The Weather Channel and Channel 2, NYC are programming non stop about the "Frankenstorm" coming in on the East Coast. Everyone, I'm sure, is praying that people are careful and few lives are lost. But it reminds me of a big storm in the summer before I started First Grade, 1942.
Dad was at work, Mother had gone downtown to a 'Dollar Day' sale and our cousin, Verna Mae Johnson, who lived next door to us - we were living on Smith Street - was babysitting us. "Us" is the oldest four, Me, Russ, Judy and four month old Richard. It was a calm July day when my mother left. It was the day after her birthday and Dad had sent her a dozen roses, The vase of flowers was on top of the piano. The piano was on the inside wall across from the windows. The storm just seemed to come out of nowhere and the basement was really a cellar and the door to it was on the back porch. Verna elected to take us to one of the upstairs bedrooms. I can remember being so afraid and she asked all of us to pray.
The cyclone was so strong that it pulled the siding off the west side of the house and broke the windows in the living room. Unbelievably, the vase of flowers across the room stayed in place.
Mother said later that the storm broke out the windows at Bergners and they were advertising fur coats for winter and the coats were blown out of the displays and on the street from the wind. As soon as she could, she got on the streetcar and headed home. We were really thrilled to see her.
I was afraid of storms for years, panicky even, in fact, I stayed afraid until Leah was born. I didn't want my children to be as scared as I was and so calmed myself to be able to keep them calm. Amazing how we cure our fears.
The rest of the story........Mother felt so bad that she was not at home when the storm was happening that she took the three oldest of her children to the movies - our first time in a theater. Richard stayed home with Dad. The movie was "The Wizard of Oz" and when the storm in the beginning happened, Russ, Judy and I dived under our seats and started crying. Mother tried to sooth us and she had a difficult time convincing us to sit on top of the seats instead of cowering under them. And, of course, in a little while the movie changed to color and we slowly calmed down. I know the movie is a classic but it has never been one of my favorites. It may be psychological!!
Monday, October 29, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Door to Door Salesman
While waiting for the light to change at the corner of War Memorial and Sheridan Road, I noticed the big flag at Great American Insurance and glanced to my right and noticed an insurance agency and my mind went hopscotching down memory lane. It reminded me of when the Prudential Insurance Agent would come to the house each month and collect on Vern's Family Policy. That made me think of other people who would come to the house as part of 'their route'.
My parents had Prudential Insurance and they sent around their Insurance Man to sell us a policy when we were married just a couple of months. He would come in the evening, as we both worked during the day. I vaguely remember the Agent coming to the house on Maxwell Road, adding a new name to the family plan each year!
We had two house and car insurance agents in all the years of our marriage. Al somebody, who was an agent who lived in Farmington, he was a friend of Harold Heimbaugh, who built our house on Maxwell Road and then for many years Ed Murray, our friend in Washington. Kind of an interesting story. We had moved to Washington, Al was still our agent and we would see him once a year. The year I was forty, I was listed in three auto accidents. No. 1, was that I had cut the corner too close coming away from Church, and scratched someones car's fender, No. 2, I crossed Route 24 at Spring Creek Road and did not see an oncoming car. I really don't know where that car came from but I felt really bad because it was a brand new car and they were leaving the next day on vacation. and No. 3, Mary was just learning to drive and went to back the car out of the barn - that's where we parked then - and hit the barn door and knocked it down. There was damage to the taillight and bumper. I took the blame as she didn't have her license. Al came out. I remember him sitting at the picnic table in the back yard, smoking a cigarette and painfully telling me that the company was cancelling our insurance because statistics showed that women in their forties were more prone to accidents because that is when they started drinking heavily. Honestly, that is what he said. Ed Murray and his companies didn't care if I was an alcoholic or not!!! When I moved to Peoria and Ed retired, I switched to someone here in town.
The milkman. When we were kids on the South side, our milkman was Chuck Florey who worked for Schierers Dairy. I remember how while he was delivering milk, we siblings would reach in the back of the truck for small chunks of ice to suck on or throw at each other. When Leah was born and we lived West of Peoria, just past Bellevue, Harold Stafford was the route person for his family dairy. What a dear man he was. The front door was always unlocked and he would bring the milk in and put it in the fridge. I was usually bathing a baby when he came. He thought those little girls were something. He had a son with a blood disorder, his wife had died from the same disease. Years later, when Vern and one of the daughters was buying a car, Harold was working at a dealership. Milk delivery stopped when Milk Stores became popular. Staffords and Schierers both had stores locally. I noticed a metal milk carrier in the basement the other day.
When we lived on the Southside, we had people come to sell portraits in your home, meat - never bought any of that, vegetables - we grew our own and, of course, the neighbor kids selling candy, Holy Childhood Stamps, etc. - I'm still open to neighbor kids selling magazines or Cub Scout popcorn.
One time a man - very Arab looking - came to the door selling bed spreads. Ugly, light weight, cheap looking, blue and gold ones with gold fringe. He knocked on the door and one of the daughters opened it and invited him in. The bed spreads weren't exactly my taste and I slowly tried to walk him back out the door. The spreads were ten dollars a piece and I thanked him but said: "No, not interested". By this time, all six of the daughters were gathered around the dining room table, they thought the spreads were beautiful - and said so. He started in telling me he was from the Middle East and he sent the money he earned back to his family. I thanked him, but told him: "Not interested"! Then he began to tell me that the money went to buy milk for his family and he missed his family so much - really laying it on thick. Well, by this time our little girls were in tears and started telling me that I should buy from him to buy milk for his family. I told him, I didn't have any cash in the house and he said he would take a check. "Give him a check, Mama, so he can buy milk for his children", the daughters were hiccuping sadly. So I did! For some God awful reason, I bought two of them. $20.00. The children were delighted, Vern was not. He told all our friends, and I was the butt of a lot of jokes for being made a fool of. I got my revenge - of a sort. We had a New Years Eve party that year and after every one had arrived, I went upstairs and put on my new caftan that I had made from part of one of the bedspreads and wore it at the party. As I remember it started to unravel before the night was over. Lots of laughter.
Door to door salesman, times have changed.
My parents had Prudential Insurance and they sent around their Insurance Man to sell us a policy when we were married just a couple of months. He would come in the evening, as we both worked during the day. I vaguely remember the Agent coming to the house on Maxwell Road, adding a new name to the family plan each year!
