August 23, 2006
Walter was a great Dad; had much more patience, than I, so I tried to back him up when he was handling a crisis. I considered it my job! He would simply talk to them quietly, and seemed to get his point across every time, while I could jump up and down, and make a lot of noise, and all the time I knew that they were simply waiting for me to get it off my chest, so they could be on their way!
Well, my dear, you asked about our life before Kevin joined us, plus a question or two. I did get a chuckle when you asked why there was such a gap between the twins and Kevin! I guess you could chalk it up to nerve on my part. That first year with two babies who had colic day and night stayed fresh in my mind for a long while. Finally, God decided that we should give it another "Whirl"! My doctor, who I had with the twins had retired, so I needed to choose another one, and I really picked the best; a woman doctor who was willing to go to great lengths to see that we could enlarge our family. Her name was Ellen Carter, and I shall bless her all my life. All the time I stayed in bed trying to hang on to that little one, she would stop by the house, on numerous occasions to test my blood, and on three occasions dispatched Walter on a hurried trip into Los Angeles to the Red Cross Blood bank to pick up the "B" positive blood that I needed, and she couldn't find in the Pomona hospitals. On my very first visit to her office, she checked me, and asked if I wanted this baby, and when I replied "Yes" she said, "well, it's not in a good position on the uterus, so there is just a 50/50 chance of a good outcome, but we'll give it a try. Every time I had to go to the hospital for a transfusion she met me there to administer it. My original contract with her was for $ 100, and I had that paid within the first three months, so after Kevin was born, and the doctor took care of him while he was in the incubator for three months, even weighing him from time to time. She insisted on zooming up the temperature in the nursery, warming a blanket on the scale, etc. The night nurse used to snatch him out of the incubator sometime without all that preparation, so she could show Walter when he made his nightly milk delivery. Anyway, when I finally asked the doctor why we hadn't received a bill for all the extra attention she replied that we were fully paid up. Her payment was seeing Kevin grow and thrive. She was later promoted to the top doctor (I forget the word for it) at the hospital, and I like to think it was because she stuck to her thought of helping us when the other doctors criticized it.
Another question you asked was about Walter's vocation. After my Dad retired from the grocery business we, plus Jack, my brother, and one other fellow bought the inventory, so were in the grocery business for many years. Three months after we took over we were robbed at gun point one night, and lost $ 4500, and we had no robbery insurance. My brother later left when he was drafted into the Korean war, and started in the inventory business after his time in the air force; and became a multi-millionaire. Such is LIFE!

March 2, 2006
Speaking of Dave and Dick, and your request of some antidotes of their entrance into the world, I will try to recall some highlights. As you might remember, they were born shortly after World War 2. I had flown home, after my doctor advised it, since he felt I might be prone to having babies early after the experience of losing out first baby. We knew that Walter would be coming out of the air force soon, but since we didn't have any idea when that would be we felt that I should get home as soon as possible at four months along. He did drive home, after being mustered out, a few months later, and since housing was scarce we had to live with my parents while waiting for our house to be built. Jack, my brother, had also been released from the Service, so he, and Lalie, were also living there with Candace, their almost one year old baby. Walter had no idea what line of work he wanted to pursue, so my Dad persuaded him to build houses on some property he owned, and at the same time work on the houses that we needed. Dad gave Walter and I a lot since he had originally given Jack a car, and sold him the lot next to ours for a very low price. We had to have a contractor in order to get the materials for the houses; only veterans were allowed to buy lumber, since it was so scarce. When our houses were within a few weeks of being ready to move into Walter discovered that our contractor was also building a house at another location, and using our veteran's priority to do it, plus adding the costs to our bills. That meant Walter had to stop all activity on our houses while someone had to count every nail, lumber, etc. in each house, so we could determine how much the contractor had stolen from us. That was going to take months, which meant our dream of getting into our owns house before the baby arrived was impossible. We still didn't realize there was two babies! Anyway, on my seven months visit to the doctor he couldn't figure out why I was growing so fast. He could only pick up one heart beat. So, he asked me to have an x-ray taken at the lab downtown. This was long before today's methods were discovered. So, down to the lab I went, and I should have known something was up when the technician came out of the dark room with a big grin on his face, but of course, he couldn't say anything to me. A few days later the phone rang, and the nurse at the doctor's office said, "just get down here and see a picture of your twins!!" I blurted out, "TWINS!", and I overheard Mother say, "What did she say?", and Lalie replied, "I don't know, I guess someone has had twins." Well, of course, Lalie and I jumped into the car and sped off to see that picture. While we were there the nurse said the doctor was sure I would have them any day, as they were in position to be born, and since 75% of twins are born early, anyway, that was what we could expect. After seeing the x-ray we drove off to hunt Walter, and found him on the roof of one of the houses he was working on. I yelled up to him in these exact words, "Guess what, Honey, I'm going to have twins." He came home that night with several smashed fingers, since my news earlier in the day had caused him to hit his fingers instead of the aimed at nails.
So, we come to March 6, about two months later! On my last visit to the doctor I threatened to have them on the doctor's day off, which was a Wednesday, and as it turned out that is what happened. Earlier that afternoon Mother needed to go downtown for something, and since I was her driver, off we went. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable, so told her I'd wait in the car. we returned home about 4 p.m., and by this time I just felt like being flaked out on the sofa was a good idea, and I kept announcing that I was not having labor pains. When Walter drove into the driveway, from work, Mother informed him that I was not feeling well, so he came to talk to me, and again I proclaimed I knew it wasn't labor pains, but Lalie said she wasn't up to delivering twins on the sofa, so talked Walter into calling the doctor's office. He told the nurse that I didn't think I was having labor pains, but she said it was close to my due date (which was March 10), I'd better go to the hospital. The doctor was already there with another woman in labor. So, I proceeded to get up, from the sofa, and found I couldn't move. Poor Walter, had to carry me to the car and fortunately the hospital was only a few blocks away, because Dave arrived twenty minutes later, with Richard following, except soon as David was born Richard turned a flip, and the whole room exploded because he was going to be a breach baby. I couldn't figure out why everyone was so excited until later when the doctor explained it wasn't a good idea for a baby to make a quick turn as the cord might get around the neck, so Dr. went after the baby. Dave was born at 6:07 p.m. and Dick arrived at 6:11 p.m. Dave weighed 6 lbs. 2 1/2 oz. and Dick weighed 5 lbs. 14 1/2 oz. Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, Lalie told Walter to go inquire at the nurses station how things were progressing, and the nurse said "the twins just went by, and your wife will be down in a few minutes" So, their thoughts about getting settled for an all night wait was eliminated. I stayed in the hospital for ten days, which was boring, but it turned out to be the last rest I had for a long while since both the babies had colic, so our nightly ritual turned out to be both of us rocking the babies trying to keep them from disturbing the rest of the household. Lalie stayed in the garage with the washing machine and the mountains of diapers that the three babies provided, Mother was holed up in the kitchen trying to keep us all fed, and my days were in the bedroom taking care of babies, sterilizing bottles, etc. On my birthday, which was pretty soon after getting out of the hospital, Lalie came to my bedroom door to say "Happy Birthday" and I promptly fell down on the bed between the babies where I had been holding their bottles, and proceeded to become hysterical. Lalie disappeared, and returned with Mother. They both scooped up a baby, ordered me to get back in bed, and to this day, I don't know what they did with the babies all day, as I slept until 4 p.m., and I've always said it was the best birthday present I ever received. Somehow, that wonderful day of rest was something I needed desperately, because I never needed it again.
About the time the babies were getting over their colic, at nine months, we were able to move into our house, and life became much simpler. It was a miracle that we all got along so well after being cooped up for those many months before and after the babies were born, maybe the fact that we were so busy, and usually so tired we didn't have any energy to argue or disagree. Later, when Jack, Lalie, and Candi lived next door to us, we had a gate between the back yards, so the three little toddlers could play together, or splash in the pool that Walter constructed in the back yard. That little 800 square foot house was truly a happy life to look back on. Lalie and I took turns hiding Easter eggs, and one time when I was busy doing just that I happened to glance up at their kitchen window and noticed Candi watching me hide the eggs. Needless to say she won the prize for finding the most eggs that Easter!

