My grandparents on my mother’s side emigrated from Krakow, Poland in the early 1900’s. During that time, Canada was offering land to foreigners for free if they would move there to homestead. The land they acquired was in the Province of Saskatchewan. I don’t know how much land, but I think it was about five or ten acres. They had three children that they brought with them from Poland and would end up having a total of thirteen children. Their last name was Yaworski. I don’t know my grandparents’ first names.
My mother’s sister Katherine (Kay) was the oldest child and she was born in Krakow. My mother’s name was Frances (Frankie) and she never knew when she was born. Her mother gave birth to all of her children at home. When they had a chance to travel to the nearest town they would file papers to record the birth. The date the papers were filed became their official “birthday”. Frankie’s birthday was listed as February 9, 1914. She was somewhere in the middle of the birth order. She had several older brothers and two older sisters (Kay and Nettie). She also had several younger brothers and one younger sister (Elsie). All total, there were four girls and nine boys. There was also a boy who died on the boat during the trip from Poland, so there were 14 children.
They were extremely poor. They had a very small house that their father built himself, and a barn. There was a fireplace and a wood stove for cooking and baking. They kept it burning most of the time to also keep the house warm. It gets very cold in Saskatchewan. They had no electricity or running water. They had a well and hauled their water in buckets into the house. Of course, they used an outdoors outhouse to go to the bathroom. Everyone had horse drawn wagons for travel because there were no cars, nor paved roads. The family grew most of their food and raised cows, chickens, geese and pigs. I don’t know how they got their clothes but I’m sure they must have been made at home.
When they would go to town, the children saw other people there who had fine clothes and fancy carriages. They also attended school with other children who were far better off than they were. My aunt Kay and my mother wondered about that. They couldn’t figure out why they seemed to be the poorest family around. Since there were only four girls in the family, they were made to do all of the “women’s work” which kept them out of school a great deal. They began to resent their entire living situation.
Their mother (my grandmother) had epilepsy. One day she had a seizure and fell onto the hot wood stove. She was seriously burned. From what I was told, she was bedridden for almost an entire year while her burns healed. During that time, she gave birth to another child!! Kay and Frankie had to raise the smaller children. They were also illiterate because they missed so much school and they couldn’t afford to buy books to have at home. Their parents never learned to speak English.
When my aunt Kay was around 21 and my mother was 16, they ran away together. They never returned to Saskatchewan. I don’t know the entire story but I know they went to Chicago, Illinois and somehow ended up in Seattle, Washington. Frankie got a job when she was 18 at the Washington Athletic Club, as an elevator operator. She was quite pretty and caught the eye of my father who lived there....
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
MY FAMILY HISTORY
Chapter 2, Part 1 - MY FATHER
Before talking about the second boarding school I attended, I wanted to tell a brief history about my ancestors. There is little I know about my family tree but want to write down what I do know so it is documented here for my descendants.
My grandparents on my father’s side were all born in the USA and were descended from England. I know nothing about my great-grandparents. My grandparents lived in Hardwick, Massachusetts, a very small town. My grandfather was a barber and the town lamplighter. The street lights were gaslights and needed to be lit every evening. This was prior to electricity. My grandmother’s name was Maude. Other than that, there is nothing else I know about them.
My father was born in Hardwick on July 5, 1897. He had three brothers and one sister. I don’t know the birth order but I do know his sister was the youngest. Their names were typical of the times and I find them amusing. They were Charles Stanley (Rogers), Arthur Oswald, Clarence Ralph, Waldo and Gertrude. (I don’t know the middle names of the last two). My father hated his name because at the time there was a newspaper cartoon about a dufus called “Clarence the Cop”. As soon as he was old enough he legally changed it to Ralph Clarence Rogers, or Ralph C. Rogers. He tried to never divulge that his middle name was Clarence. He also always told everyone that his birthday was on July 4th. He said “the entire nation celebrates my birthday!!!”