We had two house and car insurance agents in all the years of our marriage. Al somebody, who was an agent who lived in Farmington, he was a friend of Harold Heimbaugh, who built our house on Maxwell Road and then for many years Ed Murray, our friend in Washington. Kind of an interesting story. We had moved to Washington, Al was still our agent and we would see him once a year. The year I was forty, I was listed in three auto accidents. No. 1, was that I had cut the corner too close coming away from Church, and scratched someones car's fender, No. 2, I crossed Route 24 at Spring Creek Road and did not see an oncoming car. I really don't know where that car came from but I felt really bad because it was a brand new car and they were leaving the next day on vacation. and No. 3, Mary was just learning to drive and went to back the car out of the barn - that's where we parked then - and hit the barn door and knocked it down. There was damage to the taillight and bumper. I took the blame as she didn't have her license. Al came out. I remember him sitting at the picnic table in the back yard, smoking a cigarette and painfully telling me that the company was cancelling our insurance because statistics showed that women in their forties were more prone to accidents because that is when they started drinking heavily. Honestly, that is what he said. Ed Murray and his companies didn't care if I was an alcoholic or not!!! When I moved to Peoria and Ed retired, I switched to someone here in town.
The milkman. When we were kids on the South side, our milkman was Chuck Florey who worked for Schierers Dairy. I remember how while he was delivering milk, we siblings would reach in the back of the truck for small chunks of ice to suck on or throw at each other. When Leah was born and we lived West of Peoria, just past Bellevue, Harold Stafford was the route person for his family dairy. What a dear man he was. The front door was always unlocked and he would bring the milk in and put it in the fridge. I was usually bathing a baby when he came. He thought those little girls were something. He had a son with a blood disorder, his wife had died from the same disease. Years later, when Vern and one of the daughters was buying a car, Harold was working at a dealership. Milk delivery stopped when Milk Stores became popular. Staffords and Schierers both had stores locally. I noticed a metal milk carrier in the basement the other day.
When we lived on the Southside, we had people come to sell portraits in your home, meat - never bought any of that, vegetables - we grew our own and, of course, the neighbor kids selling candy, Holy Childhood Stamps, etc. - I'm still open to neighbor kids selling magazines or Cub Scout popcorn.
One time a man - very Arab looking - came to the door selling bed spreads. Ugly, light weight, cheap looking, blue and gold ones with gold fringe. He knocked on the door and one of the daughters opened it and invited him in. The bed spreads weren't exactly my taste and I slowly tried to walk him back out the door. The spreads were ten dollars a piece and I thanked him but said: "No, not interested". By this time, all six of the daughters were gathered around the dining room table, they thought the spreads were beautiful - and said so. He started in telling me he was from the Middle East and he sent the money he earned back to his family. I thanked him, but told him: "Not interested"! Then he began to tell me that the money went to buy milk for his family and he missed his family so much - really laying it on thick. Well, by this time our little girls were in tears and started telling me that I should buy from him to buy milk for his family. I told him, I didn't have any cash in the house and he said he would take a check. "Give him a check, Mama, so he can buy milk for his children", the daughters were hiccuping sadly. So I did! For some God awful reason, I bought two of them. $20.00. The children were delighted, Vern was not. He told all our friends, and I was the butt of a lot of jokes for being made a fool of. I got my revenge - of a sort. We had a New Years Eve party that year and after every one had arrived, I went upstairs and put on my new caftan that I had made from part of one of the bedspreads and wore it at the party. As I remember it started to unravel before the night was over. Lots of laughter.
Door to door salesman, times have changed.
Monday, October 22, 2012
The SINGING NUNS
In St. Patricks Parish in Washington, Il, we had CEW weekends. CEW stands for Christian Experience Weekend. It was very similar to Cursillo but on a local parish scale. We slept on cots in the basement of the school, ate, prayed and laughed and prayed some more. A wonderful experience. Here in St. Thomas Parish, they do a similar weekend called WATCH.
Every year we had a Christmas party at the Knights of Columbus Hall that started with a prayer service and then a meal and after the meal, everyone got up and left. The group above was in charge of the dinner one year and we felt we should have some entertainment to encourage people to stay around and socialize. My friend, Sharon Durkee, had told me that a group of women at St. Bernard's in Peoria had dressed like religious sisters and sang along with the songs to the movie "Sister Act". When I suggested this to the group, they were on board immediately. In one of the Church's 'Cry Room' closets were some old gray choir robes and about every five years, the Washington High School Theater Department does "The Sound of Music", so we asked to borrow the scapulars, wimples and veils and they gave them to us to use. We originally called ourselves "The Moron Nab An Apple Choir" and instead of a cross on a chain as many religious orders wear, we hung a red apple on a brown cord. Someone felt that the name was not politically correct, so we just became "The Singing Nuns"
After the meal and some lovely other entertainment, the room darkened, the tape player began to play a Gregorian Chant from the soundtrack of "Sister Act" and in we walked, heads down lip syncing along. At first, people were quiet and respectful, and then they began to realize who we were. We started our set with "My Guy", and then "I will Follow Him" - appropriate chorography included - and by the time we exited with "Shout", the crowd was with us. Lots of fun!
Now here's the rest of the story......Florence Linsley was in the KC bar that evening and when she heard the laughter, peeked in and saw us. She asked us to perform at the store's annual Christmas party and we said for $100. She said: "You got it!" That was the start. Someone else would see us perform and want us for an event. We performed for Archbishop Myers several times and an event at OSF. The $100.00 fees went into a 'kitty' and when we heard someone was going through a particularly hard time or there was a fund raiser for something special, the money was contributed. After about a year, I dropped out of the group but new people joined and the 'nuns' continued to perform around the area for several years and contribute their fee to good causes. The choir robes remained, but they made their own veils, etc. instead of borrowing the High School's. We had a lot of fun, 'pee-run' laughter, and met some interesting people along the way. When we get together, we still laugh at some of our performances. I love women, especially those with adventure in their souls.
Friday, October 19, 2012
PEORIA FIRSTS
When we started the History Trolley Tours - Gloria LaHood, Steve Tartar and myself - I was given a lot of information. Some from the writings of Ernest East, Millie Bryant and Gloria plus research I did at the downtown Library. Gloria laid out the route and I took the information and wrote the script following her direction. One of the pages compiled and written by Millie and Syd Eslinger was of Peoria's Firsts. It follows.