August 9, 2005
The twins were 7 years old when Kevin was born. Since he was in the incubator in the hospital, and children weren't allowed to be near the babies the nurses let us bring the boys in when no other visitors were there, so they could see their new little brother. I remember it was on Easter Sunday, so the boys took a stuffed rabbit to give to the baby. However, since the rabbit wasn't sterilized it had to be hung outside along the edge of the viewing window. That seemed to satisfy the boys as long as the rabbit had the little brother's name on it. So, there it hung until Kevin was BIG enough to come home, which was the following Mother's Day.
Regarding your question about our first baby, and losing her four hours after her birth. When I got to the hospital late at night with labor pains the only one on duty, in maternity, was a student nurse. During the war there was a shortage of doctors, and nurses, so the ones available weren't called in unless there was a critical need, and then only at the last minute. So, the student nurse gave me a shot to put me to sleep, and since I was just 7 1/2 months along, that was supposed to stop the labor pains. Sometime during the night I woke up and rang for the nurse to tell her the pains had started again, so she gave me another shot. The baby was born the next morning while I was still asleep, and, of course the baby was asleep as well. I have since learned that you should never give those drugs to a patient who is in danger of delivering premature. They tried to tell us that the baby had a heart murmur, but Kevin's doctor told me that her heart had to be o.k. or she would not have lived those four hours. At one time they had Walter all prepped for a blood transfusion, and that was in hope they could thin the drugs in her system, but she was too weak to be transfused. It was terribly difficult to lose her, but I took comfort in knowing that God gave us twins two years later, and they would never have been born, as I would have had to come home if we had had a baby to drag around from Texas to North Carolina to Missouri after she was born. The only places we could find to rent were single rooms in private homes after we left Texas. The only way that I could continue to be with Walter was if we didn't have a child to consider, since the conditions of living were very primitive.

February 5, 2004
..."How and when Walter and I met and started this grand adventure to build the Heffner "dynasty". During 9th grade we were in the same grade, but in different home rooms, so didn't have any connection until we both were in the senior class play. Walter was a pilot in the play, and my best girlfriend was his girlfriend. I can't remember what part I had, but one day I was standing next to the drama teacher looking up at the stage while she was giving instructions to Anita and Walter, and the teacher stopped instructing to make the remark, MY, the two of you make a nice looking couple", and I remember thinking, "They sure do!" Anita was very blonde, and Walter was very dark. Anyway, that was the first time I ever noticed him. Later, when we entered 10th grade in high school, the geography teacher was reading off our names. I recalled the Walter Heffner name from that 9th grade play. That evening when Robert Heffner stopped by our house as he did very ofter, for a short visit, I asked him if he had a brother in my class, and he replied that he did. I jokingly said, "Well, he's pretty cute, why don't you bring him with you sometime?" Bob had a number of girls that he stopped to chat with on his way home after delivering his paper route, but , as I well knew there was only one girl he was truly interested in. Her name was Marjory, but her Mother refused to let her date anyone. Anyway, the next evening when Bob stopped by he had Walter with him; the next night, same thing, and the next night Walter came alone!! That was the start of six years dating each other, except for one year when we broke up after we started wondering if it wouldn't be good to date other people for a change. Anita had been trying to coax me to go out with a someone in her group of friends that she ran around with in a nearby town. Well, I did that just once and didn't enjoy the experience at all. After about a year of that trial and error I happened to bump into Walter at Ganesha Park where I was walking my dog, and he was waiting for his current girlfriend to get out of the pool, so he could take her home. I considered turning around to avoid having to talk to him, but decided that would be too obvious, so as I approached him and said "Hi" he acted as though he wanted to talk, so I stopped, and I was surprised to find out that I really enjoyed talking to him. So, since my dad had recently purchased a new car for Jack and I to drive back and forth to school, I invited Walter to come by sometime and test it, fully expecting him to show up real soon, but he didn't do it. I ran in to him again, and reminded him of my invitation, and he said, "How about tomorrow night?" When I issued the first invitation I fully expected to hand him the keys, and let him go around the block a few times, while I waited on the sidewalk, bu when he didn't come running I guess that piqued my interest, and I found myself getting all dressed up, and talking Jack into letting me take the car, since he was supposed to have it nights and I had it most days. When Jack found out that I was going to let Walter drive it, his remark was, "Good grief, is THAT starting up again?? We drove down to the coast and back that night talking up a storm, and truly making up for lost time. A few days later we knew it was time to cut all other ties and get back to dating each other exclusively. When I went away to school in Los Angeles I have to admit to not being true to our commitment, but it just made it clear that no one measured up to Walter in the long run.
Returning to our high school days, one evening when our family had just returned from a trip, Walter and Bob had come by to see some pictures we'd taken on the trip. Bob, and his friend, Gordon, left to go home to Bob could continue working on his bicycle to make it into a racing bike. Walter stayed for a while and then left for home also. When he got there, Gordon and Bob were just getting ready to try out the bike, so they asked Walter to get his bike out and go with them. Walter and Gordon were just pedaling slowly behind as Bob went streaking by with his head down, as racer do, when a car came around the corner. Bob hit his head on the passenger side just above the door. Walter picked him up and put him on the grass to get him out of the street, told Gordon to stay with him while he ran across the street to a small grocery store to use their phone to call an ambulance, then, his parents. Bob was still alive when he reached the hospital, but died soon after. He passed away the day that he had signed up to start junior college in the Fall. Bob was a fine young man; very talented with a bright future ahead of him. A little tendency to be reckless sometimes/ His passing was terribly difficult on Walter as they were very close. Especially traumatic for his parents as Bob was the third son they lost; two others passed away as young babies before Bob and Walter were born.
On December 7th, 1941, Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese which involved the U.S.A into World War 2. That event gave Walter and I reason to think about becoming engaged, although our intention was to postpone marriage until the war was over. The reasoning was that Walter was certain to go into the Service, and we felt the war wouldn't last longer than six months, anyway. Walter left to go into the Air Force in June, First stop in his training was Texas, and it became apparent, by then, that the war was going to be much longer than we expected, so when he was transferred to Albuquerque, New Mexico we decided it was a fine time to get married since he was going to have a week to come home, and that was the amount of time we had to plan the Big Event! The wedding was quite small with just family and close friends, and held in our back yard. We left immediately afterwards for Albuquerque as Walter had to return to the business of training for war. For one month we stayed at the Wigwam Motel, as it was the only place we could find that had kitchens. At the end of the first month Walter was given prders to transfer to Dalhart, Texas for advanced training in Gliders, and it was recommended that wives not go as it was a very small town with no rental housing. So early the next morning we loaded the car with all of our belongings and I started driving back home to Pomona. Walter marked a map for me as I could traverse the 810 mile trip in three days. During wartime the speed limit was 45 miles an hour, strictly enforced. When I reached the California border there was a very long line of card waiting to cross, so I figured I'd have to wait a few hours there as everyone had to unload all luggage and all other items they were carrying. When I finally got to the front of the line the officer saw Walter's soldier hat on top of the stuff in the back seat and motioned me to drive on. As I started up the engine all of the people who were emptying luggage on the tables looked up and said, "Hey, she just got here!!" Well, it was too early to stop in the next town as my map instructed, so I continued on. Pretty soon I stopped for gas and a couple of soldiers came up to me and asked if I was traveling north, and could they have a ride, as they were going to Hollywood. I told them I was going within 30 miles of Hollywood, so hop in. As it turned out, they were nice company, and I dropped them off at a corner in Pomona about 2:30 a.m. I've often wondered if they saw any movies stars while in Hollywood, as that was their goal. As it turned out, I was the only wife who followed orders and didn't go to Dalhart, as requested. The others found rooms in private homes, while I cooled my heels in Pomona, waiting for Walter to call and say he found a place to stay, which took six weeks before I could get on a train to reunite with my new husband. Dalhart was truly an interesting spot in the Texas panhandle. Our room was in a lady's old house, about 3 blocks from town, which had a hotel with dining room, the only place in town we were allowed to eat, as all others had not passed health inspections. Walter and I had a bed and portable closet in the living room; next to that housed a sargent and wife in the parlor; the landlady slept in the dining room; and another glider pilot and wife slept in the only bedroom, and we all had to go through most rooms to get to the bathroom. There wasn't any hallway. This was in the middle of winter, and when we opted to omit the walk to town for meals through the snow we fired up our friends' toaster and the bathroom heater to make toast and Campbell's soup to eat. Our only entertainment was to play bridge in the evening, even though our landlady told us she would put us out in the street if she caught us playing cards in her house. Fortunately, she spent most of her time at her daughter's house, so we were never caught. Finally, Helen and I asked the landlady if we could pay another dollar per week, so we could have kitchen privilges (Our weekly rent was seven dollars.) She said o.k., so Helen and I started cleaning the kitchen, so we could cook. It took us two days to get it clean enough to cook our first meal. The landlady's husband had passed away the previous September, and she hadn't washed a dish since. The table had half full dishes with green mold on top. Same thing in the pantry. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes, and believe it or not, the landlady was not pleased that we cleaned it all up!
After spending Christmas there, and going into Spring, we were suddenly notified that the entire base was being shut down as there were too many accidents, and we were to move immediately south to Lubbock, Texas. We had less than 24 hours to get down there. Since we didn't have a car, I had to find a ride with another glider pilot, and his wife, as Walter was assigned a glider to fly down to Lubbock. Lubbock turned out to be our home for over three years, And even though our first baby only lived four hours after she was born, making it our saddest event during our life together, it still feels like one of our most important homes.
The next brief stopover was in North Carolina. It was there that Jack called me to come and pick up his car in Virginia, where he was stationed, as he was being sent overseas, so I hopped on a train and retrieved the car. It was nice to have a car again to get around in, and be able to drive to our next destination, which was Sedalia, Missouri. People were especially nice in Missouri, and of all the places we lived I think we enjoyed it there the most. As the war was nearing a close I flew home as I was about four months pregnant with twins, instead of waiting for Walter to be released from the airforce. Looking back on those years, we have so much to be thankful for, especially that Walter was made an instructor, and we were able to be together."

