remember
it being in a row of 6 or 8 connected units separated by a carport for each one. I can remember
going to Kindergarten at a catholic school. I don't remember any names,
however.
The field behind this apartment is
where I first encountered red ants and, believe me, once you meet them you learn to give them
their space. All we had at Alexander Court[s] were an occasional Jelly fish. Hmmmm, I'm not sure which
one I would rather have!
Mother and dad separated in 1949, I think, and she and I drove to Birmingham, Alabama, to live
with Aunt Frances (mother's youngest sister), Uncle Mike, Grammie, Grampy, and Cousin Beth. Uncle Mike's family
(brother, sister,
parents) lived there and Grammie and Grampy moved there from Calais, Maine. Possibly the cold weather got to
them. Grampy was a painter and maybe he just wanted to retire. These pictures of Grammie and Grampy
were taken
in Burkettville, Maine, approximately 1948 where Uncle Ernie ran a poultry farm.
We lived at 1419 N. 28th Street and there was a huuuuuugggge park right across the street where we could play
(as long as Grammie said it was OK). Grammie pretty much had charge of Beth and I whenever all the other
grown ups were away. I think she retained a lot of the control even if they were there, too! The scariest time
we ever had in the park was when a storm blew in. The thunder and lightening came upon us so quick and we
tried to use several large trees as shelter. That was another one of those mistakes I'm glad I learned from
and can write about. A bolt of lightening hit the tree I was under and took a strip of bark off the tree
from near the top to the bottom that
was at least 4-6" wide. I rolled (tumbled) on the ground away from the tree and as soon as I could get up
I'm sure I ran home as fast as my legs could carry me. We also played in the coal cellar (they were no longer
using coal, and it was mostly empty). We always caught heck for getting so dirty. There was also an entrance
into the city drainage system from the park that some of us boys would venture into. Everything was just fine
until a car ran over one of the street level man hole covers, causing a thunderous (and then unknown) sound
to fill the drainage pipes we were in! At that time, we imagined all sorts of causes for the sound and came
scurrying out like scared rabbits. Can't you just see us?
See the picture of Beth and I on the porch with Grammie in the background? One thing I remember
about Grampy was his love of listening to baseball games on radio. He would sit right about where
Grammie is seated, with the radio on the floor and turned on, and he would lean over toward the radio to listen.
He wouldn't turn the volume up so that he could sit up straight because he didn't want to disturb the neighbors.
What would he think about the kids driving their cars today with those loud thunderous speakers blaring?
Grampy passed away while mother and I were living with them. I don't remember the cause, or the
exact date. It was probably in 1950. I
do remember him laying in his casket in the front living room with lots of flowers and candles
around. That was common back then. I also remember lots of people coming by to visit with
Grammie and the family.
After mother and dad separated, I don't think I saw my dad more
than a half-dozen times. I remember a couple of summer trips back to Corpus Christi, and I know dad came to
see me a couple of times in Alabama. I really missed him and the lack of contact is the primary reason for
not knowing much about my dad's family.
I remember at least one trip by Greyhound bus from Alabama to Texas, and the Texas part
of the trip put us into Corpus
Christi after dark. When you're riding a bus at night through Beaumont, Houston, and on to Corpus it seems
like forever. The land is so flat and you see lights and oil refinery burn offs for miles and miles. That
trip had to have been when I was closer to 6-7 years old, and I'm sure I kept asking dozens of questions.
I also remember a couple of close friends in Corpus Christi, Jimmy
and Rita Bloomberg (sp?). I saw them every time I went back, and Jimmy even came to spend a couple of weeks
with us in Alabama. Dad may have given him a ride to Alabama and back, but I'm not sure.
Just imagine if we had had the benefit of the Internet, email, and cell phones back then? Maybe things
would have been different.
I was surprised to learn I had an Aunt Nita.
Diana says that Cousin Margaret remembers me clearly, but I'm sorry to say I can't remember her. I think
there's about 9 years difference between our ages, so I may have been too young to remember. Diana and her
brother, Bill, were not yet born when mother and I moved to Alabama. I think mother [and I] came back to
Corpus Christi at least once to try and reconcile with dad, but they just couldn't work things out.
Mother told me later, after I was an adult in the Air Force, that I always saw the best side
of my dad. I bless her to this day for a lot of things but, especially, because she never wanted to tarnish
the image I had of dad. She felt
it was important for me to think only the best thoughts of him.
While living in Birmingham, I attended grades 1-4 at St. Paul's Catholic School downtown. Both my Cousin Beth
and I did.
We rode the public bus back and forth each day.
Beth and
I are only 7 months apart and I recall numerous times when people thought we were brother and sister,
and some even thought we were twins. We were a whole lot like brother and sister at that time. We squabbled,
schemed, played, laughed, and loved like any brother and sister would. As an only child, these times
were some of the best I can recall. I always wanted to have a brother or sister.
While we lived in Birmingham, I remember mother making weekly trips to the medical school in South Birmingham. I knew she dealt with a lot of pain, but it wasn't until many years later that I learned just how much. From about age 18 mother suffered from pain that was later diagnosed as Rheumatoid Arthritis. In her early years, the doctors didn't know what it was. I looked it up and the disease was given a proper name in 1859. I guess mother didn't find the right doctor to tell her what she had. During those early years one doctor did tell her to have all of her teeth pulled, which she did, but that didn't help. The medical school, as well as individual doctors, used mother literally as a test human being. They gave her all kinds of medication in hopes that one would someday actually provide relief or possibly lead to a cure.
Sometime during 3rd, or between 3rd and 4th, grade (1951-1952) my mother started dating, and later
married
my stepfather, James Buren Swanzy. We lived in an apartment in Birmingham while James worked for a
large tire
company in South Birmingham. Later, my stepfather opened his own tire shop in North Birmingham. I can remember
a progression of shops and residences after that. From Birmingham we moved to Gardendale, Alabama,
where we ran a roadside
grocery store, gas station, and tire repair shop, with our residence attached to the back of the store.
I remember my Uncle Ted coming to work for us during that time.
I remember on special nights, one of the neighbors up the hill from us would hang a white sheet on the side
of their house and we'd all get to watch a black and white movie. I recall one about the life of Hank Williams.
