No sooner was I finished with my last blog post about Coronado than I thought of more things to share. I know I can get redundant, repeating myself, but I also don't want to forget anything.
Yesterday Laura and I were walking down an alley in Coronado which made me remember several things. I remember when not all of the alleys were paved. It took a long time for all the alleys in Coronado to be paved. Laura even remembers that some were not paved when she was young. I assume they are all paved now. Many communities still have unpaved alleyways. We don't even have alleys in the area we live in.
Our last place of residence in Coronado was on Olive Lane, an alley. It is an interesting alley, shaped like a T, with little cottages facing the alley. There are other interesting alleys especially named such as Adella Lane. Paul and his family lived on Adella Lane in the little house they built before they built their larger home in front, on Pomona Avenue. They lived on Pomona Avenue when I met and married Paul. That is the house that our children remember.
Another memory that was triggered while walking in the alley is a faint one from my childhood. I know it is true because the subject came up a couple of years ago while visiting Paul's brother Charlie and cousin George. The conversation starts with, "Do you remember the alligator in Coronado?" I guess this was a conversation starter during several gatherings that year. Yes, I do remember the alligator. As children several of us looked over the tall fence in an alley to get a good look. It had a nice pond and was securely enclosed in the yard. I wonder how many years it was there.
When my children were young the talk of the town and in the Coronado Journal was the cougar. One family had a real live cougar. I think one of our children knew someone from that family. She may have been in Bill or Griff's class. Paul wrote about the cougar in one of his many letters to the editor. I still run into articles about the Coronado cougar.
When I was young our family raised chickens in Coronado. I remember having an incubator to keep the young chicks warm. They grew fast and my parents sold them as fryers. Yes, Dad had to butcher them. He was not a farm boy, but he learned to do this. My mother was a farm girl and knew how to clean them so they could be eaten. Some grew to be hens and provided eggs. One was our pet and we were attached to her. She is the subject of one of my favorite stories.
When Donna was ten years old she was the first one in our family to fly in an airplane. She flew to Washington state to spend the year with our grandparents on their farm. She went to help them with their chores. I'm sure it was more beneficial to my sister as she received many valuable lessons from our grandparents. There were eggs to gather and lessons learned in the kitchen as well as the barn. There were also Bible lessons to learn.
I mention this story as it leads to the chicken story. In the spring of 1949 Mom, Dad, Betty and I decided to move out of our grandparents' home on Third and F in Coronado and head to the farm in Washington. This meant finding homes for several pets. We decided to take Susie Q, our pet hen, with us on the trip. I also had Mac, my turtle, along for the ride. Our car was loaded with all our worldly goods as well as our family and pets. We had things piled on top of the car and in the large trunk. Betty and I shared the back seat with Susie Q and Mac. Susie was in a suitable box and safe for the journey. She laid two eggs on the trip, and we always said one of them was while we were crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Maybe that was so.
You can picture us being quite the sight for sore eyes. Before heading north we stopped at our dentist's house as he and his wife were friends of ours. Mom and Dad had done a lot of painting for them. His wife said that her cousin's husband was a pastor in Washington. Can you imagine the surprise when we went to church that first Sunday we were in Washington and the cousin's husband was the pastor at the little church that my grandparents always attended. He had even baptized my sister during the time she had been with our grandparents. It is a small world.
Later that year, right after Christmas, we headed back to California. We left Susie Q on the farm, but my turtle came back to California with us. I have written about this eventful year several times so will not go into more detail about all that happened.
Fast forward to the sixties and we meet up with the pastor from my grandparents' church again. Paul and I were going with our children to First Baptist Church in Coronado. In 1966 we had a new pastor and his family at the church. You guessed right. It was the same pastor as I mentioned before. He had been at the Logan Heights church in San Diego for years and was happy for the opportunity to move to Coronado. To this day his wife Betty is one of my good friends. They were not in Coronado long, but lived in San Diego for many years. Four years ago they moved to Texas to be near family as they were getting on in years. Pastor Clark went to be with the Lord several years ago and it is good that Betty is near her family.
Yesterday Laura and I met Betty in Coronado along with another good friend from so many years ago. Betty is visiting friends in San Diego and then is headed to Washington to spend time with family. This was my second opportunity to see Betty since she moved to Texas. So Betty, Carolyn, Laura and I spent time together at the Ferry Landing in Coronado yesterday enjoying getting caught up on family news. We could have talked longer but everyone has a full calendar. These are precious moments in time. Oh, Betty is 90 years old now, or will be in December. She could pass for a much younger lady. Except for Laura I was the youngest of the bunch. I will be 75 in December. Just a kid, ha ha.
Since I mentioned the Ferry Landing I will mention the old ferries. Until the bridge opened in 1969 we had the large car ferries between Coronado and San Diego. They went from the foot of Orange Avenue to where Sea Port Village is now. We could go across in our cars or as pedestrians. It did not cost much and was a break from the trials of the day. Sometimes as pedestrians we would go back and forth without paying any extra. It was a time to feel the breeze from the bay and look for an occasional porpoise near the ferry. The San Diego skyline was different then too.
When Griff was a cub Scout we had an opportunity to go with his fellow scouts and their families on a whale watching trip out of the Coronado Yacht Club. This was the first time that I can remember going out in the ocean. We enjoyed whale sightings and a relaxing time on the water that morning. Since then we have gone on several whale watching day trips. Another fun trip is the Harbor Cruise around the bay. We have done that a number of times. We have taken friends and family over the years. We like the two hour cruise rather than the shorter cruise.