5-19-03

"You requested information about my Mother. My goodness, where do I BEGIN! She was my best friend, and truly I don't ever remember having an argument or disagreement with her, although the passage of time usually smoothes life's little bumps. She was born in Wash state in 1898, and I think the reason that I admired you Grandmother, Helen, so much, was that the two of them shared the same birthday, October 23. Mother was the third of four daughters. From an early age she was very musical, although she couldn't read a note of music. If she could hum a tune, then she could play it on the piano. Once or twice I saw her pick up a ukelele and play it wonderfully. Unfortunately, neither Jack, my brother, or I inherited that talent. My one regret was Mother never learned to sew; she could embroider lovely items, but all of my home made dresses, dance costumes, etc. had to be "farmed out", but I guess it was the incentive for me to learn to sew. When I look back at the time right after World War 2, and we returned home, housing was impossible, so Jack, his wife, and baby all moved in with Mother and Dad, and Walter and I did too, while we waited for our houses to be built. I was pregnant with the twins, and eventually we had three babies, in diapers, in the house. Mother stayed in the kitchen all the time preparing three meals a day, Lalie stayed in the garage running the washing machine, and I stayed in the bedroom taking care of babies. Since building materials were scarce, it took about a year and a half to get the two little houses completed, so we could move out of the folks' house. That was a long line of meals for Mother to prepare, but she never complained. For many years, when Dad was struggling to keep the meat market in business, he would bring all of the white aprons and coats home for Mother to wash and iron. That was before she had a washing machine, so she scrubbed them by hand, which was quite a feat getting dried blood out. I don't know how she did it.
Another thing I remember about Mother was that she never learned to drive. She walked everywhere, even to town, which was several miles one way. It was nice to be able to be her chauffeur after we came home. In later years when Mother became a widow, I made it a point to go over to take her anywhere she needed to go every other day. My saddest day was the morning I drove in the driveway and noticed her drapes were still drawn, knowing I had terrible news ahead. Went to a neighbor's house to phone Walter to come and break into the house. He came immediately and we found Mother had passed away during the night. She had been feeling a little ill for a few days, but I could tell she had done Monday wash that day, and I had talked to her twice during the day and she reported feeling a bit better. Not a day goes by that I don't think about her, and feel so fortunate that I had such a great time growing up in a happy household, a lot due to a Mother who thought I was just short of being perfect. "

1-3-03

Harry Neal Boone... "was born on March 3, 1898 at the family ranch in Lewis County, Wash. Was one of eight children, four boys and four girls" (Harry, Jenny, DeHart, Ruth, James, Daniel, Lucille, Anna). "His father's name was Martin, and his mother's name was Margaret. His father died when my Dad was 16, and the mother was left to raise the children; the youngest was just a baby. The ranch consisted mostly dairy cows, and in later years when we went to visit I remember chickens, and large vegetable gardens. No running water in the house, and no electricity. No bathroom. I remember a large round galvanized tub, kept in the pantry, where they heated water on the wood stove to put in the tub, and family members took turns bathing, usually on Sat. nights. Jack, my brother, and I always loved going out to the ranch, as there was always so much going on. There was always a dog trained to go out in the fields to bring the cows in the barn mornings and evenings for milking. Also lots of cats, living in the barn to keep the mouse population under control, and they would all line up, across from the milking operation, to get their share of milk which would be squirted in their direction by the men doing milking. I, especially, always loved to go in the incubator room, where the newborn chicks were kept. My mother and father met on a blind date. Mother was supposed to go out with Dad's brother, Dan, but she accidentally got in the seat with Dad, and no one told her she was in the wrong seat, so they just left it that way, and the rest is history!
They were married on March 31, 1920, and I was born on March 24, 1921. I remember Dad as being pretty strict, but very loving. When Jack and I were small we always crawled in bed with him on Sundays, while Mother cooked breakfast, and he would read the funny papers to us. One morning, when I crawled in beside him, he looked at me and said, "What's wrong with your face?" Well, I had the measles, that was what was wrong! One time, when I was in the first grade, I was talking when I should have been listening, and the teacher turned me over my desk, and paddled me. Corporal punishment was in in those days. I wasn't physically hurt as much as I feared that Dad would hear of it, so I bribed my girlfriend, for months, not to tell, so if I had a piece of candy or cake in my lunch she got it.
When we came to Calif., in 1929, in the beginning of the great depression, and so many men were out of a job, Dad was able to find one almost immediately in a slaughter house. Two days later federal police showed up and arrested everyone because they were killing cattle that hadn't been inspected. Fortunately, the owner spoke up and told them that Dad didn't know about the operation, since he had just started working there, so he got to come home that night instead of going to jail. After that experience, Dad heard about a market that was for sale in Pomona, so he decided to go into business for himself, depression or no depression. For a long time he, and one other market, were the only ones in town; all others had gone bankrupt. From then on, we rarely saw Dad, as he would be gone to open the store mornings before we were awake, and came home after we were asleep at night. I think he was able to stay in business because of hard hard work, and he supplied almost all of the restaurants in town.
When I was in junior high, and getting ready to graduate from the ninth grade, Dad took a rare day off to see the ceremony. Out of each graduating class one boy and one girl is chosen to receive the American Legion award, and a prominent member of the community comes to the school to present the awards. I received it, and when I finally started off the stage and glanced over to where my parents were sitting mother was beaming and Dad had tears streaming down his face. I stopped feeling nervous and embarrassed, and finally managed to feel proud. The only other time I saw tears in Dad's eyes was the Christmas Eve that I received my engagement ring. Mother did say he had tears in his eye when she told him I had just had twin boys.
One other memory of Dad was that he always got up at night with Jack or I , even if we just thought we saw a monster lurking in the darkness, and asked for a drink of water so we could get a look when the light was on. I had a lot of earaches as a young child, and Dad would get up to try and soothe it with heat. So, even though we didn't see much of him during the day, I always knew he was there for me at night.
It was a terrible shock for me when my parents were divorced after Dad retired. They had been so busy making a living, and getting ahead financially, they didn't realized they had very little in common. Dad had dreamed all of his life that he wanted to buy a boat and travel to Alaska, or where ever his fancy took him, and Mother had always been deathly afraid of water deeper than her ankles. Thank goodness they both married people who enjoyed the same life style as they did, and the friends they each had. They remained good friends. Mother used to go shopping with Elsie and Dad would play golf with Harvey. People thought their relationship , after divorce, was pretty strange, but it certainly made things better for us.
Dad passed away of heart trouble at the age of 67."

Chapter 3 "Mother's Three Cures"

My Mother's treatment of any illness that might befall any member of the family was simple and uncomplicated. For the usual mumps, measles, chicken pox, or just stomach upsets, when appetites lagged, the sure cure was MILK TOAST. Now, for most patients that wasn't too bad, but since I couldn't tolerate milk, even as a baby, it was pretty close to torture for me. She would toast a slice of bread, butter it, and put it in the bottom of a bowl where it was drowned with hot milk. She convinced me that I'd be up and around in no time if I consumed every drop, so I'd hold my breath just long enough to gobble it down.
If we had a cold, the treatment consisted of getting a chest rub with gobs of Musterole, then a flannel cloth was pinned inside our pajamas for added warmth, and to keep the greasy stuff off the bedclothes. Now, I don't have anything against the smell of garlic, in its' place, but never learned to like being overwhelmed by the odor all night, for the duration of the cold. Our children certainly had their chests rubbed with Vicks on numerous occasions, but I never had the inclination to try the Musterole cure because of that memory.
If we were unfortunate enough to be ill for more than a day, then the castor oil bottle was retrieved from the cupboard, and we were treated to the ultimate cure. That was a real test of breath-holding, for not only did the castor oil have to be choked down, but had to be followed by a glass of orange juice, before taking a breath, to escape most of that terrible taste.
Well, there you have Mother's three sure cures. Needless to say, our medicine cabinet was far from being over crowded, and I might mention that I never entertained the thought of pretending illness in order to stay home from school! Probably showed up at school on a few occasions when my germs went home with the other kids, as well. How else can you explain the report cards, that repose in my cedar chest, which shows perfect attendance for several years during the elementary years? There's something to be said for Mother's cures, after all.

I Remember when....

