It is June 2018 ... everything is pretty much the same ... days are long and lonely without Tom. Not a day goes by that I don't tell him that I miss him. Almost seven years, now. I decided to rejoin Lions Club as long as I could go with J.& J. I felt that I really needed to get out amongst people. The Calhan dinners are only once a month during the summer months, then in Sept., go back to twice a month. I do really enjoy them and visiting with friends.
I often think of my Mom who was 76 when my dad passed away. She lived 20 more years and passed just shy of 96. Her father was 104, so I guess we have longevity in our family.
All for now ....
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
Friday, April 3, 2015
When Kenna posted a comment on facebook about having pancakes with her good friend at a restaurant, I couldn't help but remember my attitude towards pancakes. When I was a child, my parents were very poor, so for some meals all we had was pancakes. Mother made homemade brown sugar syrup which helped. Pancakes, in my estimation, have always been "poor man's food". So when the Pancake House came into being in La Crosse, I just couldn't imagine anyone paying good money for pancakes. Times have changed, and I have had pancakes more than once with my restaurant breakfast, though I prefer waffles. Yes, I have fond memories of pancakes and potatoes. As my sister, Fern, once said, our mother had a 101 ways to fix potatoes. But being poor has given me the appreciation for the many food choices available and all that I have now.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
FEELING SAD
August 16, 2011 was the sadist day of my life. I lost a wonderful man, a wonderful husband, and a wonderful father. Thomas Guenther passed away at the age of 75 of advanced lung cancer. I think of him every day and of our 42 years of marriage ... a marriage that was happy and fulfilling.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Dirt on Dad!
When my granddaughter wanted me to write about her father so that she can get some "dirt on him", I bit my tongue and remembered when shoveling dirt on one of my other sons backfired. I don't remember the details, but I do remember the players, one Margy Garland and son, Sam Donnell. They were dating and when she asked me about Sam, I shared something cute (that only a mother can share) with her. It went into her "little black book" and was used as fodder for her next dispute with Sam. I learned from that experience to keep all tidbits to myself. Fortunately, that relationship went nowhere and Sam is currently a happy bachelor and single father. Lesson learned!
I met Samuel Randoph Donnell when I was sixteen and he was twenty-one. My sister Fern worked at Eulers drug store (La Crosse, Wisconsin) where there was a soda fountain. Tommy Hackner always came in for his shot of bromoselzer, and he and Fern became friends. It was through Fern that Tommy became friends with our family. Tommy liked to go shooting with my Dad, so it was not unusual that one time he brought his friend with him. Fern and I often went out shooting with our father, also. That friend happened to be Samuel Donnell, and I just happened to go out shooting that time with them. Sam worked at Skaff Dry Cleaners at the time. For some reason, Sam took a liking to me, though I wasn't sure why, as I was tall, thin, and gangly. He was as tall as me and dark and very handsome. He didn't have a car, so getting from his home on 922 State Street to our place on Barlow Street was quite an effort on his part. He may have ridden the bus at first, but he used my father's old bicycle later.
I car hopped at a root beer stand on South Losey, a couple of miles from my home. I rode my bicycle to and from that job. Sam would ride dad's bike to the root beer stand after my shift ended and escort me home. Often this would be at midnight when the stand closed. We did a lot of biking on our dates. And we also rode the bus to and from the movie theater in downtown La Crosse. I was eighteen and in my sophomore year of college when we married and twenty when Randy was born.
Sam was born October 5, 1927, in Oak Park, Illinois. He had a nurse, whom he called Googie, when he was born and I think, until he was five years old. His parents owned a cigar/tobacco and card shop in Oak Park. In the crash of 1929, they lost everything. Sam was about five when Sam, Sr. and Irma moved to La Crosse and into the other half of Aunt Lou's house on State Street. Sam, Sr. took a job with the Linker Hotel operating the elevator. In those days, there were no self-serve ones. There was an elevator accident in which Sam, Sr. was injured. I do not know the extent, as when I first come to know him, he was old and shuffling. He also had Parkinson disease with the usual hand tremors. Irma had been a third grade school teacher until she met and married Sam, Sr. She was thirty-five when he was born and Sam, Sr. was about fifty-five.