When I was in fifth grade my friend Georgette and I spent some time hanging around the yacht club and someone gave us a short jaunt on his sailboat. That really caught on with my friend as she continued to be enamored with boating over the years. I remember one summer I spent a very long day with her at the beach and got very sunburned. We all have to learn the hard way to be careful in the sun. Another time, with other friends when I was fifteen, I spent a day sailing in the bay to the cove which is now part of the State Beach. It was another long day in the sun and another bad sunburn.
My children had their bad sunburns too. The sunburns were so bad they maybe needed medical care. They became very cautious after that. Paul has always been cautious since he was a redhead with fair skin. Kathy is very fair too so has always had to be careful. The other three are the ones that got the bad burns that I mentioned. I remember my sister Donna getting a bad burn or two also.
One time when I was thirteen my friend Georgette and I were walking our dogs on the beach and they got tar or some kind of oil on their paws. It was impossible to get off them. We tried alcohol if I remember correctly. It really hurt their poor little paws. That is a not to do ever again experience.
When I was in sixth grade I spent a lot of time at the Coronado stables. Yes, Coronado had stables. They were near Forth Street, near the North Island gate. There are houses there now which are part of the Country Club Estates. There used to be a golf course on that side of town west of Alameda Blvd. As for me spending time at the stables, I never rode any horses there. I liked a boy that was there. I spent a lot of time with Penny that year too. I'm sure she went to the stables with me. This was not long before our family left for Washington in 1949.
That is also the year that I went on a first date to the Village Theater in Coronado. The Village would have just been two years old at that time. Nicky is the young man who took me to the movies that time. I even remember that we saw "The Three Musketeers". Nicky also spent time at the stables. He was not the one that I had my eye on at the stables though. I liked a boy named Paul. But he preferred that I would turn my attention to Nicky. It was all very proper sixth grade situations. Nothing improper occurred.
I always had another boyfriend as long as I can remember. Hotchy was a neighbor boy that I always knew. I really liked him and sometimes he liked me. One time he took me ice skating in San Diego. Even though I could roller skate I had no luck with the ice skates. I tried and tried to stand up and ice skate to no avail. Hotchy (Charles) lost patience with me and put me on the bus in San Diego with instructions of what to do to get home. I guess it only took one bus as that was no problem. But I misunderstood on when to put my coins in the fare box. I paid as I was getting off and the bus driver said that "It was about time that I paid." I did what I thought I was meant to do. That may have been the end of Hotchy for that year, but there were other years with times as his friend. Once I was in high school we never spent any time together. I often wonder where he is now.
We have a lot of childhood friends that we enjoyed time with for a period of time. Karen and Judy were good friends of my sisters and me. We spent much of our childhood playing with them, not always peacefully. Our imaginations were often in action when we got together. We planned plays or skits with them in their backyard. They lived next door to their grandparents and shared a large backyard with them. They had other relatives nearby too, much like us. We remember Karen and Judy having certain chores to do and their little house was very neat. Karen and Judy were both in the same graduating class as me. We graduated from Coronado High School in 1955. We did not really hang out together much after we were in high school though.
I enjoyed many friendships over the years and am always happy to see these friends again at reunions. One friend that I was close to in high school and for several years afterwards was Joan. I want to be in touch with her again. We have talked on the phone several times, but I never seem to follow through on getting together with her. I hope this will be the year. We are not getting any younger.
Madeline and I have remained good friends all these years. I am ever so thankful. We first met in third grade and we have each had a lot of friends over the years. Yet we have developed an even stronger sister bond as the years pass by. We are sisters in the Lord and that is one reason we have bonded. We are both silly together too. Wouldn't know we are elderly. That is for other people. Her mother could qualify, yet she is a young 94 year old. It is a blessing to have this mother in our lives.
My other mother Rosalie is also 94 years young and a blessing from the Lord. She was born in Coronado and has almost always lived in Coronado. Donna and I both adopted her as a mother. She was also a cupid for Paul and me. Rosalie's father was a Coronado ferry captain in years gone by. Such history our families share.
"More Coronado Memories" could go on and on, but this is time to close this post. There are always more things to write as they come to mind. I think of them faster than I can write. Sometimes they flit away before they reach the keys. See you the next time I sit here. Hugs :)
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Coronado Memories
When we travel through Coronado my family has to put up with me remembering too many details of days past. "See that house, Mom and Dad painted it," or "I baby sat in that house when I was in high school," are comments often heard from me. "I remember being in that house when I was real little. I think my parents knew someone who lived there." I know I can wear their ears out with all these facts. "Do you remember the store that used to be in that location?" is another oft spoken phrase.
Paul often recalls facts from his childhood too. We both grew up in Coronado so between the two of us there is a lot of Coronado history in our heads. Not really enough to write a book about, but our families would be an interesting chapter in a book on Coronado. Actually there is a section on some of the Marvins in one of the Coronado books. Paul's dad responded with some family pictures and facts when one book was being put together. But we could add the Jones and Mc Donaugh family too. I sent one favorite Jones family picture to a book about San Diego. This picture is included in that particular book.