All three brothers grew up to be successful. Each one of them owned their own business. They all moved to New Jersey when they were adults. Waldo owned a paint store and was also a painter. His claim to fame was he had a contract and was the one who painted the gold ball on the top of the Lightning Rod at the very tip top of the Empire State Building. Gertrude married a man who owned a large tile company and his claim to fame was that his company tiled the Holland Tunnel. Gertrude never had children and she lived very extravagantly with marble floors, expensive imported furniture, lots of fur coats, gold and diamonds. I don’t remember what my other uncles did for a living.
Ralph was the “black sheep” of the family. He learned early on that he had a very wealthy aunt who lived in Victoria, Canada. She was a widow and her husband had founded a very prominent candy company called “Rogers Chocolates” which she inherited. She had no children. Her name was Leah Rogers. As soon as he was able, Ralph moved to Victoria to visit his poor, lonely aunt to keep her company.
He arrived in Canada during the Depression. He convinced his Aunt Leah to accompany him on a trip that took them all over England and Europe. They were gone for over a year. In those days, there were no airplanes so to go to Europe so you had to take a boat. They sailed on the Cunard Lines. There were two main cruise ship companies, The Cunard Lines and White Star Lines. The Titanic was one of the White Star Line Ships. I still have a trunk full of memorabilia from his trip including 16 mm films he took with a movie camera.
Naturally, his Aunt paid for everything and he was her “escort”. I was told once that she really didn’t know she was paying for it until sometime after the tour was over.
Something happened that turned his aunt against him (I think it was because he was spending all of her money and lying to her) and she kicked him out. As a result she disinherited him, his mother and his brothers and sister. For this he was black-balled from his own family and asked to never return to New Jersey.
While he was living with his aunt he became quite the “man about town” hob-nobbing with the elite rich. Somehow he even hung out with the, The Duke and Duchess of Windsor; Prince Edward the eighth, Prince of Whales, and his wife Wallis Simpson. The Prince had been King Edward and he abdicated the throne to marry a divorced woman, which meant he could no longer be King. I have a picture of my father with the Prince. I also saw at one time a trunk full of old newspapers with many articles about Ralph Rogers, the “socialite”. The trunk got stolen sometime in the 1960’s.
Ralph claimed to be a cousin of Will Rogers and I have a picture of them together. It was taken at the airport in Seattle just hours before Will Rogers’ plane crashed. He was killed along with his pilot Wiley Post. I have never been able to verify that they were actually related. Ralph said his father and Will Rogers’ father were brothers.
I also have a picture of him with Jean Harlow and I don’t know how he met her. He was close friends with and hung out with Jimmy McLarnin, who was a two-time World Welterweight Champion Boxer. I met Mr. McLarnin when I first moved to Hollywood, where he lived at the time. I was able to verify that he was indeed a close friend of my father’s.
After being kicked out of his aunt’s house, he moved to Seattle, Washington. He lived in the Washington Athletic Club which was a high-end exclusive apartment/club for men. It was required that you be a member in order to live there. It is still there in Seattle and still very expensive and exclusive. There are also shops, restaurants, work-out rooms and a pool along with living quarters. It is rather like an expensive hotel. I will tell how he met my mother after I tell you about her upbringing and what brought her to Seattle.
Before talking about the second boarding school I attended, I wanted to tell a brief history about my ancestors. There is little I know about my family tree but want to write down what I do know so it is documented here for my descendants.
My grandparents on my father’s side were all born in the USA and were descended from England. I know nothing about my great-grandparents. My grandparents lived in Hardwick, Massachusetts, a very small town. My grandfather was a barber and the town lamplighter. The street lights were gaslights and needed to be lit every evening. This was prior to electricity. My grandmother’s name was Maude. Other than that, there is nothing else I know about them.