I attended 5th-6th grade in Gardendale.
School was close enough for me to walk back and forth with some friends. One day, on the way home,
I stopped by one of my friends home for a few minutes. Well, minutes must have become a lot longer,
and, unknown to me, my mother and James had become quite frantic trying to locate
me. When they did, I remember James meeting me at the front door of my friends house. Mother was
in the car parked at the end of their sidewalk which was about 100 feet away. He picked me up by
my left arm and carried me all the way to the car, while swatting my butt with his right hand that
entire distance. I was crying too hard when we reached the car to realize that my mother was also
wet with her tears of fear from them hunting for me. There were lots of hugs, later, but the short
drive home was rather cold.
Then James opened a larger
tire shop in Gardendale and we lived in a duplex in Fultondale, Alabama, a few miles from Gardendale.
As I recall, there were two duplexes on this large piece of land, and I remember my stepfather's brother,
George,
and his family living in half of the other one.
I recall a trip to Grand Rapids, Michigan, to help George and his family move. I don't remember if we were
helping
them move to Alabama, or move to Grand Rapids. Records indicate that James and George were born in Birmingham,
but George died in Grand Rapids. Maybe his wife was from there. I also remember a cousin named George, and
possibly
a younger female cousin. My cousin, George Swanzy, would have been a year, or more, younger than I.
I clearly remember waking up early one Christmas morning with my cousins
to discover that Santa Claus had already come to visit. Our parents shouted "Do you kids know it's 5 in the
morning?"
Later that day we learned the grown ups had
gone to bed around 3 AM. Weren't we stinkers?
For 7th grade, I rode a school bus back into Birmingham (about 8 miles) and attended St. Paul
Catholic School, once more. Mother and James thought I was starting to get a little wild attending the public
school!
I also remember sweeping the bus out every day (I was the last stop) to earn a little pocket change.
By 8th grade (1956), we had moved further up Highway 31 to Warrior, Alabama, where James opened an even
larger
tire store.
This picture taken in front of our 1953 Chevy and house was probably from 1956. The tire shop was right across
the street from our house.
We sold new and recapped tires, as well as vulcanized (patched) ones. I remember doing our own patching
and recapping right there in the shop. It was hot and dirty work but at the same time very rewarding. I spent
many
hours with James, and Uncle Ted, going to salvage yards looking for tires that were good enough to be patched
and recapped. It was
in Warrior that I joined the Boy Scouts, learned gun safety, and was given my first rifle. Uncle Ted, Aunt Sue
and
cousin's Leonard and Arthur also moved to Warrior. I remember baby sitting my cousins when Uncle Ted and Aunt
Sue
would go out for an evening. Aunt Frances, Uncle Mike, and cousins Beth, George, and Tim also moved to Warrior.
This picture of Aunt Sue Harmon, myself, Grammie, Beth Fiander, Leonard Harmon, Timmy and George Lavas was
most likely taken in front of Aunt Frances and Uncle Mike's house in 1956.
Cousin Michael was born sometime after mother and I left Warrior. Aunt Frances and Uncle Mike opened up a
drive-in restaurant right
on the Highway near the South end of town. I remember them always being in the restaurant business. Uncle Mike
owned and operated at least one place in Birmingham until they moved to Warrior. This picture of mother was
taken in the drive-in.
I remember working for them sometimes. I waited on cars, made fountain drinks, and carried the orders
back out when they were ready. Remember fountain drinks? Shakes, malts, cherry-Coke, cherry-vanilla-Coke, etc.
I think Uncle Mike did almost all the cooking. He made the best hamburger steaks and french fries I can remember.
The picture of me in the shadows by my dad's 1953 Buick was probably taken in 1957 at his apartment in Corpus
Christi. The other picture was taken at a roadside park during the trip.
Dad drove to Alabama at least once to take me to Corpus for a 2-3 week stay.
You may have noticed the rolled up shirtsleeves. Well, that was a cool thing to do at the time. I also
tried to comb my hair similar to the way Elvis Presley did. It didn't work, but I thought that was cool, too.
You may also notice the turned up shirt collar in other pictures. That's another cool thing we did back then.
The picture of Arthur and Leonard Harmon was taken Christmas 1957, probably in Aunt Sue and Uncle Ted's house.
While we lived in Warrior, James
was always looking for ways to improve our lifestyle. He purchased the pool hall (which I was never allowed to
step into because of age restrictions) and later a coin operated laundry mat. All businesses were pretty much
right on main street (Highway 31). I checked and the current population of Warrior is around 3000 and I would
guess it was close to that number when we lived there.
During the summer of 1956, I expressed a strong interest in playing the trumpet. Actually, mother
purchased, or rented, an inexpensive trumpet and I started taking lessons. When dad found out I was learning to
play the trumpet he gave me his own personal trumpet
and I played that until just prior to enlisting in the Air Force. Mother bought me a new trumpet, but I still
have the one dad gave me and will probably always hang on to it. Although, I don't currently play the trumpet
I have threatened to start up again once I retire. If I do, I'll try to keep at it for about a year to
see if I really want to play again. It takes a real commitment to keep a good sound.
There are several old-timer bands around that I could join if I decide to take it up again.
I played all through High School (including
All State and South Jersey bands), in the Air Force band (539th at Lackland AFB in San Antonio), and attended
North Texas State University (now called The University of North Texas) where I played in the concert, marching,
and 6 o'clock jazz bands.