Laura has information about places that my mother painted that I did not even know. Laura spent a lot of time helping her grandmother paint when she was quite young. She remembers Mom painting one mansion that has been in the news lately. I asked her if it was the interior or exterior and Laura remembered it being the exterior. Mom could climb a ladder to paint a two story house if she had to. Mom started painting with Dad back in the forties, soon after the war. She continued until long after Dad died in 1964. She had to earn a living and she was a good worker.
One time I was helping Mom paint inside a house a few blocks from where we lived on F Avenue. It was not long after my dad had died and the children were quite young. The children went nearby to one of Laura's friends to play. I was busy painting and just knew that the children were fine. Well, when Laura came back to where I was I asked her where her little brother was. She said that he would not follow her so she had left him outside the house where I was working. He was not anywhere to be found. Panic time! We rushed home looking for him on the way. Paul was home from work and heard my sob story. He calmly picked up the phone and called the police. When he asked them if they had a kid there the answer was yes.
Paul was able to go to the Coronado Police station and retrieve our little son. He had been found by a very concerned lady and taken to the police. He spent several hours there and seemed none the worse for wear. If it was today and that happened we would not have had such a simple happy ending. I'm sure that other agencies would get involved and we would have to prove that we were fit parents. Was I a fit parent? I think I was, but I could have been a lot better. There are a lot of things that I would improve on. But I do not believe I was negligent. I should have used more sense that day though.
It doesn't take much to dredge up a memory. Just going down that street where I was painting that day so many years ago will bring that story to mind. Just seeing something in the news such as the little girl found wandering in the street in Coronado in the middle of the night will trigger my memory of that day. I am oh so thankful that my story had a happy ending. I certainly hope that the little girl and her adoptive mommy have such a happy reunion. Now days the courts get involved which makes for a long drawn out story. And of course the media have to get involved. My name would have been mud.
Griff continued to have adventures as the years went by. He was an active little boy. Both of my sons could not understand why I was so adamant about them coming down off the two story roof when we lived on Olive Lane. I don't remember how old they were, but they may have been between six and nine years old. And that may have been when I got my first grey hair.
We lived close enough to the beach for the children to enjoy living in a beach community. Laura remembers jumping from rock to rock as she and her friend made their way along Ocean Boulevard. The tide pools in the rocks near Hotel Del Coronado were another place for an adventure for the children. There were walks or bike rides on the Strand as the children got older. That was before there was a good bike path on Silver Strand.
When our oldest daughter was five years old she had an adventure with her little friend. This would have been very unusual as she was always nearby where she belonged. Kathy and her friend walked the whole two blocks to the bay and were found by a nice policeman who brought them home.
Even when the children were barely in kindergarten they were able to walk to school and back home alone once they were shown the way. Now days I would not choose to have children do this, but we lived in a different day and age. I know that some mothers were cautious and continued to walk with their children for several years. One good friend of Laura's always rode on the back of her mother's bike well into grade school. I know a lot of parents are very cautious now days and I understand why.
When the children were quite young they learned the way to their grandparents' homes. I especially remember the first time we decided that Laura was able to walk by herself to Paul's parents' house on the other side of town. Paul's mother and I had it well planned with phone calls and instructions. Laura must have been around half way there when she needed help from a nice lady. More phone calls and arrangements. Laura eventually arrived at her grandmother's house fine and dandy. My kids loved their grandparents, Paul's parents and mine.
My first adventure was told to me as I grew up. When I was a toddler using a walker we lived one half block from my Coronado grandparents. Well my parents must have turned their backs on me and I headed up the hill and across the street to my grandparents' house. Now days this is busy third street, but in those days there was no traffic, thankfully. Families have had stories to share through the centuries and we add our stories to share with the next generations.
Some stories are too sensitive to remember and to share, but they also help to make us what we are. God knows these stories as He knows all about us and He cares for us as a mother hen cares for her chicks under her wings. We can go to the shelter of the Lord's wings. Under His wings I will abide. Safely abide forever.
Paul often recalls facts from his childhood too. We both grew up in Coronado so between the two of us there is a lot of Coronado history in our heads. Not really enough to write a book about, but our families would be an interesting chapter in a book on Coronado. Actually there is a section on some of the Marvins in one of the Coronado books. Paul's dad responded with some family pictures and facts when one book was being put together. But we could add the Jones and Mc Donaugh family too. I sent one favorite Jones family picture to a book about San Diego. This picture is included in that particular book.
Laura has information about places that my mother painted that I did not even know. Laura spent a lot of time helping her grandmother paint when she was quite young. She remembers Mom painting one mansion that has been in the news lately. I asked her if it was the interior or exterior and Laura remembered it being the exterior. Mom could climb a ladder to paint a two story house if she had to. Mom started painting with Dad back in the forties, soon after the war. She continued until long after Dad died in 1964. She had to earn a living and she was a good worker.
One time I was helping Mom paint inside a house a few blocks from where we lived on F Avenue. It was not long after my dad had died and the children were quite young. The children went nearby to one of Laura's friends to play. I was busy painting and just knew that the children were fine. Well, when Laura came back to where I was I asked her where her little brother was. She said that he would not follow her so she had left him outside the house where I was working. He was not anywhere to be found. Panic time! We rushed home looking for him on the way. Paul was home from work and heard my sob story. He calmly picked up the phone and called the police. When he asked them if they had a kid there the answer was yes.
