Saturday, June 12, 2004
THE FINAL CHAPTERS OF 1962
Fall and winter were busy in 1962. George and Becky visited John’s room at the KSSB before their first day of school at Nieman. It was an experience for them to observe how a specialized school operates. They began school the next day.
Our neighborhood at that time had undergone some changes. On one side of us a military family lived, the Monihan’s. Dave, the dad, was doing a tour of duty in Kansas City, Missouri as the area’s ROTC head. He didn’t like the duty because he was a ‘real’ soldier and didn’t like the baby-sitting job with high-school ROTC. Dave was an Army brat whose father was a survivor of the Bataan death march. It had a way of entering into the mix of seriousness that Dave exemplified on military issues. Dave, himself, had graduated West Point and had an impressive record. Beverly, his wife, was a sister to his best friend and room-mate at the Point….they became acquainted when the family came to West Point to visit and as they say…..the rest is history. They married and had two children, David and Coleen. They were the third or fourth family to live in this house next to us.
Beverly hailed from Arizona and introduced us to tacos. She was an excellent cook and we occasionally had dinner together. At first we didn’t know if we were into tacos or not….but they had a way of growing on your taste buds. This was before the Mexican food craze hit and it was hard to find the flour tortillas…when you did, they had to be formed in a skillet of grease using two pancake turners to make the shell. I laugh when I think back on that. It took time to brown and mold each tortilla and then to chop all of the things that go into a taco. I always think of Beverly when we have Mexican food. She was a good friend and I learned a lot from her scheduled manner of “a place for everything and everything in it’s place.” Beverly also introduced us to TV slippers one Christmas which she had knit. I still use the pattern and that’s one thing that George Jr. still likes to have when his old pair wears out.
On the other side of us lived the Latham family. Bill was a bank administrator and Aileen was a stay-at-home mom. They had two children….Steve who was in the upper grades at Nieman and then a pretty little sister. They left and relocated in a small town in Kansas some time after we moved in. Bill had the opportunity to become president of the bank so it was a good move for them. When they left they asked if I would show the empty house to anyone who was interested in buying it and after only once or twice a young couple signed the papers on it.
Jim and Dee Cannon hadn’t been married too long and had no children. He worked for TWA as a mechanic and she was a nurse at Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. They became a solid part of the neighborhood as well as the Fowler’s who had moved in across the street. Another family on down from the Latham house was the Everett family. Sherri, the mother, Lisa Gaye the older sister and Eric the little brother…. (I’ve forgotten the husband’s name). The Monihan’s, the Everett’s and the Fowler’s were all playmates of our children. It remained that way for some time before the neighborhood changed again.
For a change of pace mom and dad wanted us to come to Willow Springs for Thanksgiving that year. Uncle Ted and aunt Beulah had retired and had a new home built in Willow Springs so it would be fun to be together. We loaded up the gifts for our “Christmas at Thanksgiving” tradition and all three kids…….while they sang “Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we gooooooo……” We drove down the night before so once the excitement died down the kids crawled under blankets in the back of the wagon and fell asleep.
After the meal on Thanksgiving dad decided to show the kids how to squirrel hunt. Aunt Beulah, uncle Ted, my mother and dad had hunted a lot in their younger days on grandpa Andersen’s farm. We loaded everyone up and headed for the open range of woods where dad often deer hunted. After walking for some time dad showed the kids “deer sign”….foot prints and “tree scrapes.” He explained the rutting season and held a fascinating audience. Grandparent’s are so important to a child’s life…they hold so much information and in my own parent’s case….it was highly valuable information. They were experts on wildlife and appreciation of nature.
The Great Squirrel Hunt of 1962
From left to right: Aunt Beulah, Esther's mom, Esther, John, Becky, Esther's Dad and George, and Uncle Ted
We moved on until dad heard squirrel’s running and spied a nest in one of the tree’s. He told the kids to quietly walk around to the other side of the tree and be very quiet…..as they did, the squirrel moved his position around to the opposite side of the tree where dad waited with the rifle. When the crack of the shot sounded and the squirrel hit the ground the three kids were instantly freaked out. “Graaandpa,” John said, “that was a fine noise.” Their fun was over when the little squirrel was picked up for the ride home and dad had George hold the back legs while he skinned it. It ended his desire to hunt or wish for another squirrel tail….as for Becky and John….they disappeared in the house. My dad often spoke of John’s reaction and would laugh at what he said. In dad’s later years he could no longer hunt…..he couldn’t eat what he killed out of sympathy and finally gave it up all together.
