Saturday, July 5, 2014

“All my life I have lived and behaved very much like the sandpiper . . .

 just running down the edges of different countries and continents, looking for something.” 
                                                                                                                                         ― Elizabeth Bishop
                    “There's a race of men that don't fit in, 
                             A race that can't sit still;
                             So they break the hearts of kith and kin, 
                             And they roam the world at will.
                             They range the field and rove the flood, 
                             And they climb the mountain's crest; 
                             Their's is the curse of the gypsy blood, 
                             And they don't know how to rest.” 
                                                                                                  ― Robert W. Service

Erik,

     As you may remember, Poppa was consumed by wanderlust.  When he was in the US he couldn't get England out of his system, and when in England, he pined for America.  While in the States he was always wanting to move somewhere new, never happy where he was.  We moved quite a bit--Hickory, Statesville, Poughkeepsie, Cary, Huntsville, San Jose, and Hollister. 

     I don't think it was about a love of travel or even seeing and doing spectacular things; I think it was more a restlessness in him, his wanting to 'get on' and be successful.  That probably had a lot to do with having had a difficult childhood.  He always seemed to be running away from something, but I never knew what.
                                                                                                          Mom


Momma remembers:

     "Frank was always going to the local library looking in out-of-state newspapers at the 'help wanted' sections.  He found an ad for a company in New York looking for an engineer.  He sent his resume, and the company, which turned out to be IBM, hired him, and that is how we moved to Poughkeepsie.

     We left Statesvile in March 1964.  In Poughkeepsie, we stayed in a motor motel (a hotel designed for motorists) with cottages clustered around a pond.  The temperatures went way down below zero, so Barbara, Maureen, and Frank were able to ice skate, a novelty coming from the South.
     We arrived in a blizzard.  When Frank awoke the first morning of his new job, the temperature had dropped to 28 below zero, and our car, an older Oldsmobile, wouldn't start.  He was so scared he'd lose his job if he didn't show up for work, so he walked!  The plant was only about two miles away, but it was 28 below zero!  When he finally got there, and his coworkers heard that he'd walked, they told him he could've died.  Someone from work gave him a ride back to the motel, and the motel owner ran him to work whenever the car wouldn't start.  We stayed at the motel about 3-4 weeks.
     We had a bit of a rough start.  Maureen and Barbara were entertaining Darryl, swinging him about in the motel room, and he hit his head on the sharp corner of a coffee table.  We had to rush to the emergency room to get him stitched up.
     Eventually we bought and moved into a split level house at 46 Nassau Road in a planned development called Crown Heights.  Since we had no family and no friends in New York, we would go sightseeing at every opportunity.  We loved the countryside in New York. It reminded us so much of Derbyshire in England with dry stacked stone walls dividing the properties.
     Once we took a week long car trip to Niagara Falls and the Finger Lakes and enjoyed a boat ride on one of the lakes.  Upstate New York was beautiful, so we took advantage of all there was to see. I also enjoyed the food there, so different from the South. At the local market I would chat with the butcher and the fishmonger; he was amazed that I could name all the fish."


     The Finger Lakes are a pattern of lakes in the west-central section of Upstate New York.  They are a popular tourist destination. The lakes are long and narrow (resembling fingers), and are oriented roughly on a north-south axis.







     "I think moving to Poughkeepsie put us on our feet financially.  It was a good move."

                                                                                                            --Joan Shelton


Maureen's memories of Poughkeepsie--


     "I enjoyed living in Poughkeepsie and made good friends at Spackenkill Junior HIgh School--Debbie Purdy, Eileen Tritschler, Ann Smythe, and Martha Van Buren.  Debbie and I lived the closest to each other and would bike to each other's homes, or ask a parent to drive us to the local mall to shop or go to a movie.

     IBM had a country club for their employees with a club house, golf course, and, in the Winter, an outdoor ice skating rink.  Barbara and I would walk up there and sled down the golf course hills when we got a good snowfall, and I would go there to ice skate.  They would also host musical groups for entertainment, and it was there, when I was 15, that I saw Diana Ross and the Supremes and The Dixie Cups.
The Dixie Cups are an American pop music girl
group of the 1960s.  They are best known for
their 1964 million-selling record
"Chapel of Love."
    