Paul was able to go to the Coronado Police station and retrieve our little son. He had been found by a very concerned lady and taken to the police. He spent several hours there and seemed none the worse for wear. If it was today and that happened we would not have had such a simple happy ending. I'm sure that other agencies would get involved and we would have to prove that we were fit parents. Was I a fit parent? I think I was, but I could have been a lot better. There are a lot of things that I would improve on. But I do not believe I was negligent. I should have used more sense that day though.
It doesn't take much to dredge up a memory. Just going down that street where I was painting that day so many years ago will bring that story to mind. Just seeing something in the news such as the little girl found wandering in the street in Coronado in the middle of the night will trigger my memory of that day. I am oh so thankful that my story had a happy ending. I certainly hope that the little girl and her adoptive mommy have such a happy reunion. Now days the courts get involved which makes for a long drawn out story. And of course the media have to get involved. My name would have been mud.
Griff continued to have adventures as the years went by. He was an active little boy. Both of my sons could not understand why I was so adamant about them coming down off the two story roof when we lived on Olive Lane. I don't remember how old they were, but they may have been between six and nine years old. And that may have been when I got my first grey hair.
We lived close enough to the beach for the children to enjoy living in a beach community. Laura remembers jumping from rock to rock as she and her friend made their way along Ocean Boulevard. The tide pools in the rocks near Hotel Del Coronado were another place for an adventure for the children. There were walks or bike rides on the Strand as the children got older. That was before there was a good bike path on Silver Strand.
When our oldest daughter was five years old she had an adventure with her little friend. This would have been very unusual as she was always nearby where she belonged. Kathy and her friend walked the whole two blocks to the bay and were found by a nice policeman who brought them home.
Even when the children were barely in kindergarten they were able to walk to school and back home alone once they were shown the way. Now days I would not choose to have children do this, but we lived in a different day and age. I know that some mothers were cautious and continued to walk with their children for several years. One good friend of Laura's always rode on the back of her mother's bike well into grade school. I know a lot of parents are very cautious now days and I understand why.
When the children were quite young they learned the way to their grandparents' homes. I especially remember the first time we decided that Laura was able to walk by herself to Paul's parents' house on the other side of town. Paul's mother and I had it well planned with phone calls and instructions. Laura must have been around half way there when she needed help from a nice lady. More phone calls and arrangements. Laura eventually arrived at her grandmother's house fine and dandy. My kids loved their grandparents, Paul's parents and mine.
My first adventure was told to me as I grew up. When I was a toddler using a walker we lived one half block from my Coronado grandparents. Well my parents must have turned their backs on me and I headed up the hill and across the street to my grandparents' house. Now days this is busy third street, but in those days there was no traffic, thankfully. Families have had stories to share through the centuries and we add our stories to share with the next generations.
Some stories are too sensitive to remember and to share, but they also help to make us what we are. God knows these stories as He knows all about us and He cares for us as a mother hen cares for her chicks under her wings. We can go to the shelter of the Lord's wings. Under His wings I will abide. Safely abide forever.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
A Full House
With Kathy, Laura, Bill, Elizabeth, Paul and me plus five dogs and a number of cats we needed every inch of space in our house. It was a good thing we added a room in 1979. We managed to make room for other pets as the years flew by.
One little kitten needed a home when some children found her and brought her to us. When I took her in I said she was just temporary until we found another home for her. Well, her name became Temporary and we had her for fifteen years. She was a sweet little black and white cat. Although she sometimes had a temper so she was sometimes called Temper.Another found kitten became Elizabeth's kitty. Raven was a pretty black cat. One time she disappeared for a while and came home with a broken hip. We took her to the vet but they didn't need to operate on her. She ended up with her signature limp for the rest of her life. When Elizabeth moved back to her home in Billings, Montana in 1985 Raven went too, as did Mouse, her dog.
On one of our birding trips to Buena Vista Lagoon in the Oceanside area we noticed someone leaving a chicken there to join all the ducks and geese. We decided to catch the young chicken and bring it home. It would not have fared well with all the wild birds. Other people have left pet ducks there and they really shouldn't do that. We got home with our new pet chicken and decided to name it Katy. It was not long before we changed it to Carl as it was a rooster. He grew quite large and would crow in the morning if we left him outside at night.
Paul worked nights so had a routine of catching Carl when he got home at night. Paul would put Carl in a box in the garage so he could not wake up the whole neighborhood in the morning. This routine worked out quite nicely. Carl got taller than our dogs and picked on them. After enough of this our dogs got even. I felt bad when I discovered that one of the dogs had snapped back one time too many. Carl was dead. I could not eat this pet. None of us could.
In 1983 Griff was in Okinawa and life was continuing to change in our family. When Griff left for Okinawa Kathy was single and did not even have a boy friend. By the time he returned home Kathy was married and expecting her first baby. The big wedding was in September of 1983. It was a special time for our family. We had four generations in attendance. John Golden was the lucky guy. We knew John for some time as we knew his first wife and her family for years.
So while Elizabeth was with us in San Diego we had a lot going on. We needed her willing hands in preparing for the wedding. Her brother Matthew was here for the wedding and was also a great help. We had friends that also added their special touch to the wedding reception. This was when we were going to Midway Baptist Church so Pastor Baize was the one who married Kathy and John.
