Mom was never “on stage.” She was perfectly willing to be the audience. I’ve always said we grew up around the kitchen table for it truly was the hub of our home. Dad would come down the alley and coast into our driveway with his red-panel truck which was our sign to put supper on the table. Mom would have it ready to dish up when we heard him come into the drive.

In those days she had a natural gas cook stove with four burners on half of the top with the oven on the other half. Frankly I think that would still be a good idea. After all these years of stooping to look in the oven I would like one like mom had. Some things were right the first time.

While mom and I did dishes dad would read the paper and Louis would usually have some project to work on. On Friday nights uncle Emil and aunt Mardelle would come over to make out statements for the weeks work. Mom always had a nice lunch afterward. Dad and uncle Emil were partners in a plumbing business.

Mom kept books for the business which operated out of our home. As the business grew her responsibilities grew. During the war years it was difficult to get materials for their work and the bureaucracy was mounting. In a few short years Pearl Harbor was bombed, grandpa Andersen hung himself, uncle Robert disappeared and grandma Andersen came to live with us. Our home was small and so grandma was moved into my room and I slept on a cot to make room for her bed.

Mom was stretched to the limit as I look back on it. She never had an easy house to clean and dad was no help. He was so dog tired when he came in, often caked with clay mud that dried on his back, he would kick dirt off of his shoes on the porch, take his jacket off and come in for supper. He washed up in the bathroom and come right to the table.

How mom put up with no hot water in the house is more than I know. Since dad was in the business it is beyond me. Mom always had to heat water to wash dishes in a large enamel dishpan and we rinsed them in another pan. She had a large tea-kettle that was always on the stove heating water. We did have a bathtub but only cold water was hooked to it. A full tea-kettle of hot water was needed for a bath and cooled with water from the faucet. Dishwater was poured down the bathroom stool. There was no drain pipe or sink in the kitchen………just a rough cupboard with a table-top to put the dishpans on.

She never had a washing machine….ever! At that time laundry’s did a pick-up and deliver service and dad thought that was cheaper and easier on mom. I suppose it was also a necessity with no hot water hook-up. Mom never made any objections to any of dad’s suggestions because he was very good at selling his point.

When we moved to Missouri mom’s conveniences were even worse than living in Omaha. There was only a well which we drew water with a long cylinder bucket from. We heated water on a wood stove and used the large laundry tubs to wash the clothes. The clothes were hung over the fence because mom never had a clothesline. She always did with what she had to do with and never complained. It never seemed to matter to her. She took what came…..period. She is truly the only woman I’ve ever known that was so willing to forfeit convenience and so willing to do without.

Life on the Missouri farm was crude and hard. Mom and dad struggled endlessly to make a go of it there but eventually had to give it up and move into town. Dad applied for a job as a mechanic with the Missouri Hwy Department and was hired. When they moved this time it was to a small home that had electricity and running water……yes, even hot water. Mom’s life changed considerably for the better…..

Tomorrow we get acquainted in new surroundings.
Until then,

Essentially Esther