BURIAL: Soldier from Fort Clark - 1812
MALE SETTLER: Josiah Fulton, Abner Eads and five companions - 1819
FEMALE SETTLER: Rebecca Eads, wife of Abner - 1819
SCHOOL: Cabin on riverbank below Water Street - 1821
LAWYER: John Bogardus - 1822
FACTORY: Chairs - 1823
BLACKSMITH: William Holland (later founded Washington, Il) - 1823
BOOTLEGGER FINED: Samuel Dougherty (fined for selling whiskey to Native Americans) - 1823
MARRIAGE: William Blanchard and Elizabeth Donahue - 1825
ELECTION: 1825
POST OFFICE: 1825
COURT HELD: (In a log building on the bank of the river with Judge Yourk presiding) - 1825
FLOUR MILL: Erected by John Hamlin on Kickapoo Creek - 1830
REGULAR STEAMBOAT RUN - 1832
PHYSICIAN: Dr. Augustus Langworthy - 1833
NEWSPAPER: Illinois Champion Peoria Herald (located on Water St. between Hamilton and Main) - 1834
JAIL: 1834
VILLAGE PRESIDENT: Dr. Rudolphus Rouse - 1835
PROTESTANT CHURCH ERECTED - Presbyterian - 1835
MEAT PACKING PLANT: Along the river in south part of town - 1837
BREWERY: Located corner of Water & Bridge St. run by Frederick Muller - 1838
DISTILLERY: Located on Water St. between Main and Fulton run by A.S. Cole - 1845
ELECTED MAYOR: William Hale - 1845
ORGANIZED FIRE COMPANY: Two fire engines with a hose bought by city at a cost of $1200 - 1846
BANK: Started by Phelps and Bourland - 1847
TELEGRAPH MESSAGE: Between Peoria and St. Louis - 1848
FIRST BRIDGE: A foot bridge over Peoria Lake - 1849
LEGAL EXECUTION: Thomas Brown and George Williams hanged for robbing and killing a cattle buyer - 1851
STREET LIGHTS: Fifty erected by Peoria Gas, Light and Coke Co. - 1853
RAILROAD: From Chicago via Peoria, Bureau Valley RR - 1854
PUBLIC LIBRARY: 1858
FREE MAIL DELIVERY: 1873
ELECTRIC LIGHT: Hamilton and Adams - 1879
TELEPHONE COMPANY STARTED: Allair Rayburn Co.. 1879
TELEPHONE DIRECTORY - 1880
BRICK PAVEMENT: Hamilton St. between Adams and Monroe - 1885
AVIATOR TO VISIT PEORIA: Walter Brookings - 1910
FIRST PEORIAN AIRPLANE PASSENGER: Miss Myrtle Grunert - 1911
BURIAL: Soldier from Fort Clark - 1812
MALE SETTLER: Josiah Fulton, Abner Eads and five companions - 1819
FEMALE SETTLER: Rebecca Eads, wife of Abner - 1819
SCHOOL: Cabin on riverbank below Water Street - 1821
LAWYER: John Bogardus - 1822
FACTORY: Chairs - 1823
BLACKSMITH: William Holland (later founded Washington, Il) - 1823
BOOTLEGGER FINED: Samuel Dougherty (fined for selling whiskey to Native Americans) - 1823
MARRIAGE: William Blanchard and Elizabeth Donahue - 1825
ELECTION: 1825
POST OFFICE: 1825
COURT HELD: (In a log building on the bank of the river with Judge Yourk presiding) - 1825
FLOUR MILL: Erected by John Hamlin on Kickapoo Creek - 1830
REGULAR STEAMBOAT RUN - 1832
PHYSICIAN: Dr. Augustus Langworthy - 1833
NEWSPAPER: Illinois Champion Peoria Herald (located on Water St. between Hamilton and Main) - 1834
JAIL: 1834
VILLAGE PRESIDENT: Dr. Rudolphus Rouse - 1835
PROTESTANT CHURCH ERECTED - Presbyterian - 1835
MEAT PACKING PLANT: Along the river in south part of town - 1837
BREWERY: Located corner of Water & Bridge St. run by Frederick Muller - 1838
DISTILLERY: Located on Water St. between Main and Fulton run by A.S. Cole - 1845
ELECTED MAYOR: William Hale - 1845
ORGANIZED FIRE COMPANY: Two fire engines with a hose bought by city at a cost of $1200 - 1846
BANK: Started by Phelps and Bourland - 1847
TELEGRAPH MESSAGE: Between Peoria and St. Louis - 1848
FIRST BRIDGE: A foot bridge over Peoria Lake - 1849
LEGAL EXECUTION: Thomas Brown and George Williams hanged for robbing and killing a cattle buyer - 1851
STREET LIGHTS: Fifty erected by Peoria Gas, Light and Coke Co. - 1853
RAILROAD: From Chicago via Peoria, Bureau Valley RR - 1854
PUBLIC LIBRARY: 1858
FREE MAIL DELIVERY: 1873
ELECTRIC LIGHT: Hamilton and Adams - 1879
TELEPHONE COMPANY STARTED: Allair Rayburn Co.. 1879
TELEPHONE DIRECTORY - 1880
BRICK PAVEMENT: Hamilton St. between Adams and Monroe - 1885
AVIATOR TO VISIT PEORIA: Walter Brookings - 1910
FIRST PEORIAN AIRPLANE PASSENGER: Miss Myrtle Grunert - 1911
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Stories From Vern
The last of the stories Vern wrote about growing up on a farm in Missouri in the late 1940's.