Irma was always concerned about "what the neighbors would think". So when son Sam bought a used 1939-40 Ford, he was asked not to park it on the street in front of the house. What would the neighbors think? Sam went along with his mother and parked in the back of the house by entrance of the alley. But we were both of the attitude of "who in the hell cares what the neighbors think".
After we were married (June 30, 1951) Sam took a job with the Trane company. That is where he met Clarice Hougan. Clarice and Al would become life long friends. (Al, who had childhood diabetes, died at the age of 40.) Sometime after that, the television station opened up and was in need of a staff photographer. Sam got the job. He had been an aerial photographer in the air force and continued his photography ventures after he got out. If you were to ask me if he had been married before, I would have to truthfully answer, yes ... to one Norma Breeden who lived in Indiana. According to her, her daughter, Rita, was Sam's daughter, born after a summer tryst at the Grand hotel where they both worked the year that he was seventeen and she nineteen. Both Sam and his mother vehemently denied his paternity, but Irma did dutifully pay the two dollars a week that Norma demanded in child support. Sam refused to pay and one time the sheriff paid him a visit to enforce the child support payments. Randy was a babe in my arms at the time. Money was short for Sam and me so I remain ever grateful for Irma's financial sacrifice. Rita got married at the age of sixteen.
Sam loved to hunt and shoot his guns. We went to the rifle range most Sundays, and he would go fox hunting on the weekends. One time when we were prairie dog hunting in Montana with my dad and his buddy, Myrt Williams, Sam was standing by a prairie dog hole when a rattlesnake appeared, coiled and ready to strike. Sam pulled his pistol and shot the snake dead. From that point on, we always called him Dead Eye Sam. He had a steady hand with a gun and a good eye with a camera.
It was through Sam and the good graces of Ed Hutchins that I was able to audition for television. Ed must have seen something, for after suggesting that I tame my heavy eyebrows, he gave me the opportunity. I was free lance and that was okay with me. Everything was live at that time and in black and white. I did intros for various tv shows (My Three Sons for one) and also did live commercials during the noontime show. (Sunbeam bread and the American Dairy Association for example) I did tame my eyebrows to the extent that Ed commented with approval that they looked like something out of the 30s. (The Jean Harlow look.) With Sam's help, I learned how to do makeup for black and white television. My television career lasted until late 1969 when after divorcing Sam in 68, I married Tom Guenther and moved to Hartland/North Lake, Wisconsin where Tom would take a job teaching math at Arrowhead High School and I would concentrate on being super mom.
I met Samuel Randoph Donnell when I was sixteen and he was twenty-one. My sister Fern worked at Eulers drug store (La Crosse, Wisconsin) where there was a soda fountain. Tommy Hackner always came in for his shot of bromoselzer, and he and Fern became friends. It was through Fern that Tommy became friends with our family. Tommy liked to go shooting with my Dad, so it was not unusual that one time he brought his friend with him. Fern and I often went out shooting with our father, also. That friend happened to be Samuel Donnell, and I just happened to go out shooting that time with them. Sam worked at Skaff Dry Cleaners at the time. For some reason, Sam took a liking to me, though I wasn't sure why, as I was tall, thin, and gangly. He was as tall as me and dark and very handsome. He didn't have a car, so getting from his home on 922 State Street to our place on Barlow Street was quite an effort on his part. He may have ridden the bus at first, but he used my father's old bicycle later.
I car hopped at a root beer stand on South Losey, a couple of miles from my home. I rode my bicycle to and from that job. Sam would ride dad's bike to the root beer stand after my shift ended and escort me home. Often this would be at midnight when the stand closed. We did a lot of biking on our dates. And we also rode the bus to and from the movie theater in downtown La Crosse. I was eighteen and in my sophomore year of college when we married and twenty when Randy was born.
Sam at age five.
Sam was born October 5, 1927, in Oak Park, Illinois. He had a nurse, whom he called Googie, when he was born and I think, until he was five years old. His parents owned a cigar/tobacco and card shop in Oak Park. In the crash of 1929, they lost everything. Sam was about five when Sam, Sr. and Irma moved to La Crosse and into the other half of Aunt Lou's house on State Street. Sam, Sr. took a job with the Linker Hotel operating the elevator. In those days, there were no self-serve ones. There was an elevator accident in which Sam, Sr. was injured. I do not know the extent, as when I first come to know him, he was old and shuffling. He also had Parkinson disease with the usual hand tremors. Irma had been a third grade school teacher until she met and married Sam, Sr. She was thirty-five when he was born and Sam, Sr. was about fifty-five.
