Happy New Year my dear friends! It has been two years since we started this blog and your continued support has given me a lot of encouragement to keep writing. It has certainly been up and down this last year and I would like to have a more positive blog for you to read during this year.
Right now, I would like to reminisce about the culture of the 1940's, 1950's, and 1960's, when I was a little girl and the world was a much different place to be.
1944 was the start of my memories. My first memories were about God. I was aware of loving Him and from when I was about 9 months old my memories were of a dialogue with Heavenly Father that soothed me and gave me the strength to hope for the best in my future.
I was living in an orphanage in downtown San Diego, just off of Market Street. My mother was going through hell because she had been thrown out of her family's house when she became pregnant with me. She was a married woman whose husband was stationed on Hawaii during World War II. He had been overseas for about two years when my mother was raped by a man that she had met at an USO dance. I was the result. Her parents disowned her and sent her to San Diego-from the State of Washington-to have me and then get rid of me. Poor mother was in so much emotional pain. She had to face having her child in a city that she knew nothing about, she was missing her husband desperately, and she had very little income to buy baby supplies or create a home for us. But she loved me and could not give me up for adoption. She kept me in her rented room for six weeks, but she had so little income that she could not afford to keep me there any longer. She had been going to the Brethren Church which was located at the beginning of El Cajon Blvd and she met there a woman who ran an orphanage not far from where mom lived. A few days later found my mother carrying me and all of my belongings to that orphanage. I did not like that place. In those days people raised children much differently than today and the rules of the orphanage disallowed holding a baby for any reason but to give her a bath or put her on a pot in a playpen as soon as she could sit up alone and force potty training upon her. I have a picture of myself sitting on that pot at four months old. You were not held to be fed a bottle, but were placed in our cribs and the bottle propped up by a stuffed duck with a strap on it that held the bottle for us.
Mother would come every day after her work and she held me and played with me. Then, when I was about 10 months old, she heard from her husband and he invited her to move to Hawaii with him. The government had lifted the ban on dependents being on the islands and he wanted her to move to be with him. This caused very mixed feelings for mom. She desperately wanted to join her husband, but she had never told him about me, nor did she intend to. Yet, she loved me and did not want to give me up. Finally she went to the Church and asked the members if they knew anyone who might like to adopt a baby. Ralph and Lucile Pearson were members of the church who were stationed in Iowa. Ralph was a mess sergeant at a prisoner of war camp in Clarinda, Iowa and Lucile was a nurse in the hospital at the camp. They had been praying for a baby girl and when the Church members wrote to them about me, they immediately answered "yes". They got on a Greyhound bus and came to San Diego. When they arrived at the orphanage I was 11 months old and all of us babies were dressed up and sitting in little chairs around the room. Ralph came into the room and looked around at all of us. Then he pointed straight at me and said, "Spizarenctum (Ralph's nickname for Lucile, it was a patent medicine that was touted for being able to cure all that ails you, and Ralph said that Lucile cured all that ailed him), that's the one for us!" And so my new parents chose me, went to court and adopted me, and then we all returned to Iowa on another Greyhound bus.
My mother came to say good-bye to me and meet my new parents. Then she left again and when she left I was inconsolable. It took mom and dad several days of patience and love to distract me, and then we were off to Iowa. I never forgot my mother and cry for her even today.
Mom (Lucile) loved me very much and treated me very well. She introduced me to Classical music and the opera. Dad was so proud of me and when he got off of work he would put me in a stroller and walk the blocks with me. I had not spoken much up to that point but dad would introduce me to the people he met as his daughter, Davalene. I was not at all used to that given name as my birth name was Ruby Lee. One day as we were out for our walk, I spoke up loud and said, "My name is not Davalene, my name is Dee Dee." Do not know where I picked up Dee Dee from, but dad stopped the stroller and asked me what I had said. I repeated it, and he said that he was sorry and from that point on he would call me Dee Dee. It became my nickname from that day on.
Tomorrow we remember the end of war in Europe and later in Japan and how all of that affected our lives. We also will talk about the world of prejudice that remained virulent in our country...even up to today.