Chapter 1 "THE ICE MAN COMMETH"

I'm not sure how old I was when our family acquired our first electric refrigerator, or just when THE ICE MAN disappeared from the scene. As a small child, I recall him as a very important adjunct to our lives, as well as being essential to the well-being of our food. As I recall, the ice man would come around twice a week in his truck. Each household had an ice card, perhaps 12 to 15 inches square, and if you wanted ice delivered you hung the card in the window. Each of the 4 corners of the card had a number which, I believe was 5, 10, 15, and 20; so if you wanted 10 lbs of ice, you hung the card with that number on top. When the ice truck stopped at your house, or any of the neighbor's, all of the kids came running, because the good natured ice man never seemed to busy to chip off chunks of ice to pass out to each outstretched hand. Then, too, pieces most always fell away as he wielded the ice pick to cut the desired size for the householder's ice box. Having a piece of ice to suck on, especially during the hot days of summer, wouldn't seem much of a treat to today's child, but to us, in the days before the ice cube producing refrigerator, it was the highlight of many days.

Jan. 1986

Since it's the beginning of a new year, and has been quite some time that I've contributed to this journal, guess I'll add a bit to it.
Walter has been retired for a little over 2 years, and enjoying it very much. he keeps quite busy with his hobby of helping out at the Senior Center. Is on the Board of Directors and delivers surplus gov't cheese, flour, rice, etc. to shutins from time to time. We've now lived in our house for twenty years, so repair projects also show up. Sandee, our cocker spaniel takes us on a two mile brisk walk on the beach almost every morning, and I continue with my tap dancing class once a week, for exercise. We have a 22 ft. 5th. wheel trailer which we hoop up occasionally "and hit the road". Last September we traveled to Colorado to attend the glider pilot reunion, and afterwards went up to Evergreen for a short visit with Kaaren and Dick, where they have lived for the past few years. James is not 14, and Shannon will be 12 this year. In November we trailered down to Pomona to attend our 46th. high school class reunion. Then, afterwards, a quick trip down to see Carolyn and Jack at their ranch near Escondido.
On November 21, another little grandchild arrived. Kyra is No. 7, and the third offspring for Kathy and Kevin. Brings our score up to four boys and three girls, every one a joy.
On last April 30 my world was shattered when Mother passed away suddenly, and so unexpected. I know I should have been somewhat prepared, since she was 86, and definitely slowing down, especially the past year. She had been feeling ill for two, or three days, but was up and around. Had gone out to dinner with us on Sun., as usual, but ate very little. I talked to her twice on the phone Monday, and on the second call reported feeling a little better. On Tuesday morning when I drove over there to take her shopping I knew something was amiss when I noticed her drapes were still closed, and the door still bolted. I rushed next door to use their phone to call Walter to come and cut the chain lock on the door. He arrived, and when we entered found Mother in bed looking as if she was peacefully asleep, but obviously had gone to join Harv several hours before. I still miss her terribly, and will continue to for the rest of my life. Not only was she a wonderful Mother, but a best friend. She had so many qualities that I admired; a wonderful attitude, making it a pleasure to be around her. I know the past 6 1/2 years have been very lonely, and not too happy for her, since Harv passed away, but she tried to hard not to feel too sorry for herself, and therefore make life a burden for those around her. I'm grateful that I could enjoy the good fortune of having a Mother close by well into my 60's, and especially happy she left so peacefully without having to endure a debilitating illness and confinement in a hospital, or rest home, as that was her greatest fear. So, my grief has been much easier to bare realizing that not only she left just the way she would want, but was spared the misery of watching that dear life suffer. I'm so grateful to our Heavenly Father for blessing us so much.

1976 was Kevin's time to return to the "fold", so it was very happy parents who drove to the Los Angeles airport to pick up our youngest son and finally have the entire family back in this country. His girlfriend, Kathy Goodwin, had waited also for his return, so we knew a wedding would take place sometime in the near future. They were married on June 22 in the Los Angeles Mormon Temple which marked the most important milestone in the lives of Walter and I. Our dreams, hopes, and aspirations had come to fruition; namely to see our three fine sons choose, and marry the nicest girls God ever created. Truly, we must surely be the most fortunate and blessed parents in the world!
Kathy's and Kevin's marriage was followed almost a year later by a little daughter, Amanda Louise, and less than two years went by before Daniel Robert arrived to join their family. So, at this writing our grandchildren number six, every one a winner! Kathy and Kevin are living in Paso Robles with five year old Mandi, and three year old Danny. They manage the 27 unit apt. they live in, but are presently building a house on two acres about six miles out of town. Kevin is doing most of the construction work himself with plans drawn by his brother, Dick.
Cheryl and Dave live about 200 miles north of here, in Turlock, along with eleven year old Scott and Chris, who will be nine years of age in Oct. Cheryl and Dave both teach in the nearby town of Patterson.
Kaaren and Dick live a few miles out of Escondido with their children, Jamie, eleven this coming August, and Shannon, eight. Dick works for an engineering firm, in San Diego, and Kaaren works, part time, as a teacher's aid. My brother, Jack, also has a home near Escondido with his second wife, Carolyn.
Walter is currently in his eighteenth year in the computer center, at Cal Poly, with a goal of retiring about January, 1984. We're looking forward to acquiring a recreation vehicle to resume the enjoyable pastime of camping and traveling. We had a trailer for a time and loved our trips. When my stepfather, Harv, passed away 3 1/2 years ago, and it became necessary for me to help Mother cope with her life alone, we sold the trailer as our trips were few and far between. Now, with the passage of time, I think Mother is capable of doing without our presence from time to time. She will be 84 years old in October, in good health, and most of the time, in good spirits.
This will wind up my story for now, since I'm up to the present. Perhaps I'll add to it at a later date, pus I'll list some afterthoughts from time to time. It's been kind of fun winding back through the years, and now that I've sort of gotten the "hang of it" it seems a good idea to keep it going.

In June, 1971 Walter and I became grandparents for the first time when David Scott (Scotty) was born, in Texas to Cheryl and Dave. Six weeks later our second grandson arrived when Richard James (Jamie) was born to Kaaren and Dick, in Spain. To say we were thrilled with the new title "grandparent" is definitely an understatement. In the Fall of that year we flew to Killeen, Texas to see Scotty for the first time.
In the meantime, Kevin was beginning his college career at Cal Poly, and we looked forward to realizing our goal of seeing our three sons obtaining degrees, something that their parents were unable to accomplish for various reasons. However, Kevin came up with a different goal after he'd completed his second year. He became very interested in the Mormon religion and soon joined the church; then, informed us that it was imperative for him to go on a two-year mission for the church. We tried to persuade him to postpone that obligation until he'd obtained his degree, but he explained that being nineteen he was already older than most missionaries. It was apparent to us that it was terribly important that he make this commitment a reality, so we gave him our support, somewhat reluctantly. After a short training period, in Utah, he was soon on his way to Argentina.
It's difficult not to get ahead of events during this period of time, and things will get out of sequence, from time to time, as they have at this point.
In October, 1973 Christopher Michael, our third grandson was born to Cheryl and Dave up in Patterson, Calif. where Dave was now pursuing his teaching career, after being released from the Army. This time we were on hand to welcome the newest addition to the Heffner clan, as we jumped in the car and drove the 200 miles to Patterson soon as we were informed his birth was imminent. I'd had a growth removed from my thyroid a few days previously, and the news that the growth was non-malignant, plus a new Heffner in the family made the month of October pretty special, and we celebrated by bringing Scotty home with us for a week of fun and games while his parents were giving full attention to the new baby in their home.
In 1974 we prepared to welcome Kaaren, Dick, and Jamie home from Spain, as Dick's time in the Navy was drawing to a close. They would also have a new baby, who would arrive in April or the early part of May, to add to our growing family. Of course, we were hoping for a girl this time, and sure enough on May 5th. Shannon Llorraine arrived with much rejoicing, to add some variety to the family circle.
1975 saw several important events transpiring. Kevin was winding up his second year of missionary work in Argentina, so we were anxiously awaiting his return. He'd given us some anxious days earlier when we'd received a phone call telling us he'd have to have a hernia operation in Buenos Aires, so we were more than anxious to see him back home in March 1976. In March 1975 it was a traumatic time when it was discovered that I had uterine cancer. An immediate series of 18 radiology treatments were started, followed by successful surgery on May 7. I was most impatient to get back to feeling hale and hearty, after the operation, but due to the radiology treatments full recovery took almost a year. Meantime, Cheryl and Dave were both teaching up in Patterson, and Kaaren and Dick were living in Mission Viejo and Dick was an assistant city engineer for San Juan Capistrano.