We lived in Warrior and I attended 8th-9th grades, there. I remember it being a fun time. In addition to
band, I discovered girls, boy scouts, motorcycles, girls, hunting and camping, girls, and responsibility. Well,
as much responsibility as a 14-15 year old boy
can discover. I worked in the tire shop on week ends, and was taught how to save money. I also worked at the
drive-in restaurant. Boy scouts was a blast because we had a scout cabin right on the Warrior River. Mr. Mann
was the scoutmaster and he had at least one son in scouts. And Boy Scout summer camp in Alabama was special
with all the trees, hills, rivers and lakes. There was a cafe in town, Blackburn's I think it was, that fixed
some of the best vegetables I can remember. Today, when I cook, I try to recreate the same taste and smell I
remember. And sometimes I think I'm successful. Warrior is where I tried picking cotton one time. I quickly
went back to the hot and sweaty tire shop. I also spent the better part of a year talking James and my mother
into letting me buy a motorcycle. Talk about a tough sell, they were. Well, a week before I was to purchase
the 'used' bike, a very well known, respected, and responsible H.S. Senior was killed in a head-on collision
while riding his motorcycle. They said he leaned over to adjust something while riding down the street
and that one mistake cost him his life. I sadly went back to mother and James and told them that maybe I
shouldn't buy a motorcycle just yet. I think they were very relieved, but they didn't show it. They both
said I was being very responsible. But, we had a lot to do in Warrior. There were the movies, the drive-in
restaurant, and the roller rink just down the road. We had weekly races at the rink. And, of course,
I rode my bicycle everywhere
in town. I remember some school dances, too, and we also had parties at different peoples houses.
We would each bring a few favorite records (45 RPMs) and play music, talk, and dance some at these. Mostly,
though, I remember the girls in one group and boys in another group talking while the music played.
I have very fond memories of James during these years. He was a very good and loyal stepfather, and
his discipline was very much needed during my 3rd through 9th grade years (age 9-15).
During the summer of 1958, things took a turn for the worse. It probably started earlier
but I wasn't aware of it. An old friend of my stepfather came around and asked for a job and James
agreed to help him. I'm guessing that James and mother discussed this 'after the fact'.
I didn't know it at the time, but this friend had just gotten out of prison. Well, James started
spending more and more time with this friend and they were going out drinking and spending money as if it
grew on trees. It probably started small and then got out of hand. Anyway, while this was going on there
were bills piling up that needed to be paid and James didn't have the money to pay them. When you are in
the tire business, buying several hundred (thousand?) dollars worth of rubber a week to recap tires, the
bills add up quickly. I think several months went by without James keeping up with them.
As a result, we lost the tire shop, pool hall, laundry mat, and our house. All of these were,
I think, rented and not owned but the overall effect was still the same. We lost our whole lifestyle.
Mother and James no longer talked to one another. Whenever they were together, they just shouted and hollered
at one another. It was total anger and frustration. And even though we were broke, I gathered that he was
still drinking.
That summer, mother and James got a divorce, and she and I left Warrior and drove to Norfolk, Virginia
where we lived with Aunt Jo and Uncle Chet. I think my cousin Yvonne and her husband were there for a short
while, also. What a heart breaker it was to leave Warrior. I had made some
good friends there, I had been promised a used car (a 1947 Chevy) when I got my driver's license at age 16,
and I was real sweet on Peggy Jolly.
I have very good memories of the majority of the time James and mother were married. He was always
good to me and tried to be the best kind of father he could be. I now know, as a father myself, that raising
a boy from grades 3-9 can be quite a challenge. He was there to answer the tough boy questions that mother
might not have been able to answer. Oh, she would have tried and given it her best shot but James was
always straight with me. He was strict when he needed to be, and quick to give me praise and a bear
hug when I deserved it. He let me have the space to make some of the dumb kid mistakes we all make. I hate
that things ended the way they did, because mother deserved a much better fate than what she got.
Remember 1958? One of the reasons we didn't stay in Alabama was
because of the forced school integration law. Mother had read, and heard, that schools might not open
that year and, sure enough, they didn't. We stayed with Aunt Jo and Uncle Chet for a couple of months until
mother figured out that the schools were not going to open in Virginia, either. I guess there were a number
of southern states where schools did not open that year. And the riots in Little Rock, Arkansas, are well
documented. So, we piled all our belongings in the car once more and headed for New Jersey.
We arrived in Pennsville, New Jersey about mid-October, 1958. My cousin, Lois, and her husband John Greenwood had agreed that we could stay with them until mother could get her feet back on the ground again. Lois
was mother's oldest sister's daughter (Aunt Betty's daughter). This is a picture of Aunt Betty.
Age wise, Lois and John seemed more like
and aunt and uncle than cousins, and boy did they come to our rescue that year. John had just finished
raising their roof and adding a new master bedroom upstairs. That's probably how they were able to take
us in. Lois and John had three children at the time, Annetta, Johnny, called Jake, and Judy who
was just a few weeks old. They still found room for us.
I think they lived at 6 Dunlap Avenue.
The first order of business was to get me enrolled in school. I didn't know it then, but I would spend
grades 10-12 at Pennsville Memorial High School in Pennsville, New Jersey. Pennsville is located
right across the Delaware River from Wilmington, Delaware.
Mother spent most of her time trying to find a job, which wasn't easy. I don't know what all she may
have tried, but she ended up on a picket line for the ILGWU in the winter time freezing her 'you know what'
off. She did it with the promise that she would have a job once a contract was re-negotiated with the
International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union. And, sure enough, she went to work there and got paid $25
a week sewing dresses. She and I started doing clean up at the dress factory sometime shortly after that.
We would go back 1, or 2, nights a week and clean all the machines and troughs and floors of all the
remnants and dust. And I thought working in a tire shop was dirty work! We would cough dust for a couple
of hours after we got home. Living with Annetta and Johnny was like having a sister and brother, again, for
awhile. Since Judy was just a baby, I don't remember being able to play with her that much. I mostly
ran around the neighborhood with the older kids.
As I said earlier, when we lived with Aunt Frances, Uncle Mike, and Beth it was like having a
sister which I really enjoyed. We had our rough moments, but most of the time was a blast. When Beth's
and my family lived in Warrior and we attended school together once again, it was different.
Beth and I were one grade apart and since she was in the upper class with the 'older, more mature'
students we didn't communicate the same way as in earlier years. I was more like the little
brother that was pushed aside. I think that's pretty normal for 13-14 year olds.
Living with Annetta and Johnny were like having a sister and brother again. I don't remember exactly,
but I think Annetta's about 6 years younger than I and Johnny about 3 years younger than Annetta.
I had to learn a new life style in New Jersey.
In Alabama, I remember them cancelling school one day when it started to snow because it was such a rare
occurrence. Well, guess what? Snow is expected in New Jersey right along with frozen ponds and marshes.