Elizabeth was still here when Rebecca Jean Golden was born in 1984. By then Griff was back and had surprised us with his good news. Soon after he was home he shared with us that he was engaged to be married. He brought Josie here from the Philippines that summer. They went to Las Vegas to get married and Bill went with them. It was dedication on Bill's part because he rode in the back of Griff's truck through the hot desert. We couldn't go as our car needed work done on it. I hated to miss out.
At a later date we had a party for them at Kathy and John's house. I loved my new daughter and we developed a close relationship with each other over the years. I'm sad to say that after about sixteen years of marriage they got divorced. This was even sadder for them. I still consider Josie to be a daughter. She still calls me Mom.
With Elizabeth and her cat and dog gone we had less bodies in the house and we missed them. But we had our new little family nearby to visit. I got to baby sit for my new little granddaughter too. That was fun. We also had our son and his bride in the Oceanside area to visit. They were all here for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Actually Elizabeth was still here on Becky's first Thanksgiving and Christmas. By the time Becky had her second Thanksgiving the Goldens were in Washington state. Boy did we miss our little Becky and her parents when they moved away.
There were trips to see the Goldens in Colorado to look forward to. There were trips with Bill to enjoy as he likes to travel and go birding with his dad. Each trip has an adventure to share as I put photo albums together. It is a blessing to see our children leave the nest and then continue to share their lives with us. We have more memories to make as time goes by.
first picture- Elizabeth Hamilton and her dog Mouse,
second picture-our kitty Temporary,
next picture- large family portrait with Mom and family,
then the wedding of Kathy and John Golden with four generations-
this picture included most of the family at the wedding.
fifth picture-my sister Betty with her daughter Elizabeth
& my daughter Laura.
last picture-Michael, Becky and Melissa Golden.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Sharing Our Hearts and Hugs
When I was growing up I don't remember sharing hugs with many people. I'm sure that we would have shared hugs as young children, but I don't remember many hugs. I would have enjoyed this form of affection. We had a lot of interaction as a family in other ways, but the hugs and kisses were missing. I sort of remember Mom interacting in an affectionate way with my youngest sister when we were little. That indicates to me that she probably did the same with my other sister and me when we were younger.
I remember seeing some of my friends giving their parents hugs to say hello or goodbye and thought that was so nice. As a parent it is so natural to hug my children. I guess the busyness of my parents' lives got in the way of hugs and kisses. I don't think they intentionally avoided this ritual. I don't remember much in the way of hugs with grandparents either, but there was always a warm connection otherwise.
The problem is when we start to think any meaningful touching is meant as a girl-boy relationship. I always wanted hugs. I also liked boys so would have loved hugs and even kisses from a special someone. I wonder if I would have been so longing for this if I had the normal hugs from my family. Just a thought.
Paul's mother was totally against parents kissing their children or grandchildren. I don't remember if she was this way about hugs. Yet she was a wonderful grandmother in every way imaginable. She gave so much of herself. She did not like seeing any adults giving their germs to children by kissing them. It was a confusing message for me as an impressionable young mother. I grew up without kissing, yet I really wanted to be affectionate with my children.
Paul's father was quite affectionate as he became a grandfather. This was not how he was when Paul and his brother were little though. He was also affectionate with me as the daughter he never had. Paul followed in his dad's footsteps in that he did not show our children affection. That is what he learned as a child. This goes through the generations. We can change though.
When we were young I don't remember the friendly hugs that people enjoy sharing now days. At church it was a rare occasion for anything more than a handshake. I remember being at a small church in Mexico one time in 1960 where we were greeted with hugs. That is a warm memory. But hugs as a regular Sunday morning greeting was almost unheard of at the churches I regularly attended. Before 1961 we were in the Methodist Church. In 1961 we joined the Baptist Church. We did not usually share hugs at church. It was much later that many brothers and sisters in Christ began being so comfortable with hugging. Of course there were occasional hugs.
We have one special friend that is known for her hugs. We have known Rosalie since we were teenagers and she has always shared hugs with us. She thought Paul did not really like hugs. I think he did, but had to get used to them. I had to get used to hugs, and I now consider myself to be a hugger too.
I enjoy the warm greetings we share in our churches today. Now days family and friends seem to be comfortable with friendly hugs. Maybe I have just gotten over the idea that hugs are for boy-girl relationships. I think Paul may be getting past that too, realizing that hugs are another way to greet brothers and sisters.
I remember that when I was a teenager one of my friends was surprised that the boy she was with just shook his father's hand instead of hugging him. I would not have thought of that as I don't remember ever seeing a father and son in a warm embrace when I was young. As daughters my sisters and I didn't even hug our parents. That all seems so sad to me now. We all need hugs and kisses and what better place to get them than from our parents?
I eventually got comfortable hugging my mother when she was older. Her second husband used to get upset with me because I did not show Mom affection. My attitude was that is how I was raised so that is how I was. Thankfully I changed over a period of time. Maybe around the time that we started showing more love to each other at church. Not to say we did not love each other, we just needed to be more tender to each other in our families and also our church family. I wish I had overcome that attitude earlier when I still had my Daddy here with me to be able to give him a big hug. I still called him Daddy till the day he died. It was a long time before I stopped calling my mother Mommy. That was our way of showing affection, I guess.