Sam is probably nine-ten years old. Sam, Sr. about sixty-five.
Sam was about 17-19 years old when this was taken. He had joined the Air Force when he was seventeen and mustered out when he was nineteen.
Irma was always concerned about "what the neighbors would think". So when son Sam bought a used 1939-40 Ford, he was asked not to park it on the street in front of the house. What would the neighbors think? Sam went along with his mother and parked in the back of the house by entrance of the alley. But we were both of the attitude of "who in the hell cares what the neighbors think".
After we were married (June 30, 1951) Sam took a job with the Trane company. That is where he met Clarice Hougan. Clarice and Al would become life long friends. (Al, who had childhood diabetes, died at the age of 40.) Sometime after that, the television station opened up and was in need of a staff photographer. Sam got the job. He had been an aerial photographer in the air force and continued his photography ventures after he got out. If you were to ask me if he had been married before, I would have to truthfully answer, yes ... to one Norma Breeden who lived in Indiana. According to her, her daughter, Rita, was Sam's daughter, born after a summer tryst at the Grand hotel where they both worked the year that he was seventeen and she nineteen. Both Sam and his mother vehemently denied his paternity, but Irma did dutifully pay the two dollars a week that Norma demanded in child support. Sam refused to pay and one time the sheriff paid him a visit to enforce the child support payments. Randy was a babe in my arms at the time. Money was short for Sam and me so I remain ever grateful for Irma's financial sacrifice. Rita got married at the age of sixteen.
Sam loved to hunt and shoot his guns. We went to the rifle range most Sundays, and he would go fox hunting on the weekends. One time when we were prairie dog hunting in Montana with my dad and his buddy, Myrt Williams, Sam was standing by a prairie dog hole when a rattlesnake appeared, coiled and ready to strike. Sam pulled his pistol and shot the snake dead. From that point on, we always called him Dead Eye Sam. He had a steady hand with a gun and a good eye with a camera.
It was through Sam and the good graces of Ed Hutchins that I was able to audition for television. Ed must have seen something, for after suggesting that I tame my heavy eyebrows, he gave me the opportunity. I was free lance and that was okay with me. Everything was live at that time and in black and white. I did intros for various tv shows (My Three Sons for one) and also did live commercials during the noontime show. (Sunbeam bread and the American Dairy Association for example) I did tame my eyebrows to the extent that Ed commented with approval that they looked like something out of the 30s. (The Jean Harlow look.) With Sam's help, I learned how to do makeup for black and white television. My television career lasted until late 1969 when after divorcing Sam in 68, I married Tom Guenther and moved to Hartland/North Lake, Wisconsin where Tom would take a job teaching math at Arrowhead High School and I would concentrate on being super mom.
This family picture was taken about 1965 during the height of my television career.
Sometime after our divorce, Sam moved to Montana where he married Rhoda. I think he was staff photographer for a newspaper. They divorce and he later married Ella. Sam was a heavy drinker, really an alcoholic. I am not sure how it all came about, but Randy and Sam traveled to Montana and brought their father back. I think he lived with his mother until she went to a nursing home. Then he moved to rooms in a motel on Highway 16. Irma died at 95 and he died at the age of 69. He is buried in the veteran's section of Mormon Coulee Cemetery, La Crosse, Wisconsin. She is buried in Oak Grove Cemetery.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
My English Ancestry
One of the most delightful things I got from my English ancestry was the joy of drinking tea. Yes, I am a confirmed tea-aholic. I do drink coffee, but I seem to enjoy my afternoon (really anytime) tea and crumpets (cookies), I don't remember my English grandfather Riddiough drinking tea, however; he much preferred his coffee. My German grandmother Riddiough couldn't drink coffee because of her heart problem, so she instead, boiled water and added a dash of cream or milk for her hot morning beverage. I have tried that, but it didn't do much for me.