Hog Butchering
Butchering 1 hog required about 3 days of labor. The first day was preparatory. Getting the 55 gallon steel barrel out, setting it on raised beams, filling it with water and securing enough wood to get the water scalding hot. The second day a fire was made under the barrel and when the water was steaming hot, the hog was shot with a .22 rifle. Then a block and tackle was used to hoist the carcass up from a tree branch. Dad opened up the carcass and removed the insides. Then the block and tackle was relocated over the barrel, the carcass raised and lowered into the steaming hot water. After the carcass was scalded good, the fire was put out and the barrel moved out of the way. Then the carcass was scraped to remove all the hair. Its about lunch time now and we always had pork liver and onions plus vegetables, home made bread and homemade butter for lunch on butchering day. After lunch, Dad split the pork carcass in two and it was left hanging from the tree to cool till the next morning. On the third day, Dad cut the carcass up. Shoulders, hams, bacon sides, pork chops, neck bones, ham hocks, and fat. This was a hard day for Mom. The fat she cut into 1 inch cubes and put them in a kettle on the cook stove to render out for the lard. The lard was put into mason jars and sealed. All of the scraps of meat and some of the pork loin was ground up for sausage. Us kids turned the sausage grinder and Dad weighed each batch, added the proper amount of seasoning which consisted of red pepper, black pepper, sage and salt. He blended this together and then Mom made them into patties, fried them and put them in mason jars, filled the jar with boiling lard and sealed. The hams, bacon slabs, shoulders, ham hocks and some of the pork loin was taken to the smoke house were Dad rubbed them with a mixture of salt and brown sugar, and built a hickory wood chip fire under the meat. Not to hot so as to cook but more for the smoke. The smoldering fire was kept going 24 hours a day and each day Dad would rub down the meat with more of the salt and brown sugar mixture. If I remember correctly this curing process took about 7 days. The head and various other parts were de-boned and Mom made a gelatin meat loaf that was sour and was called 'Souse'. Very little of the pig was not used by the Mall family. What was not usable was taken to the back side of the farm where in a few days that was gone, eaten by the scavengers. This rendering (pun intended) of how processing meat was done makes us more appreciative that we can go to a refrigerated cooler at the local grocer and buy a wrapped round of sausage, or a prepackaged pound of bacon. Life is good!
This was the church that we went to. It was located in the city of Marshfield, Missouri. Mom and Dad were as active in this church as they were at Sacred Heart in Kansas City, Kansas. Dad helped Maintain this church. The hope of the Parishioners, to build a new church, was supported by the Mall family. The church had a building fund called 'God's Little Acre'. Each year Mom and Dad donated a 2 year old calf to this fund. Every Sunday after Mass all of the Parishioners lingered outside the church to visit. Uncle Paul and Aunt Mamie Beeker Bader, their daughter, Frances Bader Goeden and her husband Joe, Joe Goeden's parents, Mr and Mrs Goeden were the relatives that mostly only got to see each other once a week. In the year that we did not have automobile transportation because of the tire shortage, we did not go to church. If we did, it was for a special occasion and by horse and wagon. Catholic education was held in the Pastor's house on Sundays after church, and for one week during the summer. When I married Vern, across the street from the Church lived the parents of their son-in-law, Claude Young. So I remember walking across the street to visit with them as well. Mr. Young was very outgoing and gregarious, Mrs Young was quiet and one of the sweetest women I ever met. Their son, Claude, was a mixture of both. When Mary Lorene first moved to Marshfield, one of the local boys told her that it was okay to date about anyone but to stay away from Claude Young. Claude Young was one of my favorite people.
There is a newer Church in town now. Built in the 1970s.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Growing Up in Greertown
More of Vern's stories of growing up in Southern Missouri in the late 1940s. He wrote these for his grandchildren and I add them for his nieces and nephews as well. Also it's a good history of a way of life few know these days.
Greer Canning Family
Down the road, CR632, at the bottom of the hill, was Greer Creek. Next to this creek was Greer Canning Factory. During the tomato canning season, all the neighbor ladies worked at the factory. The farmers who grew tomatoes as a sideline, would bring the tomatoes to the factory by a team of horses and wagons. Doug Greer ran the factory, he scalded the tomatoes, the ladies peeled and quartered them, and put them in wooden buckets. They got paid 5 cents a bucket. Dad used to put the tomatoes into cans, put a lid on top, and put them into the sealing machine. He also maintained the one and only sealing machine in the factory. The tomato cans were then put in big wire baskets and the baskets were raised and lowered by chain fall into the cooking vats which were set over a wood fire. A boiler and steam engine supplied power to the sealer machine. Dad also maintained the steam engine. The factory had a steam whistle, and when tomatoes were needed, Doug Greer would blow the whistle. This was a signal to the farmers that more tomatoes were needed. On the way home from school us kids all stopped by the factory for a tomato or two. A salt shaker was kept just inside the door for anyone wanting to eat a tomato.
When I came into the family in 1955, the canning factory was a tangle of corrugated metal and weeds just past the bridge over the creek. Greertown was the name of the area where the family farm was located. The matriarch was Aunt Ella Greer who lived in a wonderful old house at the top of a hill on the left before getting to 'Linger Longer' Farm - the name on the mail box at Tony and Clara's.
The Dairy Operation
We started with 7 or so milk cows and 1 bull. In a few years the herd was up to 15. Dad, Elmer and I milked the cows by hand, twice a day, 7 days a week and 365 days a year. Except leap year, when we milked 366 days! My 3 cows to milk was Rosie, Buttercup and Dixie. I think this is what soured me on dairy farming, never have a day off. Each year, Mom and Dad would give us a calf for helping out around the farm. Mary Lorene got hers the first year after we moved down to the farm, Elmer got his the second year and I got mine the third year. Mary Lorene sold hers and used the money to go to college. Elmer and I kept ours, and started growing our own herds. I had trouble with my heifer. She would carry a calf for about six months and then miss-carry. On the 3rd try, Dad said that if she miss-carried that calf we would sell her and he would give me another cow. She carried it full term and produced a healthy calf. We needed a new bull so I bought a Shorthorn calf from a neighbor. Paid $12.00 for him and named him
snowball. Dad thought that was too much for a calf, but we wanted to get some beef cattle strains in our herd so it was acceptable. We used him as the herd sire for several years and then I sold him for $130.00
The Picture of me and Snowball was taken about 1947 or 48. Of course we had chickens and pigs. The chickens were used for meat and eggs and the pigs we sold except for the two we butchered each year. We also had a team of horses, Barney and Bess. All of our equipment was horse drawn. We had a 4 wheel wagon, a two wheel cart, a sickle bar mower, dump rake and a 1 row corn planter.
Greer Canning Family
Down the road, CR632, at the bottom of the hill, was Greer Creek. Next to this creek was Greer Canning Factory. During the tomato canning season, all the neighbor ladies worked at the factory. The farmers who grew tomatoes as a sideline, would bring the tomatoes to the factory by a team of horses and wagons. Doug Greer ran the factory, he scalded the tomatoes, the ladies peeled and quartered them, and put them in wooden buckets. They got paid 5 cents a bucket. Dad used to put the tomatoes into cans, put a lid on top, and put them into the sealing machine. He also maintained the one and only sealing machine in the factory. The tomato cans were then put in big wire baskets and the baskets were raised and lowered by chain fall into the cooking vats which were set over a wood fire. A boiler and steam engine supplied power to the sealer machine. Dad also maintained the steam engine. The factory had a steam whistle, and when tomatoes were needed, Doug Greer would blow the whistle. This was a signal to the farmers that more tomatoes were needed. On the way home from school us kids all stopped by the factory for a tomato or two. A salt shaker was kept just inside the door for anyone wanting to eat a tomato.