My father was born in Hardwick on July 5, 1897. He had three brothers and one sister. I don’t know the birth order but I do know his sister was the youngest. Their names were typical of the times and I find them amusing. They were Charles Stanley (Rogers), Arthur Oswald, Clarence Ralph, Waldo and Gertrude. (I don’t know the middle names of the last two). My father hated his name because at the time there was a newspaper cartoon about a dufus called “Clarence the Cop”. As soon as he was old enough he legally changed it to Ralph Clarence Rogers, or Ralph C. Rogers. He tried to never divulge that his middle name was Clarence. He also always told everyone that his birthday was on July 4th. He said “the entire nation celebrates my birthday!!!”
All three brothers grew up to be successful. Each one of them owned their own business. They all moved to New Jersey when they were adults. Waldo owned a paint store and was also a painter. His claim to fame was he had a contract and was the one who painted the gold ball on the top of the Lightning Rod at the very tip top of the Empire State Building. Gertrude married a man who owned a large tile company and his claim to fame was that his company tiled the Holland Tunnel. Gertrude never had children and she lived very extravagantly with marble floors, expensive imported furniture, lots of fur coats, gold and diamonds. I don’t remember what my other uncles did for a living.
Ralph was the “black sheep” of the family. He learned early on that he had a very wealthy aunt who lived in Victoria, Canada. She was a widow and her husband had founded a very prominent candy company called “Rogers Chocolates” which she inherited. She had no children. Her name was Leah Rogers. As soon as he was able, Ralph moved to Victoria to visit his poor, lonely aunt to keep her company.
He arrived in Canada during the Depression. He convinced his Aunt Leah to accompany him on a trip that took them all over England and Europe. They were gone for over a year. In those days, there were no airplanes so to go to Europe so you had to take a boat. They sailed on the Cunard Lines. There were two main cruise ship companies, The Cunard Lines and White Star Lines. The Titanic was one of the White Star Line Ships. I still have a trunk full of memorabilia from his trip including 16 mm films he took with a movie camera.
Naturally, his Aunt paid for everything and he was her “escort”. I was told once that she really didn’t know she was paying for it until sometime after the tour was over.
Something happened that turned his aunt against him (I think it was because he was spending all of her money and lying to her) and she kicked him out. As a result she disinherited him, his mother and his brothers and sister. For this he was black-balled from his own family and asked to never return to New Jersey.
While he was living with his aunt he became quite the “man about town” hob-nobbing with the elite rich. Somehow he even hung out with the, The Duke and Duchess of Windsor; Prince Edward the eighth, Prince of Whales, and his wife Wallis Simpson. The Prince had been King Edward and he abdicated the throne to marry a divorced woman, which meant he could no longer be King. I have a picture of my father with the Prince. I also saw at one time a trunk full of old newspapers with many articles about Ralph Rogers, the “socialite”. The trunk got stolen sometime in the 1960’s.
Ralph claimed to be a cousin of Will Rogers and I have a picture of them together. It was taken at the airport in Seattle just hours before Will Rogers’ plane crashed. He was killed along with his pilot Wiley Post. I have never been able to verify that they were actually related. Ralph said his father and Will Rogers’ father were brothers.
I also have a picture of him with Jean Harlow and I don’t know how he met her. He was close friends with and hung out with Jimmy McLarnin, who was a two-time World Welterweight Champion Boxer. I met Mr. McLarnin when I first moved to Hollywood, where he lived at the time. I was able to verify that he was indeed a close friend of my father’s.
After being kicked out of his aunt’s house, he moved to Seattle, Washington. He lived in the Washington Athletic Club which was a high-end exclusive apartment/club for men. It was required that you be a member in order to live there. It is still there in Seattle and still very expensive and exclusive. There are also shops, restaurants, work-out rooms and a pool along with living quarters. It is rather like an expensive hotel. I will tell how he met my mother after I tell you about her upbringing and what brought her to Seattle.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Chapter 1, Part 4 - CONTINUED...