When giving hugs I respect the fact that some people are not comfortable with such greetings. If they prefer a handshake that is also a warm greeting. Just make it gently firm. I do not want to break their hand, but I want to show I care.
I share my heart each day with those I love. I share a smile with those I meet along the way, another way of sharing Jesus' love with others. And when I write a note I put a heart at the bottom of the page to say "you are loved." Otherwise I put my :) on many pages that I write.
I remember seeing some of my friends giving their parents hugs to say hello or goodbye and thought that was so nice. As a parent it is so natural to hug my children. I guess the busyness of my parents' lives got in the way of hugs and kisses. I don't think they intentionally avoided this ritual. I don't remember much in the way of hugs with grandparents either, but there was always a warm connection otherwise.
The problem is when we start to think any meaningful touching is meant as a girl-boy relationship. I always wanted hugs. I also liked boys so would have loved hugs and even kisses from a special someone. I wonder if I would have been so longing for this if I had the normal hugs from my family. Just a thought.
When we were young I don't remember the friendly hugs that people enjoy sharing now days. At church it was a rare occasion for anything more than a handshake. I remember being at a small church in Mexico one time in 1960 where we were greeted with hugs. That is a warm memory. But hugs as a regular Sunday morning greeting was almost unheard of at the churches I regularly attended. Before 1961 we were in the Methodist Church. In 1961 we joined the Baptist Church. We did not usually share hugs at church. It was much later that many brothers and sisters in Christ began being so comfortable with hugging. Of course there were occasional hugs.
We have one special friend that is known for her hugs. We have known Rosalie since we were teenagers and she has always shared hugs with us. She thought Paul did not really like hugs. I think he did, but had to get used to them. I had to get used to hugs, and I now consider myself to be a hugger too.
I enjoy the warm greetings we share in our churches today. Now days family and friends seem to be comfortable with friendly hugs. Maybe I have just gotten over the idea that hugs are for boy-girl relationships. I think Paul may be getting past that too, realizing that hugs are another way to greet brothers and sisters.
I remember that when I was a teenager one of my friends was surprised that the boy she was with just shook his father's hand instead of hugging him. I would not have thought of that as I don't remember ever seeing a father and son in a warm embrace when I was young. As daughters my sisters and I didn't even hug our parents. That all seems so sad to me now. We all need hugs and kisses and what better place to get them than from our parents?
I eventually got comfortable hugging my mother when she was older. Her second husband used to get upset with me because I did not show Mom affection. My attitude was that is how I was raised so that is how I was. Thankfully I changed over a period of time. Maybe around the time that we started showing more love to each other at church. Not to say we did not love each other, we just needed to be more tender to each other in our families and also our church family. I wish I had overcome that attitude earlier when I still had my Daddy here with me to be able to give him a big hug. I still called him Daddy till the day he died. It was a long time before I stopped calling my mother Mommy. That was our way of showing affection, I guess.
When giving hugs I respect the fact that some people are not comfortable with such greetings. If they prefer a handshake that is also a warm greeting. Just make it gently firm. I do not want to break their hand, but I want to show I care.
I share my heart each day with those I love. I share a smile with those I meet along the way, another way of sharing Jesus' love with others. And when I write a note I put a heart at the bottom of the page to say "you are loved." Otherwise I put my :) on many pages that I write.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
I'm Not the Only Caroline Marvin
When I was a child I never knew anyone with the name Caroline. It is an old fashioned name that was not being used a lot at the time. I knew a number of girls with the name Carolyn and Carol, but nobody with my name. Of course many people ended up calling me Carolyn thinking that was my name. I did not usually bother to correct them. One of my friends is Carolyn and she makes sure that people have it right when our names get switched.
When I was in high school I finally met a girl named Caroline. She was younger than me, but I had opportunity to meet her. So it was fun when we greeted each other to say "hi Caroline" to each other. I know that would not be a big deal with many common names. There are a lot of Kathys and Lauras so they would not think twice about hearing their names unless it was specifically for them.
In more recent years I hear the name Caroline used a lot more. It seems that ever since Caroline Kennedy was a little girl in the White House people have liked the name. Grace Kelly also named her first child Caroline. I meet other girls named Caroline now days.
Recently someone else with the name Caroline Marvin found one of my blog posts. So I'm not the only person with this combination of names. My name happened to be in the San Diego Union-Tribune several weeks ago. A friend of the other Caroline saw my name and let her know that she saw the name Caroline Marvin in the paper. So Caroline wrote a note on one of my blog posts. I tried to respond but had no success. I often need help from my daughter in using the computer.
Caroline Marvin who lives in Boston, if you see this I'm not ignoring your note. I'm just amazed that you found my blog and wrote to me. I hope to hear from you again. Oh, in answering your question, Marvin is my married name. I'm 74 years old and have been married 56 years. It will be 57 years in August.
We are not the only ones that have had the name Caroline Marvin. My brother-in-law saw on obituary for a Caroline Marvin in the Salinas, California newspaper sometime ago. He was not surprised that there are Marvins in Boston as the family was originally in the east. All I knew is that some had been in Ohio and then Michigan. My father-in-law was born in Minnesota but came southwest as a child. I know there is another Marvin family in our area, but we are not related.
Until now I would never have thought there would be another person with my name. But I should not be surprised as there are a lot of duplicate names. We found that out when looking for someone on Facebook. If it wasn't for my daughter I would not be on Facebook or writing on the computer. Thank God for daughters.
