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!
Monday, March 1, 2010
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!
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.
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.
Friday, February 26, 2010
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."
..."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."
Saturday, February 20, 2010
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. "
"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. "
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
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."
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."
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
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.
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.
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