I like hearty black tea, but do brew a cup of green tea daily, supposedly good for something, but don't remember what. My mother first introduced me to tea when I was about six years old. We lived in a one room, cold cement floor cabin in the Krause Kabin Kourt. (There, as I remember, was where my father forced me to eat some celery ... which I promptly gagged on. I never liked celery after that. (Till now)) I was in first grade at Boulevard School, a country school on Losey Blvd. (La Crosse, WI) where I completed four grades and half of fifth grade. (The school closed, and we were sent to Longfellow School near Green Bay Street.) Interesting, a big K-Mart store replaces the Texaco station and Kabin Kourt at the corner of Hwy 33 and Losey Blvd. And the Winter Gardens Roller Skating Rink and Wonder Tavern have also been torn down and replaced. But I am getting nostalgic ... nothing is static ... change is inevitable.
My mother also introduce me to coffee at that time. I think, for her, it was something hot to send me off to school with. I am sure hot chocolate was out of her budget, and neither tea nor coffee appeared to be no, no's for children, maybe a part of her upbringing. Let's face it, we were dirt poor!
But getting back to tea ... it has always been my favorite comfort drink. Some English contaminate their tea with cream and sugar, but me, I like mine strong and black ... so strong, I do not remove the tea bag. Yes, it does get a little bitter. Sometimes, if I have one handy, I will squeeze a bit of lemon in. Sitting out on my front patio on warm summer days with a cup of tea in hand is one of my favorite past times. I gaze out on the broad expanse of prairie and imagine the string of wagon trains making their way across, eager to find water and a place to camp for the night. I imagine a band of Ute Indians charging across the plains in pursuit of buffalo. But alas, my eyes wander to the left and there is my neighbor's trashy house/yard and deplorable outbuilding and the image is promptly shattered.
I have often thought, if there was a previous life, if I had been one of the pioneers crossing the vast plains to find a new life in the West. I have always had a "love affair" with the West and the vast open spaces. Which brings to mind an essay I wrote when I was in third grade. In it I wrote that I wanted to marry a rancher, teach school, and fly an airplane. I think in a way, I accomplished all three. Though I did not marry I rancher, I retired onto a former ranch where cattle graze during the summer months, I did teach school for a total of 15 years, pausing to marry twice and raise six children and write for a newspaper, and I did take the controls of a small plane briefly while flying with a friend of my first spouse, Sam Donnell. I think his name was Dave Mears. I still remember that hair raising plane ride, but thankfully, Dave was a good pilot and we landed safely on the ground.
I know my grandchildren have their own impressions of me, but I do want one of them to be that of a part English, tea drinking grandmother who wore jeans (still do) and rode horses. Sadly, my two horses have gone to horse heaven and I have to settle now for riding my John Deere tractor and driving my gray metallic Nissan truck.
That is my father's Model A Ford that he dubbed Nellie. That was the car I was nearly born in as my parents rushed to my grandparent's (Strahl) farm for my birth. I am not sure which cabin was ours ... but I think is is the one behind Little Nellie.
I like hearty black tea, but do brew a cup of green tea daily, supposedly good for something, but don't remember what. My mother first introduced me to tea when I was about six years old. We lived in a one room, cold cement floor cabin in the Krause Kabin Kourt. (There, as I remember, was where my father forced me to eat some celery ... which I promptly gagged on. I never liked celery after that. (Till now)) I was in first grade at Boulevard School, a country school on Losey Blvd. (La Crosse, WI) where I completed four grades and half of fifth grade. (The school closed, and we were sent to Longfellow School near Green Bay Street.) Interesting, a big K-Mart store replaces the Texaco station and Kabin Kourt at the corner of Hwy 33 and Losey Blvd. And the Winter Gardens Roller Skating Rink and Wonder Tavern have also been torn down and replaced. But I am getting nostalgic ... nothing is static ... change is inevitable.
My mother also introduce me to coffee at that time. I think, for her, it was something hot to send me off to school with. I am sure hot chocolate was out of her budget, and neither tea nor coffee appeared to be no, no's for children, maybe a part of her upbringing. Let's face it, we were dirt poor!
But getting back to tea ... it has always been my favorite comfort drink. Some English contaminate their tea with cream and sugar, but me, I like mine strong and black ... so strong, I do not remove the tea bag. Yes, it does get a little bitter. Sometimes, if I have one handy, I will squeeze a bit of lemon in. Sitting out on my front patio on warm summer days with a cup of tea in hand is one of my favorite past times. I gaze out on the broad expanse of prairie and imagine the string of wagon trains making their way across, eager to find water and a place to camp for the night. I imagine a band of Ute Indians charging across the plains in pursuit of buffalo. But alas, my eyes wander to the left and there is my neighbor's trashy house/yard and deplorable outbuilding and the image is promptly shattered.
