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.

So, off I dashed to the train depot to buy a ticket to Dalhart, Texas, only to be informed the closest destination I could reach was Amarillo. Later I found out that the train I took did, indeed, go through Dalhart. Anyway, I quickly wrote a letter to Walter telling him that I would get off the train in Amarillo, (80 miles from Dalhart) and if he wasn't there to meet me I would go to the largest hotel and wait for him there. I sent the letter special delivery, which turned out to be a huge mistake, as it must have sat in the Dalhart post office for days, waiting for someone to get around to making that delivery out the the airbase. So, when I wasn't met at the depot I looked in the phone book and chose the Amarillo Hotel since it was the first one listed and I thought Walter would start with that one if he tried to locate me. Three days later, after sitting in that room, afraid to budge, I received the call I'd been waiting for. Walter had finally gotten my letter, so had planted himself in a pay phone booth, told the operator his story; that his wife was in a hotel in Amarillo, but he didn't know which one. There were 35 hotels in the town and the operator started calling each one, and started at the bottom of the list! It was about 8 p.m. when she reached me, and Walter had been in the phone booth for a long while feeding the pay phone. He told me there was a bus leaving for Dalhart at 9 o'clock that night, but I elected to wait until morning, so he said he'd have one of his friend's wife meet me and take me to our new abode, since he'd be flying when I arrived. Sure enough, as I stepped out of the bus a young woman walked up to me, introduced herself and took me in tow. When we drove up to the house, where we were to live, it was an older frame house badly in need of some tender loving care, but the outside of the house was the smaller shock than the one that greeted me inside. There were five rooms and one bath, and three couples, plus the landlady, were the residents. One couple slept in the parlour, Walter and I would be in the living room, the landlady slept in the dining room, and another army couple were ensconced in the bedroom. There were no halls so everyone traversed all the other rooms to get to the bathroom, which boasted a huge old fashioned footed bathtub. Our closet was a portable affair which barely held Walter's uniforms with my things tucked into nooks and crannies. We had a screen to dress and undress behind in case of heavy traffic. Our rent was $ 7 per week, and didn't include kitchen privileges, so we had to walk the few blocks to town to the only restaurant which hadn't been declared "off-limits" to soldiers, because the others hadn't passed the health inspection. It was located in Dalhart's only hotel, and the menu never changed; no matter what you ordered it was always accompanied by black-eyed peas. One of the couples in our house became our closest friends, and we've remained so to this day. Parker and Helen Rogers made our seven month stay in that very strange set -up, not only congenial, but pleasurable. Our landlady had informed us that we'd land in the street if she caught us taking a drink or playing cards in her house, so we played bridge on one of the beds, when she was out of the house. Helen had a sandwich toaster, that we took into the bathroom to make cheese sandwiches on; then we'd heat up a can of soup on top of the small bathroom heater to avoid making the trip to town, especially when it snowed and was so cold. I remember the first time I had clothes freeze on the clothesline and I was afraid to touch them for fear they'd break. The only facility for washing our clothes was the bathroom sink so that was an every day pastime. After we'd been there for a few weeks Helen and I asked the landlady if we could have kitchen privileges, for an extra fee, of course. We were thrilled when she said "yes" even though it took us two full days to get the kitchen clean enough to cook our first meal. The landlady's husband had dies the previous Sept. and she hadn't washed a dish or cooking utensil since that time. There were dirty dishes piled high in the sink, dishes and pans, some half full of cooked food, with green mold on top, covered the large table in the middle of the floor, and the pantry shelves contained the same welcome sight. But, we happily scrubbed and cleaned, even though the landlady was terribly insulted and let us know it in no uncertain terms. It was a sad time when Parker, who was in the class just ahead of Walter, graduated and was soon on his way overseas, while Helen went to her home in Carthage, Missouri. By that time I'd gotten to know some of the pilots' wives, so I didn't get too lonely during the day.