It seemed an eternity before we had a buyer, but actually it was only about six weeks, and soon we were looking around the San Luis Obispo area for our next home. We'd been so fond of our Pomona house, and perhaps that fact made us finally realize we were looking for an almost exact replica of the house we were leaving behind. So, we opted for buying a lot and building a duplicate. Dick drew a sketch, and floor plan with minor changes, and we took it to a contractor, in Morro Bay, since we'd decided that was to be our home after locating an appropriate lot a few blocks from the ocean. We rented a small house, and the older boys and Walter moved the furniture, etc., in a rented truck the day after Christmas 1965.
Three months later we moved into our new home; Dave and Dick moved out of the dormitory, and our family numbered five once more. Time moved swiftly by, and before we knew it Dick and Dave were engaged to be married. Dave's choice was Cheryl Haber, we he'd known for a number of years during school days in Pomona. Dick had dated Kaaren Asper since 11th grade, so the news of their impending marriages to these two lovely girls that we'd known for quite a long time was welcome, to say the least. Since both boys still had one more year, of five-year courses, in college, it meant tight purse strings for them to start out with, but we knew they'd make out just fine. The weddings were just two weeks apart down in Pomona.
After they were married, Cheryl and Kaaren found jobs in San Luis Obispo, and we continued to feel grateful that the government was permitting Dick and Dave to pursue the quest of college degrees before asking them to join the armed forces. That possibility had been looming on the horizon ever since our country had entered the conflict in Vietnam sometime before. Upon graduation, however, it was apparent they were going to be called to serve their country. Dick chose to sign up for the Navy Airforce, and Dave opted for the draft, and soon started training in the army. During their first few months of training their wives couldn't be with them, so Cheryl returned to her parents' home and Kaaren remained with us in order to continue her position with the Farm Bureau. They rejoined their husbands later, after Dave was assigned to a camp in Texas, and Dick was assigned to the base in Pensacola, Florida. The stay there was quite short and they soon found they were on their way to a Naval Base in Spain for a stay of two years. With Dave being assigned to a job of training recruits, here in the States, and Dick going to a place far from the fighting of Vietnam, their parents were indeed thankful.

After Walter completed his training program the nearest place of employment that was available turned out to be a firm in Compton. It was a long drive for Walter to go to work each day and the 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. shift wasn't the most ideal, but we got used to the inconvenience.
The day arrived when high school graduation for Dave and Dick was on the horizon, and it was time to make a decision about college. While they were still in the 11th. grade we'd taken them into Los Angeles to the Johnson O'Connor Human Engineering Lab. to be tested for natural aptitudes, since neither one could decide about a college major. They'd always tested out to be equal in all I Q tests that had been given in school, but as it turned out they were quite different in natural aptitudes, as we discovered at the O'Connor Institute. Among the various choices of vocations the boys made their decisions based on the test results. Dave would choose a P.E. major and Dick would go for an architecture degree. Dick's choice presented a bit of a problem as we couldn't locate a college near Pomona that offered that major, so it became apparent we'd have to look elsewhere. I went to the library to obtain a list of colleges which had the architecture major listed, and also would be considered to be in the smaller college category, as that was another recommendation from the O'Connor Institute. We narrowed the choices down to a final decision of Cal Poly, in San Luis Obispo, Which seemed to have all the criteria we were seeking, and soon after they sent their application their acceptances arrived from Cal Poly.
Two hundred miles north of Pomona wasn't a great distance away, but when we brought them up to begin that big event in their lives, it was two disconsolate parents traveling back to Pomona trying to make the adjustment of being a three person family instead of the five that we'd set the table for for so long. We tried to be happy for the boys as we knew they were embarking on a grand adventure of a serious nature--at least, we hoped they'd treat it seriously. Judging from the first grades issued it was to take them a little while to knuckle down, but they soon got down to business and we could be proud of their progress from then on.
As time wore on, it was apparent that the long drive to work was getting to be a strain on Walter, and since the company he worked for seemed to offer a good future we decided to try and find an area, closer to the job, where we might like to live. We scouted all of Orange County from one end to the other, and the more we looked the more discouraged we became. The entire area seemed to be one huge mass of humanity, and as future years proved, that was only the beginning.
After driving up to San Luis Obispo a couple of times to visit the boys we came to the conclusion that spot on earth was exactly what we were looking for, but along with the easy going life, small population, slow pace, etc. there was the one flaw of a scarcity of positions in Walter's field. He did submit an application to the college, but at that time the computer dept. was very small and consequently little chance of a position opening up.
My father had become seriously ill from a heart attack, where he and Elsie were living in Santa Barbara. He was in the hospital there, so one Sunday we drove over to visit him. (It turned out to be the last time that I saw him alive. ) While we were sitting in the waiting room of the hospital I picked up the Santa Barbara paper and found an ad in the Help Wanted column stating that Cal Poly was looking for someone to fill a position in the computer dept. Immediately upon arriving home, Walter sent off a letter of application, and by return mail had a notice to appear for an interview. Before we had a chance to think about the task ahead of us, he was offered the position and we eagerly made plans to sell the house in Pomona, and relocate. Walter started working at Cal Poly in Sept. He rented a small house in Morro Bay and drove home each weekend, while Kevin and I waited for a buyer to show up and release us from our "Bonds" which kept our family in a state of neither here nor there.

Kevin slowly, but surely, continued to thrive, but with the problem of colic and our spoiling him life was somewhat hectic for a year, or so. There was never a time that he fell asleep without being rocked until around the age of three. One night Walter was rocking him at bedtime when Kevin looked up at his father and said, "Daddy, I don't want to be rocked anymore." He climbed down off his father's lap and toddled of to his bed, never asking to be rocked again.
The next few years traveled along fairly uneventful. We'd moved out of our small house on Alameda St. into a new and larger house on the corner of Sharon Dr. and La Verne Ave. Our original house on Alameda had cost $ 4500 to build, and we sold it nine years later for $ 8000. The new house was priced at $ 16, 500, and when we sold it some ten years later we received $ 22,500 for it.
I don't think I'm stretching the truth when I say that we truly enjoyed Dave's and Dick's teenage years. Of course, there were a few snags along the way, but the dread that most parents face that period of their lives wasn't our lot, and we were most grateful for that. We were stricter than most, but the boys didn't seem to mind, and we did try very hard to be fair when it became necessary to discipline. Walter was an especially good father, I believe; much more patience than I had, and with our united front the problems were few and far between, which certainly contributed to a pleasant and happy family life. Walter had decided it was time to get out of the grocery business when his partner of many years prepared to retire. It was becoming increasingly difficult for independent markets to compete with the large chains, and the prospect of continuing the business without his partner didn't seem a good idea. (It proved to be a good idea after viewing the decision years later.) (selling out) So, we talked it over and made the decision to sell out, and Walter soon began a training program in tabulating-computer machines at a school in Long Beach. It was to be an expensive year, living on our savings for that period of time, but how lovely it was to have weekends free for the first time since our marriage. We especially enjoyed going to the track meets on Saturdays that Dick and Dave were competing in.