Tomorrow we try to close out 1962.…still a lot to write….
Essentially Esther
Our neighborhood at that time had undergone some changes. On one side of us a military family lived, the Monihan’s. Dave, the dad, was doing a tour of duty in Kansas City, Missouri as the area’s ROTC head. He didn’t like the duty because he was a ‘real’ soldier and didn’t like the baby-sitting job with high-school ROTC. Dave was an Army brat whose father was a survivor of the Bataan death march. It had a way of entering into the mix of seriousness that Dave exemplified on military issues. Dave, himself, had graduated West Point and had an impressive record. Beverly, his wife, was a sister to his best friend and room-mate at the Point….they became acquainted when the family came to West Point to visit and as they say…..the rest is history. They married and had two children, David and Coleen. They were the third or fourth family to live in this house next to us.
Beverly hailed from Arizona and introduced us to tacos. She was an excellent cook and we occasionally had dinner together. At first we didn’t know if we were into tacos or not….but they had a way of growing on your taste buds. This was before the Mexican food craze hit and it was hard to find the flour tortillas…when you did, they had to be formed in a skillet of grease using two pancake turners to make the shell. I laugh when I think back on that. It took time to brown and mold each tortilla and then to chop all of the things that go into a taco. I always think of Beverly when we have Mexican food. She was a good friend and I learned a lot from her scheduled manner of “a place for everything and everything in it’s place.” Beverly also introduced us to TV slippers one Christmas which she had knit. I still use the pattern and that’s one thing that George Jr. still likes to have when his old pair wears out.
On the other side of us lived the Latham family. Bill was a bank administrator and Aileen was a stay-at-home mom. They had two children….Steve who was in the upper grades at Nieman and then a pretty little sister. They left and relocated in a small town in Kansas some time after we moved in. Bill had the opportunity to become president of the bank so it was a good move for them. When they left they asked if I would show the empty house to anyone who was interested in buying it and after only once or twice a young couple signed the papers on it.
Jim and Dee Cannon hadn’t been married too long and had no children. He worked for TWA as a mechanic and she was a nurse at Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. They became a solid part of the neighborhood as well as the Fowler’s who had moved in across the street. Another family on down from the Latham house was the Everett family. Sherri, the mother, Lisa Gaye the older sister and Eric the little brother…. (I’ve forgotten the husband’s name). The Monihan’s, the Everett’s and the Fowler’s were all playmates of our children. It remained that way for some time before the neighborhood changed again.
For a change of pace mom and dad wanted us to come to Willow Springs for Thanksgiving that year. Uncle Ted and aunt Beulah had retired and had a new home built in Willow Springs so it would be fun to be together. We loaded up the gifts for our “Christmas at Thanksgiving” tradition and all three kids…….while they sang “Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we gooooooo……” We drove down the night before so once the excitement died down the kids crawled under blankets in the back of the wagon and fell asleep.
After the meal on Thanksgiving dad decided to show the kids how to squirrel hunt. Aunt Beulah, uncle Ted, my mother and dad had hunted a lot in their younger days on grandpa Andersen’s farm. We loaded everyone up and headed for the open range of woods where dad often deer hunted. After walking for some time dad showed the kids “deer sign”….foot prints and “tree scrapes.” He explained the rutting season and held a fascinating audience. Grandparent’s are so important to a child’s life…they hold so much information and in my own parent’s case….it was highly valuable information. They were experts on wildlife and appreciation of nature.
The Great Squirrel Hunt of 1962
From left to right: Aunt Beulah, Esther's mom, Esther, John, Becky, Esther's Dad and George, and Uncle Ted
We moved on until dad heard squirrel’s running and spied a nest in one of the tree’s. He told the kids to quietly walk around to the other side of the tree and be very quiet…..as they did, the squirrel moved his position around to the opposite side of the tree where dad waited with the rifle. When the crack of the shot sounded and the squirrel hit the ground the three kids were instantly freaked out. “Graaandpa,” John said, “that was a fine noise.” Their fun was over when the little squirrel was picked up for the ride home and dad had George hold the back legs while he skinned it. It ended his desire to hunt or wish for another squirrel tail….as for Becky and John….they disappeared in the house. My dad often spoke of John’s reaction and would laugh at what he said. In dad’s later years he could no longer hunt…..he couldn’t eat what he killed out of sympathy and finally gave it up all together.
Tomorrow we try to close out 1962.…still a lot to write….
Essentially Esther