I remember playing football in the snow, being pulled across a frozen marsh on a sled by a bicycle and
listening to the ice creak and groan as we skimmed along. I always thought the ice was going to
break and us all fall in.
John, similar to my stepfather James, treated me like a son. He was a person who believed
in doing almost everything himself when it came to do-it-yourself projects. He had built a garage before
I met him, and later he built their swimming pool.
While we lived with John and Lois, I tried to help him whenever I could. Mother and I felt it
was the least we could do. I was able to help John with things that Johnny was still a little to
young to do. Hopefully, I was able to help most of the time and not just be in the way.
I also remember him raising mink. You know, those
cute little animals they make coats out of. At least I think they're still allowed to do that. I got to
help feed them from time-to-time. Here's what I remember: don't wear loose clothing or brush up against
the cages because they are fast little critters and will rip whatever they can reach to shreds. And once
the females have their babies, you have to separate them or the adults will eat them. They are also very
picky eaters. You have to make their food just right or they turn their little noses up at it.
John was a very good person to have in my life while we lived in Pennsville and, especially, while we
lived with he and Lois. He liked to have fun but he was pretty much a no-nonsense person and he
gave me good advice, whether I wanted it or not.
John was an outdoors person and loved all kind of hunting sports. While we were living with John and
Lois, he included me in all of those activities. I remember rabbit, deer, and duck hunting. My first
attempt at rabbit hunting was a disaster as far as me hitting anything. In Alabama, I went rabbit and
squirel hunting all the time and could pretty much hit whatever I shot at with my .22 rifle. My
mother would not let me bring them home, so I only shot what I knew I could drop off at one of several
family's homes on the way home. There were a number of families who lived in the thicker part of the
woods away from town who didn't have a lot of money for food. Anyway, in New Jersey the land was
pretty flat with out a lot of trees and rifles were not allowed, so I had to use a shotgun and it
took a while to learn how to lead the game. I think I got better, but I don't remember hunting that
often. John did take me on one duck hunting trip. Here's what I remember. I was awakened in the
middle of the night, and then I put on what seemed like every piece of clothing I owned. It was still
dark when we piled into his truck and left the house. I don't remember exactly how far we drove, but it
seemed like forever. I do remember the radio being on and I think we listened to 'Little Drummer Boy'
at least a dozen times. It was real popular that year. When we arrived at his chosen spot, we got
out of the truck, walked a little way and then got into a flat bottom boat. I don't think the boat
ride was more than a mile or so but hitting the waves in that boat made my teeth rattle. We arrived
at the spot where the 'blind' was located, got out of the boat and settled in. I remember a hole in
the ground. We sat on the ground with our feet in the hole and with tall reeds around us to shield
us from being seen by the ducks until they were right overhead. I can't remember if, or how many,
we shot but I remember being colder than I have ever felt in my life. Even with all the clothes I
had on I just couldn't get, or stay, warm. We hunted forever, and then reversed our travel steps.
We must have shot several ducks because I remember John plucking the ducks and Lois cooking them.
I had never eaten duck before.
One of the things I remember about the new school that was tough, was having to take French when I was starting school six weeks late. I don't think I ever caught up. But that's OK. After graduation, I joined the Air Force and spent four years in San Antonio, Texas. I never once had to depend on my French lessons to communicate with the locals. Seriously, though, 10th grade was my worst. I might have gotten a few Cs, but most were Ds with a couple of Fs thrown in for good measure. The material was much more advanced than in Alabama, where I had received straight As. I did, however, manage to climb back to the straight As bracket and even became a member of the National Honor Society my senior year. I had to maintain good grades in order to stay involved with the band. I remember lots of friends in Pennsville. Freddie Reinhart lived across the street from Lois and John. Dwight Benner, whose father was a minister, live a couple blocks away. Then there was Kenny Holsinger, Leo Craven, Duane Tash to name a few more. I think we lived with Lois and John for 10 months, or so. Then we were able to rent an appartment over a garage somewhere closer to the river (Penn Beach area?). Other than the dress factory, I didn't work during the week. I did work on weekends and during the summers. Some of the jobs I remember are: odd-jobs at a mortuary (no, nothing like you might be thinking), digging ditches for a plumber when sewers were installed in Pennsville, teaching trumpet lessons at an accordian studio, working at Earl Thomason's Esso gas station, making furniture at a furniture factory, and working at the amusement park as ticket taker/manager. The furniture factory may have been the summer of '66 or '67 between years at NTSU or ECPI. Mother and I also worked as U.S. census takers during the 1960 census. That was very interesting. Earl was another person who took a special interest in me and helped teach me how to be a responsible young adult. We met Earl, and his wife Jesse, when we rented an apartment from Lovada Trantham at 23 Goose Lane. Earl and Jesse lived just down the street and I used to get rides with him when I worked at the gas station. Earl was a good friend to lots of the boys in Salem and Pennsville. Especially, the ones who had cars and who liked to keep them clean and in good running condition. He would always let them use his wash bay and grease rack when it was not busy and I don't think he charged them for it. I remember they always kept the place really clean for him as part of the pay back. Herman Trantham, Lovada's son, and his wife and Earl and Jesse were good friends. I remember also being the recipient of some nice clothes as Herman's son out grew them. That striped sport coat further down the page is one such piece of clothing. Later, we rented an apartment upstairs over Roy and Mildred Wine's house. Did I tell you about my driver's license? Well, in New Jersey, you have to be 18 before you can get a license. So, moving to NJ added two years to my not being able to drive. That was really hard on my mother because she really would have liked me being able to drive, what with her Arthritis and all. The added years probably kept me out of some trouble, though. A real fun music event happened near the end of my Junior year. Mr. Fridorich, our band director, asked myself and Duane Tash (saxaphone) to join his pit orchestra and play for a performance of Music Man that his church was putting on. The whole orchestra was probably not more than 10 pieces, but here were two high school kids (Duane and I) playing with real professionals. WOW! We practiced more than ever after the first rehearsal.