When I came into the family in 1955, the canning factory was a tangle of corrugated metal and weeds just past the bridge over the creek. Greertown was the name of the area where the family farm was located. The matriarch was Aunt Ella Greer who lived in a wonderful old house at the top of a hill on the left before getting to 'Linger Longer' Farm - the name on the mail box at Tony and Clara's.
The Dairy Operation
We started with 7 or so milk cows and 1 bull. In a few years the herd was up to 15. Dad, Elmer and I milked the cows by hand, twice a day, 7 days a week and 365 days a year. Except leap year, when we milked 366 days! My 3 cows to milk was Rosie, Buttercup and Dixie. I think this is what soured me on dairy farming, never have a day off. Each year, Mom and Dad would give us a calf for helping out around the farm. Mary Lorene got hers the first year after we moved down to the farm, Elmer got his the second year and I got mine the third year. Mary Lorene sold hers and used the money to go to college. Elmer and I kept ours, and started growing our own herds. I had trouble with my heifer. She would carry a calf for about six months and then miss-carry. On the 3rd try, Dad said that if she miss-carried that calf we would sell her and he would give me another cow. She carried it full term and produced a healthy calf. We needed a new bull so I bought a Shorthorn calf from a neighbor. Paid $12.00 for him and named him
snowball. Dad thought that was too much for a calf, but we wanted to get some beef cattle strains in our herd so it was acceptable. We used him as the herd sire for several years and then I sold him for $130.00
The Picture of me and Snowball was taken about 1947 or 48. Of course we had chickens and pigs. The chickens were used for meat and eggs and the pigs we sold except for the two we butchered each year. We also had a team of horses, Barney and Bess. All of our equipment was horse drawn. We had a 4 wheel wagon, a two wheel cart, a sickle bar mower, dump rake and a 1 row corn planter.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Vern's Story
More of Vern's life story written in 2007. I wasn't going to add anything today but I want to use today's date, 10/11/12.
The Bader's
A few years before we moved, Aunt Mamie and Uncle Paul Bader had the opportunity to sell their property on 34th Street in Kansas City, Kansas and they bought a farm about 2 miles northwest of Marshfield. So the Bader's were well established when we moved down. Again the Bader's and Mall's lived close to each other. I remember that when Dad got his one week of vacation, we would go to their farm and stay with them. Mary Lorene and Elmer also stayed with them so they could start high school in September on schedule.
Jameason Grade School
Two miles south east of our farm was Jameason School. This was a 2 room country school. There was a cook shed behind the school and a large wood pile. Parents and neighbors donated the wood used for cooking and heating the school. Parents took turns cooking. We did have good meals as everything came from somebody's house. No store bought stuff. 7th and 8th grade boys, split and carried the wood into the cook shed and the school house. The boys also kept the heating stove in the school stoked with wood. I think that is called 'child labor' now a days. It was called practical and physical education then. Mrs. Mathews was my teacher for 6th, 7th and 8th grades. Ruth Greer, Talton Greer and Helen Greer, (all cousins), and me all walked to and from school each day. Oh did I mention the school house had electricity! Used for lighting only! We had a 'path' across the road to the 'out house'. It was a two roomer also. One for the girls and one for the boys. The water supply was a well with a hand pump on it. This was located just outside the front door of the school. Graduation from grade school was a Webster County affair. All of the small grade school (Mostly 1 or 2 room schools) kids got an invitation from the County Superintendent of Schools to come to the court house in Marshfield for the ceremony. This next picture is from left to right, Elmer Mall, Mary Lorene Mall and Vernon Mall. We were sitting on the railing of the steps leading up to the court house main entrance, which is on the West side of the building. Take a good look because this is one of the few times you will see me in a suit!
The Bader's
A few years before we moved, Aunt Mamie and Uncle Paul Bader had the opportunity to sell their property on 34th Street in Kansas City, Kansas and they bought a farm about 2 miles northwest of Marshfield. So the Bader's were well established when we moved down. Again the Bader's and Mall's lived close to each other. I remember that when Dad got his one week of vacation, we would go to their farm and stay with them. Mary Lorene and Elmer also stayed with them so they could start high school in September on schedule.
Jameason Grade School
Two miles south east of our farm was Jameason School. This was a 2 room country school. There was a cook shed behind the school and a large wood pile. Parents and neighbors donated the wood used for cooking and heating the school. Parents took turns cooking. We did have good meals as everything came from somebody's house. No store bought stuff. 7th and 8th grade boys, split and carried the wood into the cook shed and the school house. The boys also kept the heating stove in the school stoked with wood. I think that is called 'child labor' now a days. It was called practical and physical education then. Mrs. Mathews was my teacher for 6th, 7th and 8th grades. Ruth Greer, Talton Greer and Helen Greer, (all cousins), and me all walked to and from school each day. Oh did I mention the school house had electricity! Used for lighting only! We had a 'path' across the road to the 'out house'. It was a two roomer also. One for the girls and one for the boys. The water supply was a well with a hand pump on it. This was located just outside the front door of the school. Graduation from grade school was a Webster County affair. All of the small grade school (Mostly 1 or 2 room schools) kids got an invitation from the County Superintendent of Schools to come to the court house in Marshfield for the ceremony. This next picture is from left to right, Elmer Mall, Mary Lorene Mall and Vernon Mall. We were sitting on the railing of the steps leading up to the court house main entrance, which is on the West side of the building. Take a good look because this is one of the few times you will see me in a suit!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
My Life by Vernon Mall
School Years In Marshfield, Missouri
A narrative of my life from age 10 to 17
by
Vernon Mall
7-10-2007
Forward
I write this narrative so that present and future generations will have some insight into the past, their heritage and their ancestry. The dates and places are correct and when exact dates are not known, approximate times have been recorded. Many of the photographs, artifacts and documents were destroyed when Mary Lorene Mall Young's house in Springfield Mo. burned to the ground. The few that I have will be shared in this document and in documents yet to be made. Where hyperlinks are used, it is probably a good idea to use them as you see them.