Have a lovely day and I will see you again tomorrow.
Right now, I would like to reminisce about the culture of the 1940's, 1950's, and 1960's, when I was a little girl and the world was a much different place to be.
1944 was the start of my memories. My first memories were about God. I was aware of loving Him and from when I was about 9 months old my memories were of a dialogue with Heavenly Father that soothed me and gave me the strength to hope for the best in my future.
I was living in an orphanage in downtown San Diego, just off of Market Street. My mother was going through hell because she had been thrown out of her family's house when she became pregnant with me. She was a married woman whose husband was stationed on Hawaii during World War II. He had been overseas for about two years when my mother was raped by a man that she had met at an USO dance. I was the result. Her parents disowned her and sent her to San Diego-from the State of Washington-to have me and then get rid of me. Poor mother was in so much emotional pain. She had to face having her child in a city that she knew nothing about, she was missing her husband desperately, and she had very little income to buy baby supplies or create a home for us. But she loved me and could not give me up for adoption. She kept me in her rented room for six weeks, but she had so little income that she could not afford to keep me there any longer. She had been going to the Brethren Church which was located at the beginning of El Cajon Blvd and she met there a woman who ran an orphanage not far from where mom lived. A few days later found my mother carrying me and all of my belongings to that orphanage. I did not like that place. In those days people raised children much differently than today and the rules of the orphanage disallowed holding a baby for any reason but to give her a bath or put her on a pot in a playpen as soon as she could sit up alone and force potty training upon her. I have a picture of myself sitting on that pot at four months old. You were not held to be fed a bottle, but were placed in our cribs and the bottle propped up by a stuffed duck with a strap on it that held the bottle for us.
Mother would come every day after her work and she held me and played with me. Then, when I was about 10 months old, she heard from her husband and he invited her to move to Hawaii with him. The government had lifted the ban on dependents being on the islands and he wanted her to move to be with him. This caused very mixed feelings for mom. She desperately wanted to join her husband, but she had never told him about me, nor did she intend to. Yet, she loved me and did not want to give me up. Finally she went to the Church and asked the members if they knew anyone who might like to adopt a baby. Ralph and Lucile Pearson were members of the church who were stationed in Iowa. Ralph was a mess sergeant at a prisoner of war camp in Clarinda, Iowa and Lucile was a nurse in the hospital at the camp. They had been praying for a baby girl and when the Church members wrote to them about me, they immediately answered "yes". They got on a Greyhound bus and came to San Diego. When they arrived at the orphanage I was 11 months old and all of us babies were dressed up and sitting in little chairs around the room. Ralph came into the room and looked around at all of us. Then he pointed straight at me and said, "Spizarenctum (Ralph's nickname for Lucile, it was a patent medicine that was touted for being able to cure all that ails you, and Ralph said that Lucile cured all that ailed him), that's the one for us!" And so my new parents chose me, went to court and adopted me, and then we all returned to Iowa on another Greyhound bus.
My mother came to say good-bye to me and meet my new parents. Then she left again and when she left I was inconsolable. It took mom and dad several days of patience and love to distract me, and then we were off to Iowa. I never forgot my mother and cry for her even today.
Mom (Lucile) loved me very much and treated me very well. She introduced me to Classical music and the opera. Dad was so proud of me and when he got off of work he would put me in a stroller and walk the blocks with me. I had not spoken much up to that point but dad would introduce me to the people he met as his daughter, Davalene. I was not at all used to that given name as my birth name was Ruby Lee. One day as we were out for our walk, I spoke up loud and said, "My name is not Davalene, my name is Dee Dee." Do not know where I picked up Dee Dee from, but dad stopped the stroller and asked me what I had said. I repeated it, and he said that he was sorry and from that point on he would call me Dee Dee. It became my nickname from that day on.
Tomorrow we remember the end of war in Europe and later in Japan and how all of that affected our lives. We also will talk about the world of prejudice that remained virulent in our country...even up to today.
Have a lovely day and I will see you again tomorrow.
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