Updated this paragraph and added more on 12/02/2008
I graduated from H.S. in June, 1961, worked at the amusemant park until it closed for the year, and
left for San Antonio, Texas, October 31, 1961 to join the Air Force. I knew I would be there for 8 weeks
basic training but never dreamed I would spend the next four years there in the 539th Air Force Band of
the West. After the initial disappointment of not going to Germany, or Hawaii, or some other place exotic,
I have to admit I really enjoyed my years there. We had a 75 member squadron and were able to do a lot of
music that smaller units could not. You might not be familiar with military bands, but their primary
purpose is public relations. We were always traveling to small towns to play and march in county fair
and festival parades.
You could also count on seeing a couple of USAF recruiters there.
Whenever possible, we would include a concert at the local school. Every year we would travel to Dallas
to do parades around the fair grounds at the Texas State Fair. And we always
had a full schedule of school concerts in Dallas. In addition, we would play and march for pilot graduations
in Laredo and Del Rio, Texas about every 6 weeks. Since I played trumpet, I had some additional
duties like playing taps and reveille at the main gate, and traveling to play taps at military funerals.
The funerals were some of the toughest duty to get through without choking up. San Antonio was also 'sister
city' to Monterey, Mexico, and the cities would swap cultural events each year. I remember traveling to
Monterey about 3 years in a row to play concerts on TV, at the university, and around town.
When I mention travel and Air Force together you probably think we flew everywhere. Well, it wasn't quite
like that. Most of our travel was by bus. Can you say 'blue school bus'? We only flew if the distance
was over a certain amount, like from San Antonio to Dallas. And, my years in the Air Force was before
AC had been invented for vehicles. When we did fly, it seems we always lucked out and got the C-119s, a.k.a.
the flying box car. Very noisy and if we had ever had problems in flight I'm pretty sure that gliding in
for a landing wasn't much of an option. It probably would have fallen out of the sky like a brick!
While in San Antonio, I played in the Incarnate Word College community orchestra and the Trinity
University community orchestra,
as well as played some of that jazz stuff. In addition to music, I was able to attend San Antonio Junior
College and complete most of my basic college requirements.
During my leaves from service (a.k.a. vacations from military duty), I would go back to New Jersey and mother
and I would usually go visit relatives and friends around New Jersey, New York, New Hampshire, and Maine.
These were always fun times. I got to know many of my cousins during those visits. And that part of
the country is quite beautiful in the Summer and early Fall.
Added this paragraph on 12/16/2008
One of the neat things about being in San Antonio was being close enough to visit relatives in Austin, which was only 85 miles north. I had to save money and buy a car first, but after I did that I was able to visit many times a year. Grammie, Aunt Frances, Uncle Mike, Beth, George, Michael and Tim all moved to Austin in June, 1960. When mother and I left Warrior, Alabama, construction had already begun on the Interstate highway that ran parallel to SH 31. The drive-in restaurant was able to stay pretty busy during that time, and may have even had an increase in business from the construction workers, but once the IH was completed a lot of busines would be lost. This may have been a factor in them moving. My cousin Beth told me that Aunt Betty and her children, Darlene and Larry, lived in Austin at the time they moved there. Aunt Betty lived in Austin until her death. Darlene and Larry still live in other parts of Texas, Midland and Corpus Christi I think. I always had fun visiting Austin. I can still remember Aunt Frances' chicken and rice dish. It was one of those one pot meals that was 'to die' for that still makes my mouth water. Hey, I was a single guy in the service eating mess hall food. What did you expect me to remember? OK. How's this? Beth was able to show me around Austin and always knew a party to go to. I think she dated a guy who drove, or had access to, a limozine and we tooled around town in the limo one night. I also remember the first 'Mike's Hideaway' restaurant. It was in a basement, with one flight of stairs down to the entrance. Uncle Mike let me help him (on several trips) decorate the walls of the restaurant. It was done with newspaper and magazine clippings of people and events around Austin that went back for many years. I think it was what you call decoupage, and the pictures were cut out in all sorts of shapes. The end result was quite the talk of the town. Beth had graduated from H.S. In Warrior in 1960. I remember her being enrolled in nursing school at UT (The University of Texas) in Austin for a while, but also remember her taking part of her courses at Texas Tech in Lubbock, Texas. My trips to Austin weren't quite as eventful after Beth switched schools. I'm not sure, but I probably got more sleep during those trips. 'Mike's Hideway' had to give way to growth and expansion in Austin and the building was torn down and rebuilt as something else. I know Uncle Mike wished there was some way to take that decoupage with him, but that was not to be. That's when Uncle Mike opened up 'Mike's Pub', which is still going strong today. Mike's Pub is on 7th Street, about a hundred feet east of S. Congress, which is just south of the capitol building. It's one flight up beside a parking garage. Uncle Mike ran the restaurant until he passed away, then his son, George ran it, and now his grandson, Christopher, runs it. The last time I heard, numerous congressmen still come in for lunch there.
Updated this paragraph on 12/05/2008
When I was discharged from the Air Force in September, 1965,
I enrolled at NTSU (North Texas State University) in Denton, Texas. Actually, after they resolved
the Cuban missile crisis, I was allowed to exercise an 'early out' to start college. My official tour
wasn't scheduled to end until the end of October. My first year at NTSU I majored in Music Education and
minored in Math.
I was very lucky to find a room in a house for rent just a block from the music building. There was
a refrigerator, telephone, and shared bath just down the hall from my room. The house had two other
rooms to rent and an apartment. So, I had a young family living in the apartment next to me and two
other friends in rooms down the hall. I was also able to get a job cooking and waiting tables at the
Campus Drug Store right across the street from the TWU freshman dorms. This provided some extra income
and a hot meal every night I worked.
At the end of that first year, one of my friends graduated with his Masters in Music Education
and accepted a job for not very much money. During that next summer at home in New Jersey I made it a point to
go see and talk with George Melnick (my Senior year band director) and Edwin Fridorich (my Sophomore and Junior
years band director). I was having second
thoughts about my selected career. They both convinced me, without really saying it, that I probably
did not want a career as a music educator. My heart was in playing, instead of teaching.