When I was 10 years old, in the fall of 1944, and I was in 6th grade, we sold our house at 3705 Lust Drive in Kansas City Kansas and moved to a farm about 6 miles Northwest of Marshfield, Missouri. Mom and Dad had purchased this farm of 107 acres a few years earlier.
If you go to Google Maps, search for Marshfield, Missouri, follow 'W' northwest to 'CR632' follow this road west and then northwest, then just before you get to the 2 quick turns in the road, the Mall farm will be on your right or east side of CR632.
These were hard times for Mom. She moved from a 5 room 'modern' house to a 7 room, 2 story, old farm house. No running water, no septic system, no electricity, no phone, it did have a wood cook stove and a wood heating stove and of course the 'path' to the outhouse. On top of that, when the tires wore out on the 1932 Chevrolet, we used the team of horses and the wagon to travel to town. Tires were not available at any price because of World War II. We were without auto transportation for about a year.
When we moved to the farm, Dad was 54 years old, Mom was 45 years old, my sister Mary Lorene was a senior in high school, and Elmer was a sophomore in high school. If I remember correctly, Mary Lorene and Elmer moved down early so they could start school in September. I think Mom, Dad and I came in October.
Cardinal Martini's Interview
This week the Roman Catholic Church commemorates fifty years since the beginning of Vatican II. Last evening, in our parish we had a speaker who talked on the subject. Vatican II was to bring change to the Church - and some has changed, but enough? Someone asked the question: "What is a Cafeteria Catholic?" and the moderator answered: "We are all Cafeteria Catholics. There are things the Church teaches that I would die for and others I doubt." He ended the talk with this interview of Cardinal Carlo Marie Martini, Cardinal of Milan, given shortly before his death in August of this year. It was supposed that he would be Pope after John Paul II but he developed Parkinson's and stepped down from the Hierarchy. This is a little long but worth reading.
How do you see the situation of the Church? The Church is tired, in prosperous Europe and in America. Our culture is out of date; our Churches are big; our religious houses are empty, and the Church's bureaucratic apparatus is growing, and our rites and our vestments are pompous. Do such things really express what we are today? Prosperity weighs us down. We find ourselves like the rich young man who went away sad when Jesus called him to become his disciple. I know that it's not easy to leave everything behind. At least could we seek people who are free and closer to their neighbors, as Bishop Romero was and the Jesuit martyrs of El Salvador? Where among us are heroes to inspire us? We must never limit them by institutional bonds.
Who can help the Church today? Father Karl Rahner liked to use the image of embers hidden under ashes. I see in the Church today so many ashes above the embers that I'm often assailed by a sense of powerlessness. How can the embers be freed from the ashes in order to rekindle the flame of love? First of all, we have to look for those embers. Where are the individuals full of generosity, like the Good Samaritan? Who have faith like that of the Roman centurion? Who are enthusiastic as John the Baptist? Who dare new things, as Paul did? Who are faithful as Mary Magdalene was? I advise the Pope and the bishops to look for twelve people outside the lines for administrative posts - people who are close to the poorest and who are surrounded by young people and are trying out new things. We need that comparison with people who are on fire so that the spirit can spread everywhere.
What means do you advise against the Church's weariness? I have three important ones to mention. The first is conversion: the Church has to recognize its own errors and has to travel a radical journey of change, beginning with the Pope and the bishops. The scandals of pedophilia are driving us to undertake a journey of conversion. Questions about sexuality and all the themes involving the body are an example of this. They are important for everyone, at times they're even too important. In this area is the Church still a point of reference or only a caricature in the media?
The second is the Word of God. Vatican II restored the Bible to Catholics. Only someone who receives this Word in his heart can be among those who will help the renewal of the Church and will know how to respond to personal questions wisely. The Word of God is simple and seeks as its companion a heart that is listening. Neither the clergy nor Church law can substitute for a person's inwardness. All the external rules, the laws, the dogmas were given to us in order to clarify the inner voice and to discern spirits.
For whom are the sacraments? They are the third means of healing. The sacraments are not a disciplinary instrument, but a help for people at moments on their journey and when life makes them weak. Are we bringing the sacraments to the people who need a new strength? I'm thinking of all the divorced people and couples who have remarried and have extended families. They need a special protection. The Church maintains the indissolubility of marriage. It is a grace when a marriage and a family succeed. The attitude we take toward extended families will determine whether their children come near to the Church. A woman is abandoned by her husband and finds a new companion who is concerned for her and her three children. The second love succeeds. If this family is discriminated against, not only the woman, but her children, too, will be cut off. If the parents feel external to the Church and do not experience its support, the Church will lose the future generation. Before Communion we pray: "Lord, I am not worthy." We know we are unworthy. Love is grace. Love is a gift. The question whether the divorced can receive Communion would have to be turned upside down. How can the Church come to the aid of complex family situations with the power of the sacraments?
What do you do personally? The Church is two hundred years behind. Why is it not being stirred? Are we afraid? Afraid instead of courageous? Faith is the Church's foundation - faith, confidence, courage. I'm old and ill and depend on the help of others. The good people around me enable me to experience love. This love is stronger than the feeling of discouragement that I sometimes feel in looking at the Church in Europe. Only love conquers weariness. God is love. Now I have a question for you: "What can you do for the Church?"
How do you see the situation of the Church? The Church is tired, in prosperous Europe and in America. Our culture is out of date; our Churches are big; our religious houses are empty, and the Church's bureaucratic apparatus is growing, and our rites and our vestments are pompous. Do such things really express what we are today? Prosperity weighs us down. We find ourselves like the rich young man who went away sad when Jesus called him to become his disciple. I know that it's not easy to leave everything behind. At least could we seek people who are free and closer to their neighbors, as Bishop Romero was and the Jesuit martyrs of El Salvador? Where among us are heroes to inspire us? We must never limit them by institutional bonds.
Who can help the Church today? Father Karl Rahner liked to use the image of embers hidden under ashes. I see in the Church today so many ashes above the embers that I'm often assailed by a sense of powerlessness. How can the embers be freed from the ashes in order to rekindle the flame of love? First of all, we have to look for those embers. Where are the individuals full of generosity, like the Good Samaritan? Who have faith like that of the Roman centurion? Who are enthusiastic as John the Baptist? Who dare new things, as Paul did? Who are faithful as Mary Magdalene was? I advise the Pope and the bishops to look for twelve people outside the lines for administrative posts - people who are close to the poorest and who are surrounded by young people and are trying out new things. We need that comparison with people who are on fire so that the spirit can spread everywhere.