During the summer, Bev, Bill and I attended summer camps, usually for 12 weeks. We would arrive one to two weeks before the other campers arrived and we would stay the same amount of time after they all left. We would work preparing things beforehand and putting things away afterward. We went to a camp in Issaquah when it was nothing but woods and a teeny tiny town. Now it is a big town, full of luxurious homes and hardly any woods.
For several years we went to a camp on Orcas Island in the San Juan Islands called “Four Winds”. It is still there. It was by far the nicest (ritziest) camp we ever attended. It was very expensive. Bev and Bill worked there as counselors to help pay for me to stay there. We wore uniforms. The girls wore a middy and tie, like sailors wear, and bloomers! The boys wore a middy and bell bottom trousers or shorts. The owner of the camp was from England. There were sail boats of all sizes, horses, catamarans, canoes and row boats. We played tennis and badminton. There were six campers and a counselor to each log cabin. Each cabin had a fireplace. We went clam digging and had fires on the beach. The activities were planned and never-ending. It was fantastic!
The majority of campers were from extremely wealthy families. Many of them came from far away places, even Europe and South America. Some even flew in on private jets. One of the campers had a bodyguard that was with him all the time. His name was Bobby Brinks. His father owned Brinks Armored Trucks and there had been threats of kidnapping. The parents of campers from Texas owned cattle ranches and oil wells.
I was so happy to be with my brother whenever I could. He moved to Wisconsin when my father sent him to “St. John’s Military Academy”, a rigid military school, for his last three high school years. I loved him so much and really missed him. I would only see him at Christmas and in the summer. We corresponded by writing letters. Being at that school really destroyed him mentally. It started him on a downward spiral into severe mental instability.
********
Several events led up to Bev, Bill and I being put in boarding schools. Our parents divorced when I was still an infant. There was an ongoing custody battle and we were bounced back and forth between our mother and father for almost 5 years. When I was five, my sister, two brothers and I were living with my mother in Kirkland. My mother was extremely poor. We lived in an old, run down, housing development that once had been army barracks. Kirkland is now where the very wealthy live, mainly because of Microsoft.
One morning we were sitting at the breakfast table when my mother fell backwards off of her chair. We thought she had hit her head and knocked herself out. My oldest brother, Jim, ran to the neighbors and they called an ambulance. It turned out she had suffered a massive stroke. Back then, the way to treat stroke victims wasn’t perfected yet and so she never really recovered from it. For the rest of her life, she couldn’t talk or use her right arm or her right leg. She was 34.
As a result, my father gained custody. He put us each in separate foster homes until he could figure out what to do next. We were in foster homes for about six to eight months. I don’t remember a lot about them but I do remember not liking them, missing my family and feeling abandoned. I personally remember being in three different foster homes. Then, my father rented a house in Portland, Oregon and hired a nanny to live with us and take care of the four of us. That didn’t last long because she found the responsibility overwhelming and subsequently quit.
That was when our father decided to put us in boarding schools. Jim was 11 years older than me, so he was 16. He ran away at that time because he had no intention of going to a boarding school or Military Academy. I didn’t see him again for 7 years. We would only get to see our mother, who lived in Seattle, about once or twice a year. She became a hopeless, helpless alcoholic. Our father made us tell the nuns that she was dead because divorce was taboo in the Catholic Church. Our father did not allow us to visit her at first so I didn’t see her again for several years. She died of a second stroke at age 44, when I was fifteen.
For several years we went to a camp on Orcas Island in the San Juan Islands called “Four Winds”. It is still there. It was by far the nicest (ritziest) camp we ever attended. It was very expensive. Bev and Bill worked there as counselors to help pay for me to stay there. We wore uniforms. The girls wore a middy and tie, like sailors wear, and bloomers! The boys wore a middy and bell bottom trousers or shorts. The owner of the camp was from England. There were sail boats of all sizes, horses, catamarans, canoes and row boats. We played tennis and badminton. There were six campers and a counselor to each log cabin. Each cabin had a fireplace. We went clam digging and had fires on the beach. The activities were planned and never-ending. It was fantastic!