We may share a name with someone else but we are each unique. God knows each one of us. He knows the number of hairs on our heads. He knows what is in our hearts. He knows our thoughts and answers our prayers. He loves us and desires for each one of us to love him too. He even knew us before we were born.
See Psalm 139
When I was in high school I finally met a girl named Caroline. She was younger than me, but I had opportunity to meet her. So it was fun when we greeted each other to say "hi Caroline" to each other. I know that would not be a big deal with many common names. There are a lot of Kathys and Lauras so they would not think twice about hearing their names unless it was specifically for them.
In more recent years I hear the name Caroline used a lot more. It seems that ever since Caroline Kennedy was a little girl in the White House people have liked the name. Grace Kelly also named her first child Caroline. I meet other girls named Caroline now days.
Recently someone else with the name Caroline Marvin found one of my blog posts. So I'm not the only person with this combination of names. My name happened to be in the San Diego Union-Tribune several weeks ago. A friend of the other Caroline saw my name and let her know that she saw the name Caroline Marvin in the paper. So Caroline wrote a note on one of my blog posts. I tried to respond but had no success. I often need help from my daughter in using the computer.
Caroline Marvin who lives in Boston, if you see this I'm not ignoring your note. I'm just amazed that you found my blog and wrote to me. I hope to hear from you again. Oh, in answering your question, Marvin is my married name. I'm 74 years old and have been married 56 years. It will be 57 years in August.
We are not the only ones that have had the name Caroline Marvin. My brother-in-law saw on obituary for a Caroline Marvin in the Salinas, California newspaper sometime ago. He was not surprised that there are Marvins in Boston as the family was originally in the east. All I knew is that some had been in Ohio and then Michigan. My father-in-law was born in Minnesota but came southwest as a child. I know there is another Marvin family in our area, but we are not related.
Until now I would never have thought there would be another person with my name. But I should not be surprised as there are a lot of duplicate names. We found that out when looking for someone on Facebook. If it wasn't for my daughter I would not be on Facebook or writing on the computer. Thank God for daughters.
We may share a name with someone else but we are each unique. God knows each one of us. He knows the number of hairs on our heads. He knows what is in our hearts. He knows our thoughts and answers our prayers. He loves us and desires for each one of us to love him too. He even knew us before we were born.
See Psalm 139
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Reaching Back
The story is that when Gene asked Ida to marry him that she just giggled. He did not know that she meant yes until she started telling friends that they were getting married. I don't remember if they ever told me how they met. I assume it was because they both worked in jobs that would have brought them together. He was a chauffeur and she was a maid. They were always hard workers.
They had a simple wedding in the parsonage of the Methodist Church. I don't even know who stood up with them as witnesses. The date was August 15, 1935. Fifteen and a half months later I was born. I was named Caroline after the lady my dad worked for. My middle name is Jean in recognition of Dad's name, Gene. He was given the name Rudolf Eugene McDonaugh, but he always went by Gene. Mom's maiden name was Ida Frances Davenport. Her family called her Ida Frances but most people called her Ida.
They met and got married in Coronado, California, but they were in Bellingham, Washington when I was born. I'm sure it was a good idea that she was with her family when she had her first baby. It was not an easy delivery for her to go through. They were so unhappy with the doctor that I was not paid for. They probably did not have the money. I don't know how long we were with our Washington family before we came to Coronado to be near Dad's friends and family. I know we were in Coronado when my sisters were born in 1938 and 1940.
Most of our childhood was in Coronado and we consider that to be our hometown. We did spend a few years with our grandparents on the farm in Washington during World War II. Mom and Dad worked in Portland, Oregon much of that time while Donna, Betty and I had a "little house on the prairie" life with our grandparents. Mom and Dad always did what they could to earn a living so they worked in the shipyard during the war. Dad was not healthy enough to be drafted into the Army so we did not have any long goodbyes. I remember visiting my parents in Portland at least once. Of course they visited us on the farm when possible.
Before I was born my parents made friends with a gentleman we always called Rogers. That was really his last name. His wife was Fidelia. As I grew up I remember Rogers mentioning seeing me as a baby. I think he had worked for Caroline Keck, the same lady that my dad chauffeured for. I also remember Rogers talking about the White House and some of the people he had met there, including Presidents. I wish I remembered his stories. It did not register to me as a young person that these were very important stories that I should remember.
When Paul and I got married on Mom and Dad's nineteenth wedding anniversary at the Methodist Church, we had about one hundred guests and we have a record of this in our guest book. The first names that were signed in my book are Mr. and Mrs. Emmett Rogers and Mrs. Lillian R. Parks. Lillian was the sister of our friends Fidelia and Rogers.
In later years Lillian wrote the book "My Thirty Years Backstairs at the White House." When the book was first published, and then became the basis for a TV miniseries in 1979, I had not realized that it was documenting stories that I should have remembered from childhood. Our friend and his family had a real history in the White House. Our friend's mother, Maggie Rogers, had been part of the White House staff since the Taft administration. I'll put a link to one of the obituaries about Mrs. Parks from November of 1997. She was 100 years old when she died. Read more about Lillian Rogers Parks at the Houston Chronicles Archives.
The only time I remember seeing Mrs. Parks is at our wedding and then again at our friend Rogers' funeral.