Here's a side note for you. During the visit with my band directors and other friends in Pennsville,
I made a mental note that when I could afford a $2,500 new car and $12,000 new house I would know
I had made the right decision. Little did I know how much the price of things would change by the time
I was ready to buy them. I did buy my mother a new car for about $2,200, however,
in 1969. I was majoring in
education because I thought that's what I was supposed to do. During my first year at NTSU I was also very
observant regarding skills of other students. I was very much aware of students enrolled right of
high school who were more skilled performers than I considered myself to be. Don't get me wrong. I was good.
I was also realistic. I auditioned for and played in the marching band, concert band, and 6 o'clock jazz
lab band. Several of the students would go on the road with Stan Kenton, Woody Herman, and bands like
that during school breaks and the summer. I sensed I was not quite the same caliber as they were.
I was also beginning to think about what I wanted to do for the next 30-40 years. I
felt I wanted to eventually get married (although I was not in a hurry) and have a family. Thinking back
about my dad, I knew he was never home. He was always out playing with a band somewhere, so that didn't
seem to foster a good family life. After much deliberation, I decided to return to NTSU where I changed
my major to Engineering and my minor to Music Performance. My second year was a blast. I studied hard and
took engineering courses and selected the jazz band, private lessons, and concert band that I enjoyed
as electives or minors. I
had prepared for engineering in high school, so the transition was easy. As I progressed through my second
year I began trying to further refine my career path. I attended several seminars and took some
aptitude tests dealing with computer hardware (the stuff you can kick) and computer software. I discovered
I would be great at either one. Now, what to do? Get a 4-year degree in engineering and go into computers?
Attend a specialized school for computers? They hadn't created a Computer Science degree at that time
in history. I felt strongly that computers were going to be around for
a long time, and I was more than anxious to start my career. After spending my second summer at home in
New Jersey, I came back to Dallas and enrolled in Electronic Computer Programming Institute (ECPI).
I signed
up for a 4 month intensive training course that I graduated from in December 1967.
They specialized in IBM System 360 programming languages, stuff like assembler language and COBOL.
During programming school I went to work for a company that provided supplies to small convenience
stores similar to 7-11s. Class was scheduled for half days, so I was able to work, go to class, and then
study at night. I, basically, pushed a cart up and down aisles for 4 hours each day picking orders to
be delivered by truck to those stores. Since leaving Denton and NTSU,
they have renamed the school The University of North Texas (UNT).
Updated this paragraph on 12/04/2008
ECPI was very important in my life because that's where I met Carol Conover. At first it was just a date or two, but as the Fall progressed we began seeing each other more and more. She invited me to meet her parents and I remember starting to visit them during Sunday football games and dinners. They actually insisted that I come visit. Carol has a sister, named Lynn, and she and Carol's whole family sort of adopted me. I'm glad things worked out with Carol and I, because if they hadn't I think Mom, Dad, and Sis would have kept inviting me out to the house anyway. I always felt like I was a part of their family and I still miss Mom and Dad (Grace and Carl Conover) who are no longer alive. I dearly love Lynn and her family who live close by. Carol and I discovered that we both attended NTSU for two years before enrolling at ECPI. Our paths, however, never crossed while we were at NTSU. One trip I took with Carol and her family occurred on Easter Sunday, 1968. We drove up to Fort Sill by Lawton, Oklahoma, to spend the day with Carol's cousin Pat Dorsey, his wife Edda and their family. Edda was born and raised in Italy and we were anticipating an authentic Italian meal. I had never had one before and didn't know what to expect. Well, after visiting for a while, dinner was served. As I recall, we started with soup and baked bread. I remember being surprised that the children also drank wine. It was watered down but it was still wine. We may have had a fresh salad about the same time, but I'm not sure. After soup, we had lasagna, and may have had the salad then. After soup, salad, and lasagna I was pretty well filled up. Guess what? Then came the pot roast, potatoes and vegetables. I don't ever remember having that much food at one meal, and Carol had warned me to save room for her fantastic desserts. I know I was surprised by the whole spread and I'm pretty sure Carol's family was, too. It was their first authentic Italian meal as well.
Updated this paragraph on 12/05/2008
Here's a treat for you. When I went to ECPI, and later as I started going on job interviews, I began encountering what I thought to be very odd names. I used to have a list but don't know where it is at this time. One of our instructors was 'Millard Goad', and another gentleman I met was 'Forest Garb'. I had a list of 10-12 unusual names and was beginning to think that everyone involved with computers had strange names. That turned out not to be true. During Christmas of 1967 and early January 1968 I think I went on 22 job interviews and finally landed a job with IBM. It was a tough sell, however, because almost everyone I talked to wanted a person with a college degree. They didn't care what the degree was in, they just wanted you to have one. I remember my interview with Robert Zigler at IBM. When he presented me with that information, I countered with a proposal. If he would hire me, I would consider myself a temporary employee for the first 30 days. At any time during that period, if he felt I wasn't the right kind of person to be working for him, all he had to do was call me into his office, tell me, and I'd leave. Robert hired me and I started to work for IBM in Dallas in January, 1968. Well, as you might have guessed Robert never called me into his office, at least not to tell me to hit the road. We had a great team, I learned a lot and contributed a lot. After going to work for IBM, I gave up my apartment in Denton and moved into an efficiency apartment in Dallas. I lived on Douglas Avenue near Oak Lawn and Lemmon. Based on the news, that area has changed quite a bit since I lived there. Carol went to work for Anderson Clayton Foods Company (ACCO). They made products like Chiffon Butter and Green Goddess salad dressing. At a time when all of the IBM computers I had seen were blue, their's was chiffon yellow. Now that was an eye opener when you walked into their data center. We talked often and I have to tell you, being a woman in the work force in 1968 was very challenging. She didn't really get to use the skills we learned in school. She was treated more like a secretary than an IT professional. It was a shame that most of her talents were wasted on that company. It wasn't a specific problem with that company. It was the whole attitude toward women in the work force at that time. Most men had a perception about what jobs were reserved for women and which ones were reserved for men. I didn't observe that really changing until the late 70s. I'm not sure it has completely changed, yet. Carol and I continued dating and on July 4, 1968, I asked her to marry me. As I recall, her family had rented a couple of hotel rooms in Arlington near Six Flags for the holiday. I drove out and met them on that holiday and popped the question while I was there. I had a beautiful ring with me and remember being extremely nervous. To my relief, and joy, she said yes. Everyone but Carol knew what I had planned for that day, and I can just imagine their thoughts as they watched me looking for the right moment and trying to bolster my courage to ask the question. I was sure I knew what her answer would be, but at the same time something in the back of my mind kept asking "what if she says no?". I don't remember if I had a response to no, but as it turned out I didn't need one.