Sometime, in this time frame, my father decided to retire, so he proposed that Walter, Jack, and Glen Ehresman, the third additional partner, but him out at the market. This didn't include the building and property, just the business and inventory. Shortly after taking over we were robbed at gunpoint. It happened just before Christmas, and since we didn't have any insurance for that sort of thing, it was a real disaster for the new owners. The masked gunman got away with about $4500. After that, we installed a safe and used that for the money instead of dropping the money off at the police station each night after the close of business.
When the youngsters were four years old my parents were divorced. I suppose I should have been somewhat prepared for the shock of that, but I wasn't. Everything seemed fine through all the years of hard work while Jack and I were growing up, but upon Dad's retirement their differences magnified. Dad wanted to acquire a boat and spend weeks and months at a time cruising, fishing, and hunting, mostly in wilderness areas, and Mother was deathly afraid of the water, plus she hated to be away from home longer than a few days at a time. After some time passed, Dad met and married Elsie, who he'd med while he was staying up in Washington, where he was living after the divorce. Mother also remarried to a long time family friend, Harvey Martin. Both marriages proved to be most successful, as each now had spouses with the same likes and dislikes. So, that tragic event in my life which seemed so devastating at the time, turned out very well, even though I will never understand how a marriage, which has seemingly gone along so well for so many years, can suddenly take a turn for worse, leading to divorce.
Now we come to the time for the twins to start the school years. Although we'd decided to keep them separated in school, it was necessary for them to be in kindergarten together, as there was just the one class at the school they would attend. So, I got busy and embroidered their names on shirts, so the teacher could tell them apart. David managed to have quite a serious accident at school one day. A little girl was chasing him, and in his eagerness to stay out of her grasp, he pushed his arm through one of the windows, when the teacher appeared in the doorway where he was headed. Walter and I happened to be sitting out in front of the school, waiting for the boys, and recognized the sound when David screamed. Walter vaulted over the brick wall that surrounded the play area, and I ran around to the front door to be greeted by a frantic teacher holding David's badly gashed arm over a sink. There was so much blood gushing from the cut we were afraid, for a time, that an artery had been severed, so Walter put a tourniquet above the cut. The school nurse soon appeared, and she and Walter took David to the doctor's office, while I delivered Richard to his grandmother's house, then joined them at the doctor's where we were relieved to hear an artery wasn't cut. It took many stitched, inside and out, to close the wound as the muscle in the upper arm had been severed, but no crucial nerves were involved, so the growth of the arm wouldn't be affected. That night the boys' teacher came to the house to see how the injured boy was faring and discovered, for the first time that it was David, and not Dick, as she had put on the accident report at school.
After that incident, all went along smoothly for a few years. Jack was called back into the airforce because of the Korean War, as he'd remained in the Reserves after WW 2, which left Walter and Glen the only remaining partners at the store. I'd become quite active in the P.T.A. and other affairs at the boys' school, and when the youngsters were completing the second grade I was elected president of the P.T.A. for the following school year. That gave me all summer vacation to persuade people to serve on the Board with me and to set up the program for meetings in which I'd have to preside over. By September, all items on the agenda had been taken care of and we set about planning our money making venture which would carry us monetarily through the school year. Each year the P.T.A. would put on a Fiesta, with lots of game booths, a dinner, and various food booths scattered throughout the school yard which was attended, not only by all the students and their families, but lots of people in the area who didn't have children in school. Then, I discovered I was pregnant once more. We'd discussed the possibility of having another child; in fact, when the twins were about four I'd gone to the doctor to find out if all the "reproductive apparatus" was in good shape. But, we had never quite gotten to the point of making up our minds to go ahead with the project; then nature stepped in and took it out of our hands, and we were delighted at the prospect of another member of the family. My first visit to the doctor wasn't real reassuring, however. I'd picked a lady doctor this time, as the one we'd had with the twins retired, and she said all was not well with my uterus. Pregnancy had caused it to slip out of place, for some reason or another, and there was only a fifty-fifty chance the pregnancy would proceed satisfactorily. She also told me that the only way I could retain that fifty-fifty chance would be if I broke up each day into four segments by going to bed that many times for a minimum of thirty minutes each time, knee chest position. So, I'd be at school for awhile, making preparations for the Fiesta, directing volunteers, etc., then disappear for a period of time. I hadn't told anyone that I was pregnant, so when I'd return people were always looking for me to ask questions about something or another, and wondering where I'd disappeared to. Finally, the Fiesta had a successful conclusion, and at the next visit to the doctor she reported the situation was improved. All went well until the end of my third month when I started to miscarry the baby. The doctor instructed me to go to bed and stay there and we'd see what developed. I've often wondered if we'd known then what was in store for us, if I'd had the courage to continue trying to have this baby. Sometimes, I guess it's best that we can't see what's ahead. Anyway, I had to turn over the P.T.A. duties over to the vice-pres., and with the help of family and a dear friend, who lived next door, I managed to see each day run into the next, still threatening to miscarry, even though I continued to stay in bed. The doctor would stop by the house to check me and take blood counts every few days, and the day came when the count was so low that it became imperative that I have an immediate blood transfusion. The doctor's hospital didn't have and "B" positive blood on hand, and when she phoned other hospitals in the area they didn't have any either. She called the Red Cross blood bank, in Los Angeles, and told them to get some ready for a trip to Pomona, so Walter jumped in the car to go in to pick it up. I was to make the trip to the hospital five times for transfusions, and several other times to stay a few days when the situation looked bleak. We got through Christmas somehow. All gifts were ordered through the Sears catalog and the tree never looked prettier after the twins and Walter gave it their loving attention. Dr. Carter was beginning to have second thoughts about the decision to keep trying, so at the end of the fifth month she asked Walter and I if we'd go along with the decision that a specialist made after examining me. She told us that the day might come when the transfusions might not bring the count back up, and if that happened we'd be in big trouble. Five other doctors, at the hospital, kept telling her that we were never going to have a live baby, no matter how much effort we put into it. The specialist was coming to Pomona for consultations on difficult cases, and it was with a great deal of trepidation that I went to the hospital one morning, knowing how much his decision would affect us. The doctor examined me and reported the baby had a strong heart heat, then he said he was sure I'd accomplish what I'd set out to do because I had red hair! Said he had a red-headed daughter and knew how determined that type was. He also said that the baby would be born prematurely, but we'll just keep hoping it won't be too premature. Walter and I went back home floating on air after hearing something positive for a change, and I climbed back into bed with more hope than I'd had for quite some time. Time passed slowly until I reached the end of the sixth month. I'd had contractions ever since I'd gone to bed three months previous, but this time there was discomfort with the contractions, which seemed ominous. When Walter called the doctor and reported this new development, she said she'd meet us at the hospital, and after checking me she said, "Well, La Verne, you've carried this baby just as long as you're going to." My heart fell, as I knew there was such a slim chance for the baby to survive being born three months premature. However, the doctor gave orders to get an incubator warmed up, and to start some Alivare flowing through the oxygen tube. She had previously told me that Alivare had just recently been developed during the past year, and had already saved many prematures lives by clearing their lungs when they were too weak to do it themselves. Less than an hour after we arrived at the hospital our tiny baby boy came into the world, as I kept my eyes tightly closed, thinking there was so little chance that he'd live, and it would lessen the heartbreak if I didn't see him. He cried, which kind of surprised me, as I thought he might be too weak to do that. After they put him into the incubator and took him into the nursery I opened my eyes and asked the doctor was it was, and she replied that it was a boy, but not to get my hopes up as she thought he was the smallest she had ever seen. She hadn't taken the time to weigh him, but felt it wasn't much over a pound! For the next two days I dreaded to have anyone enter my room, day or night, because I was so afraid they were coming to tell me the baby had expired. Finally, on the third day the doctor came into the room wearing a wide grin. She had just weighed him and was delighted to find that the grand total was 1 pound, 15 1/2 oz. She told me to get out of bed and get myself down to the nursery to see my new son. I asked her if she could say he had a good chance of surviving, and she replied that she couldn't give me a whole lot of hope until after the ninth day. So, down the hall I went, trying not to look as scared and nervous as I felt. The nurses had pushed the incubator up to the window so I could get a good look at our little Kevin Robert Heffner, and I stood there with perspiration pouring off me, actually making a puddle on the floor! Here was this tiny fellow, looking quite a bit like a baby bird; a head about the size of a tennis ball; I remember his ankles seemed just the diameter of my little finger. He made all the other babies in the nursery look like monsters, they just seemed huge. He had no clothes on, not even a diaper. They said it was easier to regulate and keep his temperature more even, plus they didn't want to handle him more than necessary by putting clothes on him. I went home armed with the paraphenalia needed to pump milk, which I was told wouldn't last more than a couple of weeks, as that method doesn't tend to stimulate milk production as it would if the baby could nurse naturally, but they wanted to have mother's milk just as long as possible for him. I'd set the alarm for every four hours through the night, and since it took 45 minutes to an hour for the pumping procedure sleep was not too plentiful, but knowing it would be a temporary schedule made it easier. Walter would deliver the milk each morning on his way to work, and make a second delivery around 11 p.m. each night when he'd pull up a chair in front of the nursery to look at his wee son, sometimes for an hour. The nurses came to depend on him to fix some of the electrical apparatus which would go on the blink sometimes, and if there was a nervous father pacing the hall, waiting for his baby to be born, Walter would try to calm his fears. The doctor kept congratulating me and encouraging me about the milk production, and one night the nurses sent me an "Elsie, the cow" medal. Sure enough, it must have been all I needed for the supply to continue for the entire three months that Kevin stayed in the incubator. We asked the doctor if we could bring him home on Mother's Day as he had attained the 5 lbs. and 4 oz. weight we'd been shooting for, so she phoned the hospital and told them to get some clothes on PeeWee Heffner as he was going home. One hour later they called her back to report that he didn't like wearing clothes, really putting on a show of disapproval! And the doctor replied "Take them off then. Whatever Little Heffner wants, he gets!" So, next day when we arrived at the hospital we had to dress him for his first time, which he objected to with gusto, and continued to voice his objections for months after he joined our family. David and Richard couldn't stand to hear their little brother cry, and neither could their parents, so he spent a great deal of time being held and rocked.