I have often thought, if there was a previous life, if I had been one of the pioneers crossing the vast plains to find a new life in the West. I have always had a "love affair" with the West and the vast open spaces. Which brings to mind an essay I wrote when I was in third grade. In it I wrote that I wanted to marry a rancher, teach school, and fly an airplane. I think in a way, I accomplished all three. Though I did not marry I rancher, I retired onto a former ranch where cattle graze during the summer months, I did teach school for a total of 15 years, pausing to marry twice and raise six children and write for a newspaper, and I did take the controls of a small plane briefly while flying with a friend of my first spouse, Sam Donnell. I think his name was Dave Mears. I still remember that hair raising plane ride, but thankfully, Dave was a good pilot and we landed safely on the ground.
I know my grandchildren have their own impressions of me, but I do want one of them to be that of a part English, tea drinking grandmother who wore jeans (still do) and rode horses. Sadly, my two horses have gone to horse heaven and I have to settle now for riding my John Deere tractor and driving my gray metallic Nissan truck.
Friday, December 24, 2010
BESSIE MAE PUGH ... HER STORY
To begin to tell Grandma Bessie's story, we have to go back to Thomas Hall, born in England in 1672. He married Sarah Brave, born 1674. He migrated to Pennsylvania by 1708. His son, William Hall I, was born ca. 1708, but exact date is unknown as is anything else about this family. His first wife was Hannah Richardson, born ca 1712. Hannah was a Quaker, so the Halls, though English, would most likely were Quakers. It was by his second wife, Mary Crow, born ca 1720, that he fathered William Hall II born 1743. Nothing appears to be know about Mary Crow. Could she be our Indian connection? William II served in the Revolutionary War. He had two wives and six children. Our family line continues with William II's daughter Mary Ann Hall by his second wife, Susanna William.
Mary Ann Hall, born 1790, married Joseph Peter Paris. Paris was born in France. Family legend has it that Paris joined the French navy under Napoleon Bonapart and served a total of seven years with four years to that time frame fighting the British. He is said to have jumped ship in America. Their daughter, Susanna, married Ephraim Martin, they had ten children. Which gets us closer to Bessie Mae. Martha Jane Martin, daughter of Susanna and Ephraim, is Bessie's mother. The nationality of the Martin family is unknown, but it might be surmised that they, too, were of English decent, though Martin was a common French name also.
Ephraim's father was Urias Martin, born 1774 in Virginia. Urias Martin's father was James Martin, born in New Jersey ca 1750.
I do not have any memories of grandma Bessie. I know that we visited them, though not very often. It was said that she like to go bare foot and that she did not put soap in her dishwater as she threw the water onto her plants. She was diabetic, but the details of that are also unknown to me. I do know that she died in 1951, in her early seventies, of complications of that disease. It was said that she did not take care of herself in that respect. But, thinking back, I am wondering how much was know about diabetes back then.
She gave birth to eight children, my father being the first.
Mary Ann Hall, born 1790, married Joseph Peter Paris. Paris was born in France. Family legend has it that Paris joined the French navy under Napoleon Bonapart and served a total of seven years with four years to that time frame fighting the British. He is said to have jumped ship in America. Their daughter, Susanna, married Ephraim Martin, they had ten children. Which gets us closer to Bessie Mae. Martha Jane Martin, daughter of Susanna and Ephraim, is Bessie's mother. The nationality of the Martin family is unknown, but it might be surmised that they, too, were of English decent, though Martin was a common French name also.
Ephraim's father was Urias Martin, born 1774 in Virginia. Urias Martin's father was James Martin, born in New Jersey ca 1750.
I do not have any memories of grandma Bessie. I know that we visited them, though not very often. It was said that she like to go bare foot and that she did not put soap in her dishwater as she threw the water onto her plants. She was diabetic, but the details of that are also unknown to me. I do know that she died in 1951, in her early seventies, of complications of that disease. It was said that she did not take care of herself in that respect. But, thinking back, I am wondering how much was know about diabetes back then.
She gave birth to eight children, my father being the first.
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