     We went to Zion Episcopal Church in Wappinger Falls, a nearby town.  One Sunday morning, Mam, Barbara, Darryl and I came home from church, and Dad, who wasn't much of a church goer, had for some reason decided to give Mitzi, our standard poodle a haircut.  He had sheared the poor dog to the skin, and we were all mad at him for a week.
     We did sightsee a lot while living in New York.  We went to West Point Military Academy, drove along the Hudson River, to Hyde Park, Franklin Delano Roosevelt's house, toured the Catskill Mountains, the Fingerlakes, and visited a Santa's village in upstate New York.


Santa's Village, North Pole, N.Y.

     We had nice neighbors across the street,  Tony and Maurice.  Her father owned a bakery, and she brought us the best brownies, thick with chocolate frosting, and from time to time, a deep dish style pizza.  It was more of a focaccia style bread with tomato sauce and cheese on it, but no other toppings.

   They had no children, so perhaps doted on the three of us.  I remember when President Kennedy was assassinated, Tony, who worked in a book publishers, bought us each a commemorative book, The Torch is Passed.

   


     In 1965 Mom went back to England on an IBM charter flight, taking Darryl with her.  Her flight left from Dulles in Washington, D.C., so we drove down there from New York, and after seeing her off, Dad took Barbara and me to see the sights around and including the Lincoln Memorial.   We also stopped in New York City on the way back home, and he took us up the Empire State Building and on a boat ride around Manhattan.



     Mam especially enjoyed New York; she found the people and culture there more like England than in the South. "

Monday, February 17, 2014

"Never underestimate the power of a woman . . .

                                                                                                  with a sewing machine."

Erik,

     This page is really an excuse to include photos that didn't fit anywhere else.  As I was looking through old photos I noticed that there were a lot of me and Maureen in outfits that Momma had made for us.  If you remember she left school at 14 and started working as a seamstress at Clark's Factory in Nottingham. 
     When we came to the States, Mam continued making nearly all our clothes.  I remember begging for a store bought dress.  I've included a picture of that dress below.  Maureen says Mam never used a pattern when she made outfits for us!
                                                                                                                    Mom
1959, Easter outfits with mataching hats and, in my
case, a matching purse
For Easter 1961, Momma made these suits.
Maureen's was lavender and white, mine
was green and white.



On the back, Dad had written,"This is up at
Blowing Rock Park, taken on the look-out
tower.  Don't they look nice?"
July 1959 at Viewmont Apartments,
Hickory, N.C.


Taken in Hickory, N.C. at the Viewmont
Apartments.  Maureen's dress was bought
at  Sears in Hickory.  Mam made Barbara's
dress and knitted her sweater.




                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     


I begged for this store bought dress.  It was mint
green with rose colored flowers embroidered on
the bodice and sleeves.


Monday, January 20, 2014

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred . . .

and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.
                                                                              --Laura Ingalls Wilder


Momma's memories of Christmas as a child--

     "Christmas, when I was a child, was family time.  I remember my Mam did a lot of cooking but still managed to make knitted outfits for Christmas dolls and clothes for me and, later, for Molly.  One Christmas I got a doll with beautiful hand knit outfits; another year I received a black doll dressed in a red knitted outfit--I thought she was so beautiful.  Molly was born at home Christmas morning, 1932, and because I was only 5 years old, I was taken to Aunty Ginny's (Nanna's sister) until one of my older sisters came to fetch me back home.
     We had a very small tree; Mam would put it on top of a high bookcase so the cat could not pull it over.  We would string intricate, gaily colored garlands from each corner of the room to the light fixture in the middle, like spokes on a wheel.  I don't think Mam appreciated them much. We had no clothes dryer in those days, and since it was impossible to dry things outside in England in the Winter, a clothes line was strung across the main room when we went to bed at night, and the sheets and towels were hung up to dry overnight.  It was a jumble to have all those holiday garlands and washing hanging about, especially because the custom in England was to leave decorations up until the evening of January 5, the eve of the Epiphany (when the three wise men visited the baby Jesus) and formerly the twelfth and last day of Christmas festivities.  I know Mam could hardly wait to get those garlands down.
In the 1930's the chocolate makers added novelty
items to the holiday selection packs,
such as this clock (center)

     Molly and I, the two youngest, always received the same gifts in a white pillow slip tied with a big red bow and placed on the bottom of our bed.  We were awake by 5 a.m., eagerly going through those pillow slips.  We always received a huge Selection box of Cadbury's or Rowntree's chocolates, games, books and clothes.
     Before the war food was abundant at the holidays and included mince pies, fruit cake with marzipan and royal icing, a Christmas plum pudding with custard on top, and a large pork pie for Christmas breakfast.