The majority of campers were from extremely wealthy families. Many of them came from far away places, even Europe and South America. Some even flew in on private jets. One of the campers had a bodyguard that was with him all the time. His name was Bobby Brinks. His father owned Brinks Armored Trucks and there had been threats of kidnapping. The parents of campers from Texas owned cattle ranches and oil wells.
I was so happy to be with my brother whenever I could. He moved to Wisconsin when my father sent him to “St. John’s Military Academy”, a rigid military school, for his last three high school years. I loved him so much and really missed him. I would only see him at Christmas and in the summer. We corresponded by writing letters. Being at that school really destroyed him mentally. It started him on a downward spiral into severe mental instability.
********
Several events led up to Bev, Bill and I being put in boarding schools. Our parents divorced when I was still an infant. There was an ongoing custody battle and we were bounced back and forth between our mother and father for almost 5 years. When I was five, my sister, two brothers and I were living with my mother in Kirkland. My mother was extremely poor. We lived in an old, run down, housing development that once had been army barracks. Kirkland is now where the very wealthy live, mainly because of Microsoft.
One morning we were sitting at the breakfast table when my mother fell backwards off of her chair. We thought she had hit her head and knocked herself out. My oldest brother, Jim, ran to the neighbors and they called an ambulance. It turned out she had suffered a massive stroke. Back then, the way to treat stroke victims wasn’t perfected yet and so she never really recovered from it. For the rest of her life, she couldn’t talk or use her right arm or her right leg. She was 34.
As a result, my father gained custody. He put us each in separate foster homes until he could figure out what to do next. We were in foster homes for about six to eight months. I don’t remember a lot about them but I do remember not liking them, missing my family and feeling abandoned. I personally remember being in three different foster homes. Then, my father rented a house in Portland, Oregon and hired a nanny to live with us and take care of the four of us. That didn’t last long because she found the responsibility overwhelming and subsequently quit.
That was when our father decided to put us in boarding schools. Jim was 11 years older than me, so he was 16. He ran away at that time because he had no intention of going to a boarding school or Military Academy. I didn’t see him again for 7 years. We would only get to see our mother, who lived in Seattle, about once or twice a year. She became a hopeless, helpless alcoholic. Our father made us tell the nuns that she was dead because divorce was taboo in the Catholic Church. Our father did not allow us to visit her at first so I didn’t see her again for several years. She died of a second stroke at age 44, when I was fifteen.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Chapter 1, Part 3 - LIFE AS A BOARDER
The Visitation Nuns were an unusual order because many of them had been married and raised families of their own. After their children were grown and their husband had died, they joined the convent. All other orders of nuns are made up of girls who join at a young age and remain virgins their entire lives. The Visitation Nuns were older and had softer, more motherly natures. This would not be the case in the next boarding school I would attend.
The grade school girls slept in the dorm, but the middle and high school girls slept two to a room. The oldest girls were each “assigned” one of the littlest girls to take under their wing. Betty Jo Benson was to be my mentor. I immediately became attached to her. To me she was the prettiest and smartest lady in the whole world. Amazingly, when I was in my mid-thirties and living in Olympia, I discovered that she was living about a mile from me. I had met her son through a neighbor and somehow he had mentioned that his mom had gone to boarding school. Since that is quite unusual, I pressed him for more information and it turned out that his mom was Betty Jo! I still had her picture in my photo album!
Our days were rigidly routine. On any day at any time we would be doing the same exact thing we had done the day before and would do the same the following day. We got up, washed, dressed, attended Mass, and ate breakfast. Then we would go back to the dorm to give it a thorough cleaning, which would be inspected like barracks in the military. Then we would attend class. Also attending the school were “day students”. Not all of the girls were boarders; some lived at home and just attended classes during the day.