They had a simple wedding in the parsonage of the Methodist Church. I don't even know who stood up with them as witnesses. The date was August 15, 1935. Fifteen and a half months later I was born. I was named Caroline after the lady my dad worked for. My middle name is Jean in recognition of Dad's name, Gene. He was given the name Rudolf Eugene McDonaugh, but he always went by Gene. Mom's maiden name was Ida Frances Davenport. Her family called her Ida Frances but most people called her Ida.
They met and got married in Coronado, California, but they were in Bellingham, Washington when I was born. I'm sure it was a good idea that she was with her family when she had her first baby. It was not an easy delivery for her to go through. They were so unhappy with the doctor that I was not paid for. They probably did not have the money. I don't know how long we were with our Washington family before we came to Coronado to be near Dad's friends and family. I know we were in Coronado when my sisters were born in 1938 and 1940.
Most of our childhood was in Coronado and we consider that to be our hometown. We did spend a few years with our grandparents on the farm in Washington during World War II. Mom and Dad worked in Portland, Oregon much of that time while Donna, Betty and I had a "little house on the prairie" life with our grandparents. Mom and Dad always did what they could to earn a living so they worked in the shipyard during the war. Dad was not healthy enough to be drafted into the Army so we did not have any long goodbyes. I remember visiting my parents in Portland at least once. Of course they visited us on the farm when possible.
Before I was born my parents made friends with a gentleman we always called Rogers. That was really his last name. His wife was Fidelia. As I grew up I remember Rogers mentioning seeing me as a baby. I think he had worked for Caroline Keck, the same lady that my dad chauffeured for. I also remember Rogers talking about the White House and some of the people he had met there, including Presidents. I wish I remembered his stories. It did not register to me as a young person that these were very important stories that I should remember.
When Paul and I got married on Mom and Dad's nineteenth wedding anniversary at the Methodist Church, we had about one hundred guests and we have a record of this in our guest book. The first names that were signed in my book are Mr. and Mrs. Emmett Rogers and Mrs. Lillian R. Parks. Lillian was the sister of our friends Fidelia and Rogers.
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| Lillian Rogers Parks with FDR's 1942 Holy Bible |
The only time I remember seeing Mrs. Parks is at our wedding and then again at our friend Rogers' funeral.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
July 4th Celebrations
On July 4th in 1961 my sister Betty was anticipating the birth of her second baby. Coronado was celebrating the birthday of our country as it does each year with a parade and other festivities. Doctor Turpin* was called away from the parade to deliver Betty and Sam's baby girl at the Coronado Hospital. This was a wonderful way to celebrate 4th of July and we will always remember the birthday of my niece Elizabeth Frances Hamilton.My sister Betty was also born in Coronado, in the little hospital that used to be on the eleven hundred block of Orange Avenue in the thirties and forties. I wrote more about this in an earlier blog post, "First Memories," which I wrote in June. My sister Donna was born in the same hospital as Betty was. My daughter Kathy had been born in the same Coronado Hospital as her cousin Elizabeth.
My sister's maiden name was Betty Frances McDonaugh. Baby Elizabeth was given her mother's middle name Frances as her middle name. This had been a family name for several generations. My mother was Ida Frances which came from both of her grandmothers. The name Elizabeth came from our grandmother Pearl Elizabeth Davenport. Elizabeth became known as Sissy as she was Gary's little sister. We called her Sissy for years. Some in her family called her Liz. I think some still do. I prefer to call her Elizabeth.
This is the year that Elizabeth turns fifty. It is hard to believe that it was so many years ago on that July 4th in Coronado that we celebrated the birth of Betty and Sam's only daughter. Elizabeth had big brother Gary and then she became a big sister to Matthew and Mark. Elizabeth has two sons, Andrew and Elijah. She is married to Jack Davis and is a step mother to his adult children. This year Elizabeth became a grandmother when Andrew and Natasha became parents. Actually Elizabeth considers Jack's grandchildren to be her grandchildren too, so she is blessed with a number of little ones to love.Coronado continues to celebrate the birthday of the good old U.S.A. in a grand way. There is always a parade and we often go to see it. We often run into old friends as we enjoy the festivities. Last year I went to the parade with daughter Kathy and her husband John as well as my sister Donna and her husband Fred. It was a fun family day. I also went to my high school 55th reunion with Madeline. Donna went with us as a guest. She is CHS class of 1956. Madeline and I are from Coronado High class of 1955. This year Laura and I plan to go to the parade and then go to a barbecue at First Baptist in Coronado. There is always fireworks to go see but we will be back home enjoying the fireworks on TV that evening.
We celebrate being in such a great country where we still enjoy freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from fear and freedom from want. Norman Rockwell painted some favorite pictures that illustrate these freedoms. I have a book that has copies of some of our favorite Norman Rockwell scenes and these four are among them. Some of my friends and I went to the art museum in Balboa Park in the year 2000 to see the Norman Rockwell exhibit and these pictures were included. I consider his paintings to be my favorites. I grew up seeing his illustrations on the cover of The Saturday Evening Post and other magazines. He also painted portraits of some of our presidents.
Celebrate our United States of America. Celebrate our land of the free and home of the brave. Celebrate families and birthdays. Rejoice and be glad.
*Dr. Turpin was the founder of Project Concern in the sixties.
Image credit: riptheskulll
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