What means do you advise against the Church's weariness? I have three important ones to mention. The first is conversion: the Church has to recognize its own errors and has to travel a radical journey of change, beginning with the Pope and the bishops. The scandals of pedophilia are driving us to undertake a journey of conversion. Questions about sexuality and all the themes involving the body are an example of this. They are important for everyone, at times they're even too important. In this area is the Church still a point of reference or only a caricature in the media?
The second is the Word of God. Vatican II restored the Bible to Catholics. Only someone who receives this Word in his heart can be among those who will help the renewal of the Church and will know how to respond to personal questions wisely. The Word of God is simple and seeks as its companion a heart that is listening. Neither the clergy nor Church law can substitute for a person's inwardness. All the external rules, the laws, the dogmas were given to us in order to clarify the inner voice and to discern spirits.
For whom are the sacraments? They are the third means of healing. The sacraments are not a disciplinary instrument, but a help for people at moments on their journey and when life makes them weak. Are we bringing the sacraments to the people who need a new strength? I'm thinking of all the divorced people and couples who have remarried and have extended families. They need a special protection. The Church maintains the indissolubility of marriage. It is a grace when a marriage and a family succeed. The attitude we take toward extended families will determine whether their children come near to the Church. A woman is abandoned by her husband and finds a new companion who is concerned for her and her three children. The second love succeeds. If this family is discriminated against, not only the woman, but her children, too, will be cut off. If the parents feel external to the Church and do not experience its support, the Church will lose the future generation. Before Communion we pray: "Lord, I am not worthy." We know we are unworthy. Love is grace. Love is a gift. The question whether the divorced can receive Communion would have to be turned upside down. How can the Church come to the aid of complex family situations with the power of the sacraments?
What do you do personally? The Church is two hundred years behind. Why is it not being stirred? Are we afraid? Afraid instead of courageous? Faith is the Church's foundation - faith, confidence, courage. I'm old and ill and depend on the help of others. The good people around me enable me to experience love. This love is stronger than the feeling of discouragement that I sometimes feel in looking at the Church in Europe. Only love conquers weariness. God is love. Now I have a question for you: "What can you do for the Church?"
Monday, October 8, 2012
Sunday Mass
So yesterday morning, I just could not maneuver this old body to get up and get ready for Sunday Mass. I woke up about 5:00 AM in time to get ready for the 6:30 Service at my parish, St. Thomas , but I had to check my mail and Facebook on the computer. It was 6:15 the next time I checked. Then I made the mistake of turning on the Tellie and in the night I had taped an old movie with Joan Crawford and Robert Young, Goodby My Fancy - got a good line from that movie: "Her mind is always on the tip of her tongue". Then it was breakfast and more 'putzing' around and the 8:00, 9:30 and 11:00 Masses just passed by.
About four in the afternoon, I debated going to 5:00 Mass at St. Thomas versus 7:30 at St. Philomenas - both equal distances away - and since I was actually thinking about going to Church, I decided to go to 5:00. My preferred Mass is 6:30 AM, it is quiet and easy to meditate beforehand. Most of the people attending are my age and I usually sit third pew, left side. I am cocooned by mostly the same folks each week. It is the Mass where I feel most comfortable. There is no music, the quiet fills my soul.
5:00 Sunday evening Mass, on the other hand, is the 'teen' Mass. There are at least 8 people in the choir, plus two reed type horns, three stringed instruments, a keyboard and drums. Plus whomever was working the sound board, was heavy on the bass! Shortly after I arrived, the choir started going over their songs for Mass, loud, Loud, LOUD!!! The choir area at St. Thomas is on the left side front, I sat far right side - out of my comfort zone. I decided to offer up this Mass, this music for Sam Moneyhun, Phyllis's brother undergoing surgery this morning and it came into my mind to pray for nephews, Chris Scovil and Eric Young as well, I don't know why but their names came into my heart. Both are cancer survivors. Sam's surgery today is because of prostate cancer. I am so sick and tired of cancer, mine and so many people I know and care about.
I think the Consecration meant more to me last evening because it was quiet - although I believe the bass was still reverberating off the walls - and in the stillness came what is really important to me - how much Jesus loves me, because He gave up His life for me.
The Meditation Song after Communion was sung by two young girls. "Love Grows Here"
Take A look Around you, tell me what you see.
People here to worship the Lord, just like you and me.
Some have come in gladness, some have come in fear,
But all have come because they know that love grows here.
Every time I get too full of myself and believe I'm getting 'put upon'. God slaps me alongside my head with a Service, a homily or a song that makes me see its not about me but about Him and the way He works in my life and particularly at that Mass which is attended by so many young people. I came away humming "Love Grows Here" and reflecting on going to Mass at 5:00 on a Sunday evening.
However.................. I intend to move my sorry ass a little faster next week and make it to 6:30 AM!!
About four in the afternoon, I debated going to 5:00 Mass at St. Thomas versus 7:30 at St. Philomenas - both equal distances away - and since I was actually thinking about going to Church, I decided to go to 5:00. My preferred Mass is 6:30 AM, it is quiet and easy to meditate beforehand. Most of the people attending are my age and I usually sit third pew, left side. I am cocooned by mostly the same folks each week. It is the Mass where I feel most comfortable. There is no music, the quiet fills my soul.
5:00 Sunday evening Mass, on the other hand, is the 'teen' Mass. There are at least 8 people in the choir, plus two reed type horns, three stringed instruments, a keyboard and drums. Plus whomever was working the sound board, was heavy on the bass! Shortly after I arrived, the choir started going over their songs for Mass, loud, Loud, LOUD!!! The choir area at St. Thomas is on the left side front, I sat far right side - out of my comfort zone. I decided to offer up this Mass, this music for Sam Moneyhun, Phyllis's brother undergoing surgery this morning and it came into my mind to pray for nephews, Chris Scovil and Eric Young as well, I don't know why but their names came into my heart. Both are cancer survivors. Sam's surgery today is because of prostate cancer. I am so sick and tired of cancer, mine and so many people I know and care about.