After school, the day students would go home and the boarders would have an hour of playtime. Next, we had an hour of study hall in one of the classrooms before dinner. After dinner, another playtime and study time and then we got ready for bed. Three evenings a week we would attend Benediction, a prayer ceremony in the Catholic religion. This is what I did every day for 5 years.
All of us wore uniforms every day. They consisted of a navy blue pleated skirt, a white blouse and a navy blue cardigan sweater. We wore knee-hi navy blue stockings and highly polished brown Oxford shoes tied with shoestrings.
A special time was set aside once a week to learn “etiquette”. We would all sit around a table set with plates, glasses and silverware to learn the proper way to eat, sit, and even how to wipe your mouth. Also included were where and how to place your napkin before, during and after you were finished eating. Very important was which plates, glasses and silverware to use for each course.
We learned how to set a table for a meal so we would know exactly where to place each item. There actually is a particular place for each plate, glass and utensil. There is also a proper way to use and pass around each serving dish with the food. We needed to know where to place each piece of silverware on each plate while you are eating and even what to do with your chair. Proper manners at the table and everywhere else was closely monitored and stressed.
*****
One of my fondest memories there was the winter of 1950/51. It was a record-breaking snowfall that year. That record still remains at the time of this writing. There was enough snow to build igloos, snow fences, snow forts plus the usual snowmen and lots of snowballs.
One day the nuns called me outside all excited. They yelled “Sharon, Sharon come outside and see!! I went outside and they showed me reindeer prints and sled tracks where Santa Claus had landed and then took off again. I was in awe! I just stood there with my mouth open for the longest time. Looking back, I think it was so sweet of them to go to the trouble it must have taken to do that for me.
The town of Lakewood is now a big city but back then it was mostly woods. There was a tiny “mall” called the “Lakewood Center” that had a few clothing stores, a movie theater, a soda shop and a dentist office. It was about a mile from the school. It was a big treat for me whenever I got to walk there to go to the dentist. He always gave me a ticket for a free ice cream cone in the soda shop, for being a good patient. The nuns would never leave the convent, so one of the older girls, or Betty Jo, would take me.
The boarders were never allowed to stay at the school on Holidays or during the summer. My brother, Bill, was 5 five years older than me and he was attending Mary Mount Military Academy in Parkland, nearby. On Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter, my father would pick the three of us up and we would stay in a Hotel somewhere.
My father’s job kept him on the road all the time and he didn’t have a permanent residence. When we wrote him letters, we mailed them to his main office in Chicago and his boss would make sure he got them. I always knew when my father had arrived to pick us up because I could smell his cigar smoke wafting in the hallways.
We would have a ball staying in the Hotels. We ate in the restaurants and went to movies. This was a time when television was just starting to come into being and few people had television sets. If you were lucky enough to come upon a TV, there were only two channels and they weren’t “on” all of the time. Sometimes for hours during the daytime, there would just be a test pattern on the screen. So, movies were a very special treat. Back then we were particularly fond of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movies.
I want to interject something I remember clearly about my father. He was bald, heavyset, very loud and outspoken. He was 45 when I was born and 17 years older than my mother. He continually embarrassed all of us wherever we went. I could go into lots of detail about that but I will save it for a later chapter. The nuns always welcomed him with big smiles and were very nice to him. His interpretation of their kindness and friendliness was that they were starved for male attention and were also very attracted to him.
He would always sit in one of the chairs in the Parlor so he was sitting at the front edge of the chair. With his legs spread, his balls would hang down over the edge of the chair. He thought he was giving the nuns a thrill, but I was always extremely embarrassed. My sister and I constantly pleaded with him to stop doing that but he did it every time.