Added this paragraph on 12/05/2008
October, 1968, IBM transferred me to New York and I went to work in their White Plains office. I really didn't want to leave Dallas and Carol but, being early in my career, I didn't think I had a lot of choices. I found an apartment in neighboring Hartsdale, New York. I don't recall when Carol and I picked a date, but the wedding was set for April, 1969. There was some working around Easter that year, so the exact date may have moved a little during the beginning. I remember many long phone calls and discovered that this long distance romance and planning stuff was for the birds. I know Carol feels like I deserted her and left her with all the planning and chores to do, but it was also hard for me to be so far away. Sometime during early 1969 Carol quit her job to give her more time to handle the wedding planning. She had gotten more and more discouraged about her job and the lack of programming opportunities with ACCO. I know that hastened her decision. Carol and I went to the same school and received the same training. When she started work, however, she was treated like a secretary and a goffer, not like a programmer. I wonder how many women were treated that same way? For the young girls reading this today, if you think that men and women in the workplace are treated differently, just imagine what it was like in the 70s, 60s, 50s, and 40s. I think it's improved a lot, but I'm sure there are still places where it hasn't changed much. During the time I lived in New York before we got married, my mother came to live with me. Sometime, after I went into the Air Force, mother started working for the school cafeteria in Pennsville. Due to her arthritis, however, she wasn't able to do all the chores required by that job. A kitchen uses lots of heavy duty pots and pans and there was no way she could lift, move, or wash such utinsils. I know they made a lot of concessions for her because of this. Don't get me wrong, mother was not a slacker and I know she was constant motion and did everything she could to make sure she was part of the team. She did a lot of work on the serving line and cash register. During her time working there she was diagnosed with emphysema. This was probably a result of having smoked for about 20 years during her earlier years. She had to retire from the cafeteria and ended up on SSI disability since she was too young to receive Social Security. This was very hard for mother, because she never wanted to take handouts or receive something she didn't think she had worked for. After some long discussions, mother came to realize that I would not live in New York (or anywhere in the northeast) for any extended period of time. I felt quite certain I would eventually move back to Texas. Mother and I decided that she would come live with me until Carol and I got married, then she would take an extended vacation to visit and live with various friends and relatives in the Northeast, until Carol and I were hopefully back in Texas. Then she would move there and set up house close by. A big part of the motivation for her doing all that was so she would end up in a part of the country that had milder winters. Mother, like myself, could stand a lot of heat but neither one of us liked the cold harsh winters in New Jersey. If you haven't lived there, let me tell you. Most of the state is just above sea level and is surrounded by rivers, bays and the Atlantic ocean. It contains a lot of marshes. All this produces a high humidity that can make both summers and winters somewhat unbearable. It was extremely difficult for mother with her arthritis and, I assume, the emphysema. So, that was our plan and I think it worked out fairly well.
Added this paragraph on 12/05/2008
One of the things I was able to do while I was in New York was buy mother a new car before she started her vacation. While I was attending NTSU, The GI Bill paid for my tuition and enrollment fees. ECPI, however, was not considered part of the GI package. To attend ECPI, I had to pay for it on my own. But, as you might guess, I didn't have enough savings to do that and the ability to obtain credit at the drop of a hat didn't exist at that time. I think my original plan was to come back to Dallas, work and save money, and then start training at ECPI. Mother had been working and saving the whole time I was in the Air Force and she offered to loan me the money for school. It took a lot of talking because, like my mother, I never wanted a handout. After much discussion I finally agreed to take the loan and my payback would be to buy her a new car once I had a job and the time to accumulate some savings after graduation from ECPI. And that's exactly what I was able to do. I remember it was a blue 1969 two door American Rambler with automatic transmission and power steering. She had that car until she was no longer able to drive, and it was still in good condition when that happened.
Added this paragraph on 12/05/2008
Carol and I were married April 11, 1969, in Mary Immaculate Catholic Church in Farmers Branch, Texas, a northern suburb of Dallas. Carol and her family lived just north of IH 635 just off Marsh Lane. We had a beautiful reception at Brookhaven Country Club, also in Farmers Branch. Carol's mom and dad had close friends who were members of the country club which made that possible. My best man was Denis Wolf, a person I met while on one of my leaves in New Jersey. He and my cousin, Annetta, were dating at the time and Denis became a penpal of my mother's. Denis and I have kept in touch over the years and we have visited he, or he and his wife, several times in various locations. Carol and I spent our first night in the Cabana Hotel in Dallas on IH 35, which has long since been replaced by something else. It was a fancy hotel at that time, but I think it changed names a few times before being torn down and replaced. Our honeymoon was our trip back to New York. Not exactly what you might expect these days, but as I recall we had a good time. I still remember a small motel in Montgomery, Alabama, one of the places where we stayed during that trip. We checked in and then parked in front of our room. I remember unlocking the door and pushing it open so I could step up and in with our bags. Before I could take that step the door hit something and slammed shut again. Then I opened it more slowly and discovered that the door hit the bed. We had to enter the room, through a partially open door, and proceed along the foot of the bed to get inside. Once there we could shut the door and discovered there was just enough room along the side of the bed to walk to get to the bath room which was behind the head of the bed. We laughed about that room set up for a long time. We stopped to visit Aunt Nellie and Uncle Ernie in Charlotte, North Carolina. They were a blast. He almost always had a chicken on the rotisserie grill in the back yard, and she would sit at her Hammond organ and play for hours. The windows were usually open and all the neighbors loved her to play, too. We may have stopped to visit John, Lois, Annetta, Johnny, and Judy Greenwood in New Jersey, too. We finally arrived in New York, our first home together. I know it sounds like it was a long trip, but it was really just what we could cram into a normal work vacation.