British Christmas cake--fruit
cake with marzipan and Royal
icing
   




























     Usually Christmas dinner was eaten midday and was a goose or a pork roast.  A light 'tea' would be served around 5 p.m.  Auntie Ginny, Mary, and Uncle Tom always came for tea and afterwards the grown-ups would play cards. Molly and I didn't care much for Uncle Tom because he was such a grouch, so we would look at his cards and then signal with our eyes to the other players. Eventually he caught on, threw his cards down, and stormed off.  We all felt so sorry for Auntie Ginny, and I think Mam and Dad only tolerated Uncle Tom for Ginny and Mary's sake.

     The stores in Nottingham had wonderful Christmas displays; Molly and I would go in, sit down, and go on a 'journey' to the North Pole; one Christmas the ride was a 'submarine.'  It was magical, and as we exited the ride, we'd always receive a gift from Santa.


a modern day indoor Christmas market in Nottingham
     On Christmas Eve, Mam and Dad would take us to Nottingham's indoor Christmas market to buy a Christmas goose.  Mam was a savvy shopper, always looking for a bargain.
She'd hang around around until nearly closing time, then zero in on the goose she wanted.  While we waited, we'd stuff ourselves with mushy peas.  The shop owner would put the goose in a large straw bag with its head hanging over the side; we'd ride the tram from the city center back to Arnold, walk home, and then Mam would go to work cleaning that bird and getting it ready for the oven next morning.



     When the war started everything changed--no more glittering shop displays because everything was blacked out to prevent lights being seen by the enemy during an air raid.  As the war progressed we were also under more and more severe rationing, so it paid to stay in touch with the butcher and anyone local who raised poultry.  We were more fortunate than others.  Since Dad was a blacksmith, he kept in contact with two or three farmers for whom he did work and was able to barter his work for meat, vegetables, eggs and other things not available with ration cards.

A child sleeps in an air raid shelter festooned with Christmas
decorations--a not uncommon sight during the war
     I was 12 when the war started and 18 when it ended.  At 14 I left school and started working as a seamstress at Clark's Factory.
They made undergarments; I ran an embroidery machine.
     From ages 14-17 I lived with my older sister, Win; her husband Les was away with the Navy.  She was fearful and wanted someone with her.  I did not enjoy it, but did it to spare Mam from having to go and stay with her.


During WWII Westminster Council, London, offered
a prize for the best dressed shelter.  These occupants
have used Christmas decorations and flags, as well as
portraits of the King and Queen and Winston
Churchill--20th. December 1940
     I mentioned above that I had a cat that would try to pull over the Christmas tree.  The cat's name was Lucky and she was one of 3-4 black cats that I had, each named Lucky.
     Uncle Les worked at a Co-op grocery store early in the war years.  The Co-op had cats to keep the mice population down in their food storage areas.  There were always kittens available.  He brought me the first Lucky, and when she got hit by a car on Front Street, he came the next day with Lucky 2 in a paper sack. They would run away or get killed and he'd show up with another--always named Lucky and always black!

     On Boxing Day, usually the day after Christmas, Mam would buy two rabbits from the butcher, hang them up on a big hook in the kitchen, skin then, chop off their heads, clean out the insides, stuff them, and bake them for our dinner.  Dadda would have rabbit brains on toast for breakfast.
                       --Joan Shelton
(Wow, that is one family tradition I'm thankful we no longer observe!)


Bit of history:  

Boxing Day--"In Britain, it was a custom for tradesmen to collect 'Christmas boxes' of money or presents on the first weekday after Christmas as thanks for good service throughout the year.  This custom is linked to an older English tradition: since they would have to wait on their masters on Christmas Day, the servants of the wealthy were allowed the next day to visit their families. The employers would give each servant a box to take home containing gifts and bonuses, and maybe sometimes leftover food.