When I went home at the end of the ten days the doctor tried to persuade me to leave the babies in the nursery for a week, or so, since he knew how crowded we were at home, and we'd only be charged $ 2 per day. He argued that I'd have a chance to regain my strength before taking on the project of the care and feeding of twins... But, I wasn't about to walk out of that hospital without our babies, and besides they were such quiet little darlings, just slept all the time. Anyway, I'd never seen them cry, in fact couldn't get the to wake up enough for me to see them with their eyes open when they were brought to my room, one at a time, of course. Well, on our way home from the hospital they started crying and didn't stop for very long periods, especially during the night, for nine months! Incidentally, the foundation for our new house had been poured the day that the boys were born, so our first little house (800 square feet) was underway, at last, but it would be nine months before we could move in. So, we had a household containing three babies in diapers, as Candy was just a little less than a year old when the twins were born. Lalie's and Jack's house was being built, next door to ours, at the same time. Walter and I spent, at least, part of every night in the livingroom rocking our little ones, or taking them for rides in the car, as the swaying of the bassinet and carbed in the back seat seemed to soothe the colic. Every drivein restaurant, for miles around, knew us, and our babies, since we stopped in so often for cokes, or sundaes, etc. Many evenings were spent around the dining room table with the whole family playing cards and Walter holding one baby and me another. My days consisted of staying in our bedroom changing diapers and feeding the babies, while Mother lived in the kitchen cooking meals and Lalie stayed out in the garage keeping the washing machine in business. Keep in mind these were the days before disposable diapers, not to mention disposable bottles. We always had bottles on the stove being sterilized. I'll never forget the morning of my 25th birthday, after a particularly bad night of being up with the babies almost all night. I had them lying on our bed, changing them, when Lalie appeared in the doorway singing "Happy Birthday". I proceeded to fall on my face between the two babies and started crying my eyes out. Lalie disappeared, only to appear moments later, with Mother and they each took up one baby and ordered me to bed. I haven't any idea what they did to keep them quiet all day, but I fell into a deep sleep and stayed that way until four o'clock in the afternoon. I've always said that was the nicest birthday present I've ever received! Poor Walter had to go to work to get any rest, so both of us looked pretty haggard most of the time. Of course, part of the problem resulted from our determination that the others in the house would be disturbed as little as possible, so we had those babies spoiled, but good, in no time. I never could stand to listen to a baby cry, though, without running to pick it up. It was really great that Candy was such a good baby, and required very little extra attention.
When our house was within just two weeks, or so, of being completed, we discovered that our contractor was using our veteran's priority to obtain materials for a house he was building for himself. Unfortunately, we were also being billed for the materials, as well. So, Walter couldn't put another nail into the project until we had a disinterested party come in to count every board, etc., in order to find out how much we'd been over-billed. Walter was doing most of the construction work, and the only reason we had a contractor was to obtain materials. Jack's, and our houses, sat untouched for at least two months, while we remained in the crowded quarters at the folks' house. Finally, after nine months of waiting for the finished product we were able to move in. What a palace that little house seemed! the babies had their own bedroom, although we soon found out it was best to separate them, especially for naps. Richard was better in the sleeping dept., but David had different ideas & chose to climb out of his crib and get in to mischief. I can't imagine how I could have managed to get through each day, if we hadn't been with my parents during those early months as a mother of twins, but once we were established in our own home I became much more relaxed and the project didn't seem so difficult, although I still had the mistaken idea that any deviation from a strict schedule was disastrous. Also, both Walter and I were very hesitant to leave anyone in charge of the little ones, so we could get away for a breather, which was silly. If we went anywhere the babies went with us, or we stayed home. By this time, Walter had started working in my Father's market, learning the grocery business, and since it was a seven day a week operation, there was very little spare time anyway. For recreation, I joined a bridge club, and often substituted at another, and since the get-to-gethers were held at night, Walter would be on hand to stay with the babies. We'd usually have a couple come over for a bridge game on Sat. night, and that was about the total of social affairs. When the boys were just past two years old, we decided to take our beautiful collie, Rickie, up to Wash. to my Uncle Dan's ranch. David had stumbled over Rickie one day while the dog was sleeping and the startled dog had jumped up and put some deep teeth marks on David's head. It certainly wasn't the dogs fault, but we felt he'd be better off with a large ranch to run around than our small back yard with three little ones, including Candy, making him nervous. Walter took some time off from work and we asked Jeanne and Jack Bare, from across the street, to move in and take care of the boys until we got back from Wash. We though the trip would be a nice change of pace, as we hadn't had any time alone together since we'd been back in Calif., and, I suppose the first day or two was pretty relaxing, but we were soon so lonesome for our little fellas that we could hardly stand it until we got the car turned south once more. We drove all the way home without stopping, arriving at 2 a.m. one morning. Couldn't wait another minute, so got the boys out of bed, thinking they would be overjoyed to see their Mom and Dad after a week's absence, and they acted as if we hadn't been gone at all! Jeanne couldn't tell the boys apart so she'd put a large colored safety pin on one's pants each day before they went out to play in the back yard.

A few weeks after I arrived back in Pomona at my parents' home Walter drove back also, after making a brief stopover in Tucson, Arizona to obtain his official discharge from the Airforce. He had served from June, 1942 until Dec., 1945. Was five days a private, then promoted to Staff Sargeant until graduation from advanced training, in Dalhart, when he became a Flight Officer and subsequently a 2nd. Lieutenant, finishing his tour of duty as a 1st Lieutenant.
Jack came home from his tour of duty about this time also, which meant that he, and Lalie, with their baby, Candace, plus Walter and I, were now living with Mother and Dad. Available housing was simply non-existent in Pomona, at this time, or anyplace else in Calif. All building materials were assigned to military use during the war years, and with so many military bases in Calif. all surplus housing had long since been utilized. Dad had acquired a piece of land some time earlier, which he divided into three lots, selling one to Lalie and Jack for 500 dollars, and since he'd given them a car earlier, he now gave us one of the lots. He was also going into the business of building homes, on a small scale, and Walter was hired as a carpenter on that project. He was working on the roof of one of the houses on the day that I showed up at his workplace to inform him that I'd just had work from my doctor that I was going to have twins! He was so excited about the news that he came home that evening with his hands in pretty bad shape; just kept hitting his hands, instead of the nails. I was just starting in my eighth month, but the doctor said I could have the babies anytime, since most twins were born early. Time inched along, though, and nothing happened and I proceeded to get bigger,, and bigger. The day they were supposed to arrive was March 10, and on March 6 I'd driven Mother downtown to do some afternoon shopping, but instead of walking around with her I opted to sit in the car and wait for her. By the time she returned to the car I was pretty uncomfortable, with too much sitting, I thought. Anyway, we went home and I began putting away some baby blankets that Mother had just purchased, but again became so uncomfortable I waddled into the livingroom and flopped down on the couch. Mother came in to ask if I felt alright and I replied that I'd felt much better, but was positive that it wasn't labor pains. She immediately became very upset, because Lalie had gone off somewhere with the car, and she was supposed to be on hand at all times during the day in case I needed transportation to the hospital. Lalie arrived back home soon, though, and Mother ran out to the driveway to tell her I wasn't feeling well, and when they both came back into the house I, again, reiterated that it wasn't labor pains, merely a tummyache, but Lalie replied that she didn't much relish the idea of delivering twins, so I'd better start thinking about going to the hospital. Finally, Walter arrived home, from work, a little after 5 p.m., and was met by Mother and Lalie instructing him to phone the doctor and tell him my symptoms, which he did. It was the doctor's day off, but his nurse said that he was at the hospital, and considering the date it would be best for me to get over there, even though I still protested it was not labor pains. Walter wanted to clean up and shave before going to the hospital, which he proceeded to us, much against Mother's wishes. She was most anxious for me to vacate the premises, for sure. One time she came into the livingroom and with a very disgusted tone of voice said, "Do you know what Walter's doing while he's shaving? he's whistling, that's what!" Soon he came in and said, "O.K., Honey let's get going." I started to raise up from my prone position and couldn't move. So, Walter carried me out to the car, and between he, and Lalie, they pushed and pulled me into the back seat. Lalie sat on the floor while I tried to get into some kind of a comfortable position all over the seat. When we arrived at the ambulance entrance of the hospital a nurse met us with a wheelchair, but Lalie jumped out of the car to tell her I couldn't sit, to go get a gurney. Needless to say, Walter and Lalie must have been glad to see me disappear up the elevator so they could relax in the visitor's waiting room. Meanwhile, up on the maternity floor, a nurse checked me and said we'd better proceed directly to the delivery room. By this time, it was almost six o'clock and time for the shifts to change, so the delivery room nurses were less than happy to see this "customer" show up just as they were supposed to get off duty. When I told them it would be twins, they really groaned, because it usually takes much longer, but the last thing I cared about at that stage was the possibility the nurses would have to ear cold dinners in the dining room that night. After the head nurse made several phone calls the doctor strolled in, and less than five minutes later, David Alan was born at 6:07 p.m., weighing 6 lbs. 2 1/2 oz. Four minutes later, at 6:11 p.m. Richard Jon arrived weighing 5 lbs. 14 1/2 oz. Down in the waiting room Lalie suggested to Walter that he ought to inquire at the desk, on maternity, how things were going, which he did, and was told that the twins had just gone by on their way to the nursery and I'd be down in a few minutes. We'd all been at the hospital a total of approximately 20 minutes. In those days it was not at all unusual for the new Mother and baby to stay in the hospital for ten days, which I did, bored out of my mind. I had a private room and bath which cost $ 10 per day. The doctor's bill totaled $ 125, which included prenatal, delivery, and care of the two babies for ten days in the nursery.