Added this paragraph on 12/05/2008
Carol and I lived in New York for seven months, during which time our goal was to see and do as much as we could while we were there. We planned outings for almost every weekend and for some of those we even had good weather. So many times, though, we had rainy or stormy weather. It was crazy. It seemed like bad weather would roll in about 4 PM Friday afternoon and last through Sunday night. I'll post some pictures later to illustrate my point. I need to convert them from 35mm slides to digital, but you'll see pictures of castles and arboretums with ominous black clouds in them. Hey, I said we had bad weather, I didn't say we stayed home. Two young newlyweds, just 20 miles from New York City, with all the surrounding sights to see? We really had fun. One of our passions became the New York Mets baseball team. We went to a couple of games at Shea Stadium when we felt like we could afford it, but many of the games we watched at home on TV. Picture this, a blanket on the floor in front of the set with a picnic lunch spread out before us. It was fun. And, in case you don't remember, the Mets won the World Series in 1969 against all odds. Just a bunch of young kids who didn't know they weren't supposed to win. One of those was a kid named Nolan Ryan from Texas, who later played for the Texas Rangers and set a new strike out record. Imagine that. Carol's sister, Lynn, flew up for a visit and I remember us going to a baseball game, walking along the streets of New York City like typical tourists, and driving up to Portland, and Peaks Island, Maine to visit Aunt Peg, Claudine and Paul, Buddy, and Teddy. We had a great time. Between Carol and I we have relatives scattered from Portland, Maine to Jacksonville, Florida, to San Diego, California, to Seattle, Washington. And a whole lot of states in between those. We should probably both retire so we can travel around and see them all.
Added this paragraph on 12/05/2008
As Fall 1969 approached, Carol had a health scare and we came to the stark realization that the doctors she knew and trusted, as well as the rest of her family, were all in Dallas. So, I dug out my list of names from job interviews compiled in January 1968 and began making phone calls. One of the companies I had interviewed with was very high on my list of choices. They actually had called me back for a follow up interview about 3 days after I started working for IBM. I told them it didn't make sense for me to do a follow up interview, but that I'd keep the recruiter's name and number for future reference. And that's what I did. I managed to reach EDS by phone and schedule an interview and they paid for Carol and I to fly to Dallas. They interviewed us both. Actually, I had a technical team interview followed by an executive interview while the executive's wife took Carol out for lunch and some window shopping. That's the way EDS did interviews in those days. It turned out to be a good match, and I started to work for EDS November 21, 1969 in Dallas, Texas. We found a nice little apartment at Valwood Apartments in Farmers Branch and the EDS office was at Harry Hines and Mockingbird in the Exchange Bank building which wasn't too long of a commute. It was great being back in Dallas. Carol was able to see her doctors and have the family near and I really enjoyed working with my fellow employees at EDS. During the Spring of 1970 we had another scare about Carol and this time the doctor recommended surgery (a biopsy, actually) to remove a section of tissue from Carol's breast. Even when all the tests come out negative, surgery, and the anticipation, is some of the most stressful time you can go through. I could not have worked for a more understanding company at that time. They let me take as much time as I needed to be with Carol and her family. They truly understood trust and loyalty, and knew that I would only take what I needed and then work my butt off to make sure they never regretted their decision. Carol was in a hospital just down Harry Hines from the office, so I was able to spend time with her through pretty much all of the visiting hours. There were times they would not let visitors stay and I'd just go back up the street to my office. Well, we made it through that scare and had another one several years later, but both times everything turned out to be benign. Fortunately, Carol and I have been blessed with overall good health.
Updated this paragraph on 12/16/2008
Early June, 1970, Carol was convinced she was pregnant. Even without the results from her doctor, she was so convinced that she told her dad. He was so excited about having a grandchild. Both he and her mom were. I remember being furious about her telling them so soon, and without the doctor's confirmation. That was probably our first heated discussion. What if it turned out not to be true? What if it was false? Oh, how I regret those feelings and that discussion. Carol's dad, Carl Conover, was out mowing his yard on June 21, 1970, when he had a sudden and massive heart attack and died. The paramedics said he was most likely dead before his body hit the ground. Dad (that's what I called him), I have apologized so many times for those feelings and I'm so glad Carol told you about your soon to be grandson before you passed away. Our son, Jim, was born March 8, 1971 in Dallas. Jim soon had a brother, Bob, and since Dad's watching, I know he knows that Lynn got married and they have two children.
Added this paragraph on 12/16/2008
I can't remember an exact date, but I believe mother moved to Dallas in 1970. She waited for us to get settled and then caught up with us. We spent a lot of time looking for a place she could afford, but everything we found was too big a stretch for her budget, or was unsafe or really junky. She did find some HUD housing that was in the right price range but the waiting list was very long. So, she ended up putting her name on the list and we kept hunting. Mother ended up with a room in a house in University Park where she was supposed to provide companionship for an older lady. The rent was either almost nothing, or nothing. We didn't know it then, but she should have been paid to stay there. The lady's daughter made these arrangements because she didn't want her mother, the older lady, to go to a nursing home, yet. We knew this was a temporary situation, but none of us really knew how tough this would be on mother. She didn't share all of her frustrations with us, but I know there were many. Mother ended up trying to be a full-time nanny for a lady who was very demanding. The daughter was very nice and probably didn't know what all my mother went through. My mother stayed in touch with the daughter and her family long after she moved out. I don't remember how long mother lived there, but I'm sure it seemed like forever to her. Her next move was to her very own apartment at Royal Lane Village Apartments, the HUD housing I mentioned previously. We were so happy to help her move in there and see her have her own place. She lived there the rest of her life.
I still have more to add here. I alternate between writing this page and scanning and documenting my mother's pictures and adding them to both her photo page and this one. A thumbnail sketch is: we have two sons, both married, and have two beautiful granddaughters. I took early retirement from EDS just short of 30 years because I didn't know what the company management was going to do in regards to department cuts. I took several weeks off, went back to work for MCI Worldcom, and then Lucent, got laid off, and now work for GoToLearn, a software educational assessment and tutorial manufacturer (www.gotolearn.org). Carol worked for Stewart Systems for about 16 years, got laid off in February and is looking for work. When she retires, I'll probably retire as well. Only time will tell.
Please come back from time to time and check my progress.