I think the Consecration meant more to me last evening because it was quiet - although I believe the bass was still reverberating off the walls - and in the stillness came what is really important to me - how much Jesus loves me, because He gave up His life for me.
The Meditation Song after Communion was sung by two young girls. "Love Grows Here"
Take A look Around you, tell me what you see.
People here to worship the Lord, just like you and me.
Some have come in gladness, some have come in fear,
But all have come because they know that love grows here.
Every time I get too full of myself and believe I'm getting 'put upon'. God slaps me alongside my head with a Service, a homily or a song that makes me see its not about me but about Him and the way He works in my life and particularly at that Mass which is attended by so many young people. I came away humming "Love Grows Here" and reflecting on going to Mass at 5:00 on a Sunday evening.
However.................. I intend to move my sorry ass a little faster next week and make it to 6:30 AM!!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
If You Knew Suzi
If you knew Suzi
Like I know Suzi
Oh, Oh, what a girl!
Today is the birthday of our youngest sister, Suzanne Kay Scovil Godfrey. I was nineteen when she was born and so this is my take on that day. This story really begins several months earlier when the parents told us at dinner that Mother was expecting again. And my response - and one of the few times I "sassed" my parents - was "that I hoped the next baby in the family would be mine". That statement backfired on me because our sister, Carol, was prompted to walk down the street four houses and inform Mary Kessler that I was pregnant. Mrs. K, of course, came trotting up the back alley (The neighbors did not use the front door for some reason, all visiting was done through the alley to the back door) to get the 'news'.
Mother woke that October morning - it was a Sunday - and got all of us ready for Church. She was getting ready herself, when the pains started, so she kept David at home and sent Carol and Richard with Dad to 8:00 Mass as Dad sang in the Men's Choir at that Mass. Vern and I were going to a later Mass as did Judy and Russ. Our grandmother lived next door with our cousin, Ben Martin and his family and when she saw that Mother was not at Church with Dad at 8:00, she insisted that Ben bring her home immediately after and she came 'sashaying' - one of Mother's favorite words to describe Grandma's walk - into our house and told Mom that she could not have that baby until she had 'fixed' her hair. So here we are, Mother is having labor pains and washing and setting Grandma's hair, (remember that women stayed in the hospital for a week at that time and although Eva, Ben's wife could have set her hair, she liked the way Mom did it) three year old David is playing with his cars while watching television, various other siblings are coming from or going to Church, and Ben and family are in and out as well. Quite chaotic!!
About noon, Mother told Dad, who was dozing in his chair (choir practice for the men's choir was on Saturday night and it usually ended with a few beers and a poker game at Deebs house), that it was time to go to the hospital - she was dressed and had her bag packed - and he jumped up and said: "Let me take a shower", which he did while Mom waited, the pains getting closer together. She gave instructions to all of us on what to do for the next few days and finally they were off in our gray Packard automobile.
We sat around for the rest of the afternoon, with neighbors in and out, Sophie Reeves, Blanche Cruz and Mrs. Kessler, all wanting to know "what have you heard, Kid". Judy made dinner for all of us. I remember that Vern was pacing the Living Room back and forth and I asked him why and he said: "I never went with a girl before, whose Mother had a baby!"
In the early evening Dad came home and said that we had a new baby sister, Mother was fine, he was exhausted and as he sat down in his chair, said: "Somebody get me a beer!"
The picture on the left was taken at Thanksgiving, 1956. The one with the baggy diaper is Suzanne. She has always said that she had the best childhood because she had all of her older siblings and her nieces - and cousins - our Leah was born two years later.
I started this blog with an old Eddie Cantor song but the 'Suzi' song she grew up with was "Wake Up, Little Suzi" by the Everly Brothers. She may have thought it was written for her.
Happy Birthday, Baby Sister.
Like I know Suzi
Oh, Oh, what a girl!
Today is the birthday of our youngest sister, Suzanne Kay Scovil Godfrey. I was nineteen when she was born and so this is my take on that day. This story really begins several months earlier when the parents told us at dinner that Mother was expecting again. And my response - and one of the few times I "sassed" my parents - was "that I hoped the next baby in the family would be mine". That statement backfired on me because our sister, Carol, was prompted to walk down the street four houses and inform Mary Kessler that I was pregnant. Mrs. K, of course, came trotting up the back alley (The neighbors did not use the front door for some reason, all visiting was done through the alley to the back door) to get the 'news'.
Mother woke that October morning - it was a Sunday - and got all of us ready for Church. She was getting ready herself, when the pains started, so she kept David at home and sent Carol and Richard with Dad to 8:00 Mass as Dad sang in the Men's Choir at that Mass. Vern and I were going to a later Mass as did Judy and Russ. Our grandmother lived next door with our cousin, Ben Martin and his family and when she saw that Mother was not at Church with Dad at 8:00, she insisted that Ben bring her home immediately after and she came 'sashaying' - one of Mother's favorite words to describe Grandma's walk - into our house and told Mom that she could not have that baby until she had 'fixed' her hair. So here we are, Mother is having labor pains and washing and setting Grandma's hair, (remember that women stayed in the hospital for a week at that time and although Eva, Ben's wife could have set her hair, she liked the way Mom did it) three year old David is playing with his cars while watching television, various other siblings are coming from or going to Church, and Ben and family are in and out as well. Quite chaotic!!
About noon, Mother told Dad, who was dozing in his chair (choir practice for the men's choir was on Saturday night and it usually ended with a few beers and a poker game at Deebs house), that it was time to go to the hospital - she was dressed and had her bag packed - and he jumped up and said: "Let me take a shower", which he did while Mom waited, the pains getting closer together. She gave instructions to all of us on what to do for the next few days and finally they were off in our gray Packard automobile.
We sat around for the rest of the afternoon, with neighbors in and out, Sophie Reeves, Blanche Cruz and Mrs. Kessler, all wanting to know "what have you heard, Kid". Judy made dinner for all of us. I remember that Vern was pacing the Living Room back and forth and I asked him why and he said: "I never went with a girl before, whose Mother had a baby!"
The picture on the left was taken at Thanksgiving, 1956. The one with the baggy diaper is Suzanne. She has always said that she had the best childhood because she had all of her older siblings and her nieces - and cousins - our Leah was born two years later.
I started this blog with an old Eddie Cantor song but the 'Suzi' song she grew up with was "Wake Up, Little Suzi" by the Everly Brothers. She may have thought it was written for her.
Happy Birthday, Baby Sister.
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