I started out and upon reaching the town found there wasn't a tire to be had there, but maybe in the next town. Finally located one there which was questionable, at best, but was told it was only slightly better than the one they took off. By this time, it was getting dark, so it was one nervous gal who limped home to Walter, who spent the next three days repairing the many things wrong with the car, and mumbling what a louzy brother I had who would turn such a broken down car over to his sister! At the completion of Walter's training period, instead of an overseas assignment, he was given a list of five airbases, and told to choose the one he'd prefer to be sent. We chose the one just outside of Sedalia, Missouri, as that was the closest to Calif., and also knew that Helen and Parker Rogers were stationed there, as Parker had returned from the South Pacific some time earlier. (Helen and Parker were our good friends we'd lived with in Dalhart at the beginning of our Army days.) We started for Sedalia, stopping in every town along the way, at the ration board, trying to get permission to buy tires for our car. Since Walter was on travel orders it was easier to negotiate. By the time we reached Missouri we had all four tires replaced, so now we could go out in the car without stopping to patch a tire every few miles. Helen and Parker had managed to find an apt. for us, located in the basement of someone's house, which was kind of dark and dreary, but better than the single room we'd been used to getting. Not long after we arrived there, Parker was released from active duty and they were on their way down south to Carthage, Missouri, where their home was. We took over their apt., which consisted of the entire upstairs of a two story house. The people who owned it were named Wigton, and they turned out to be not only our landlords, but our very good friends, as well. The included us in all their family get-to-gethers, picnics, fishing expeditions, etc. Since the war was drawing to a close, and we could be quite confident that Walter wouldn't be going overseas, after all, plus his training and flying time had lessened to a minimum, our stay in Sedalia was the most pleasant and normal we'd experienced during the three plus years we'd been married. Perhaps that had something to do with me finding myself pregnant once more, and overjoyed about it. I welcomed the morning sickness as an old friend, and Mrs. Wigton gladly came tripping up the stairs each morning to give me some dry toast to munch on before getting out of bed which helped a lot. I didn't want to take a chance on the long drive home to Calif. in the car, so when Walter was about to be released, and I was four months along with the pregnancy I flew home, and thus ended THE WAR YEARS......

A nurse came to get him, but he was back in my room almost immediately, saying the baby was too weak to transfuse. She lived just four hours and her mother never saw her, or held her. We named her Janis Lynn. Many years later we found out that the heart murmur we'd been told was the cause couldn't have resulted in death. For a premature baby to survive four hours, or even been born alive, after all the drugs I'd been given, she would have had to have a very strong heart. The following months was a time when our loss was ever present. I tried not to cry when Walter could see me, for I knew how badly he felt; instead I'd hold it all in until he was asleep at night. My weight dropped to 107 lbs. and for the life of me I couldn't get it up past that mark. That Fall Dad wrote to ask me if I'd go up to their cattle ranch, in Oregon, to help them get the hay in. I doubt that the entire reason was the labor shortage up there, but the folks probably thought it would do me good to get away from the memories in Lubbock for a short while. So, I hopped on the train and was off to be a farmer for six weeks. Mostly, I drove the truck that carried the bales of hay to the storage area. The days started at the crack of dawn and ended when it was too dark to see what we were doing, but the hard work must have been what I needed, for my appetite returned and I started sleeping better. At the end of six weeks it was so good to get back to Walter and our home in Lubbock.
The time came when the glider training program was drawing to a close at South Plains Airfield, and we learned that our next stop would be North Carolina, where Walter would take his three months' overseas training. First, we took the car, dog, and household items back to Pomona to park them "for the duration." Then, took the train to Dallas, where we met friends who were driving the rest of the way and welcomed a couple of passengers. We managed to find rooms in private homes about 20 miles from the Maxton-Laurenburg Base, so settled in for that brief stay. We had to walk a short distance to town for meals, which wasn't too bad, but the choice of menus at local cafe's kept Walter in a state of indigestion most of the time. Peanut fed pork was the only meat available, so every dish contained greasy pork as an ingredient, which didn't seem to agree with Walter's system.
A short while, after we arrived in N. Carolina, we had a phone call from Jack, saying he was scheduled to go overseas almost immediately, and would I come up to Newport News, Virginia to get his car? That way I'd have a car to return to Calif. in when Walter left for his overseas suty. When I got off the train in Newport News, and went to the hotel where a friend of Jack's was to hand over the keys, and tell me where the car could be located I tried to quiz him as to the condition of the car. He assured me that the only flaw was a dent in the gas tank, and I shouldn't let the gauge fall below 1/4. Next day when I started driving back to N. Carolina it was apparent that the car was in pretty bad shape, but I managed to get into a very deserted and lonely spot before I had a flat tire. With my high heels clicking on the pavement I walked about a half mile back down the road, where I'd noticed a large truck and semi parked, when I'd passed a little earlier. A black man was changing a tire on his truck and when I inquired if he could perform the same operation on my car, he very politely told me that he was already very late delivering his load so couldn't take the time, but if I'd go back to the car he was sure someone would come along to help me soon. So, back I went and started unloading all of the clothes and household items in the trunk, which Lalie and Jack had with them at their last assignment. I figured if help didn't arrive it was up to me, so I might as well get started. About then, I looked up and saw a pickup passing by and pulling in front of my car to stop. The bed of the pickup contained about ten back men. A white man jumped out of the cab, came back to where I stood and asked if they could help, at the same time motioning to the other men to get busy with the tire. Well, they had the tire changed, and everything loaded back in the truck, in about five minutes, but their boss informed me that I should get a replacement for the spare tire they'd put on as it was in very bad shape. He told me there was a town about 15 miles down the road and I should not go further than that, and to drive slow.

One really bad aspect of out time in Dalhart was the terrific number of fatal glider accidents, due to the extreme weather conditions, especially the 80 mile an hour winds which came up without warning sometime. Some of the men would occationally say, "Wom, I"ll be glad to get overseas in the fighting, where it's safer than in this place." Well, graduation day arrived, at last, and something happened that I'd not dared to hope for. Instead of Walter being sent overseas, and me wending my way back to Calif., he was made an instructor. Eleven, out of a class of sixty six, were chosen, and even though we knew how hazardous that job could be, it meant we could be together, instead of being separated by one of the oceans. The accidents in the field became more numerous as the weather worsened, and one day we were notified that all personnel was being transferred a little over two hundred miles south, to Lubbock, Texas. Walter had to ferry one of the gliders, so I hurriedly hitched a ride with Dorothy and Stan Prestwich, with instructions to meet Walter at a certain hotel in Lubbock that night. As we entered the town I was sure I'd been transported to Heaven, for it was apparent that there was, at least, a chance of locating something to live in comfortably, for a change. Next day we found an apt. over a garage, which we lived in for not much more than a month, until one day I discovered a really nice brick house. One of the two bedrooms was locked up, as it contained some personal effects of the Navy couple, who were the owners, who were stationed in San Fransisco. The rent was just $ 45, less than the $ 75 most of our friends were paying. And, there we were to stay for just over two years. I'd gone home to get our car soon after arriving in Lubbock, so we now had a much more normal life, at last. In fact, life became so normal and right that we acquired a little collie pup to raise, and started thinking about the possibility of having a baby. We still felt that Walter would be going overseas eventually, and had to face the fact that there was a chance he might not return. Would it be wise to have a child I might have to raise alone? After thinking it over I decided that no matter what happened I wanted someone, besides myself, to think about, and care for if he did go overseas. The days, and nights, wouldn't be as lonely while he was gone, so the pros seemed to outweigh the cons. And soon I was pregnant and both of us were thrilled beyond words. One night, when Walter was flying with two of his students, they crash landed into a roofless building called the glider barn. Both wings were torn off as they hit the outside wall, and a 2 by 4 board came through the windshield causing a large gash in Walter's scalp, plus a piece of the plexiglass struck him in the eye. Also, both ankles were bent backwards under the seat causing severe sprains. One of the students had a broken ankle and the other sustained a broken finger, and the glider was a total loss. The accident happened about 2 a.m., but Walter wouldn't let anyone call me at that hour; instead, next morning about 7 a.m., when he would ordinarily be returning home, he had some hospital orderlies carry him to a phone, so he could call himself. He made it sound as if the accident was pretty minor, and the only reason he was in the hospital was to be checked over, and to give the army doctors something to do. The sight that greeted me when I went out to see him was rather a shock; eyes black and blue, terrible looking sewed up gash on his head, and the most painful for him was his legs. They were black, blue, green, and yellow from the ankles to his thighs and he couldn't even stand the weight of a sheet on them. He stayed in the hospital for a week and was on crutches for about two months. It was sometime, during this period, that I started to threaten to have the baby early. Then at the 7 1/2 month mark, it happened. When I arrived at the hospital at 9 o'clock a student nurse put me to bed, gave me a shot of something, and told Walter to go on home as I'd be sleeping the rest of the night. Sometime during the night I'd awakened with labor pains, so called the nurse to inform her. She again gave me a shot that put me to sleep again, and the next thing I knew was opening my eyes with Walter sitting by my bed (February 24, 1944) telling me I'd had a black-haired baby girl! I couldn't believe it until I lifted up the covers to look at my deflated tummy. He then informed me that the baby wasn't doing too well and he would be giving her a blood transfusion soon.