The grade school girls slept in the dorm, but the middle and high school girls slept two to a room. The oldest girls were each “assigned” one of the littlest girls to take under their wing. Betty Jo Benson was to be my mentor. I immediately became attached to her. To me she was the prettiest and smartest lady in the whole world. Amazingly, when I was in my mid-thirties and living in Olympia, I discovered that she was living about a mile from me. I had met her son through a neighbor and somehow he had mentioned that his mom had gone to boarding school. Since that is quite unusual, I pressed him for more information and it turned out that his mom was Betty Jo! I still had her picture in my photo album!
Our days were rigidly routine. On any day at any time we would be doing the same exact thing we had done the day before and would do the same the following day. We got up, washed, dressed, attended Mass, and ate breakfast. Then we would go back to the dorm to give it a thorough cleaning, which would be inspected like barracks in the military. Then we would attend class. Also attending the school were “day students”. Not all of the girls were boarders; some lived at home and just attended classes during the day.
After school, the day students would go home and the boarders would have an hour of playtime. Next, we had an hour of study hall in one of the classrooms before dinner. After dinner, another playtime and study time and then we got ready for bed. Three evenings a week we would attend Benediction, a prayer ceremony in the Catholic religion. This is what I did every day for 5 years.
All of us wore uniforms every day. They consisted of a navy blue pleated skirt, a white blouse and a navy blue cardigan sweater. We wore knee-hi navy blue stockings and highly polished brown Oxford shoes tied with shoestrings.
A special time was set aside once a week to learn “etiquette”. We would all sit around a table set with plates, glasses and silverware to learn the proper way to eat, sit, and even how to wipe your mouth. Also included were where and how to place your napkin before, during and after you were finished eating. Very important was which plates, glasses and silverware to use for each course.
We learned how to set a table for a meal so we would know exactly where to place each item. There actually is a particular place for each plate, glass and utensil. There is also a proper way to use and pass around each serving dish with the food. We needed to know where to place each piece of silverware on each plate while you are eating and even what to do with your chair. Proper manners at the table and everywhere else was closely monitored and stressed.
*****
One of my fondest memories there was the winter of 1950/51. It was a record-breaking snowfall that year. That record still remains at the time of this writing. There was enough snow to build igloos, snow fences, snow forts plus the usual snowmen and lots of snowballs.
One day the nuns called me outside all excited. They yelled “Sharon, Sharon come outside and see!! I went outside and they showed me reindeer prints and sled tracks where Santa Claus had landed and then took off again. I was in awe! I just stood there with my mouth open for the longest time. Looking back, I think it was so sweet of them to go to the trouble it must have taken to do that for me.
The town of Lakewood is now a big city but back then it was mostly woods. There was a tiny “mall” called the “Lakewood Center” that had a few clothing stores, a movie theater, a soda shop and a dentist office. It was about a mile from the school. It was a big treat for me whenever I got to walk there to go to the dentist. He always gave me a ticket for a free ice cream cone in the soda shop, for being a good patient. The nuns would never leave the convent, so one of the older girls, or Betty Jo, would take me.
The boarders were never allowed to stay at the school on Holidays or during the summer. My brother, Bill, was 5 five years older than me and he was attending Mary Mount Military Academy in Parkland, nearby. On Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter, my father would pick the three of us up and we would stay in a Hotel somewhere.
My father’s job kept him on the road all the time and he didn’t have a permanent residence. When we wrote him letters, we mailed them to his main office in Chicago and his boss would make sure he got them. I always knew when my father had arrived to pick us up because I could smell his cigar smoke wafting in the hallways.
We would have a ball staying in the Hotels. We ate in the restaurants and went to movies. This was a time when television was just starting to come into being and few people had television sets. If you were lucky enough to come upon a TV, there were only two channels and they weren’t “on” all of the time. Sometimes for hours during the daytime, there would just be a test pattern on the screen. So, movies were a very special treat. Back then we were particularly fond of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movies.
I want to interject something I remember clearly about my father. He was bald, heavyset, very loud and outspoken. He was 45 when I was born and 17 years older than my mother. He continually embarrassed all of us wherever we went. I could go into lots of detail about that but I will save it for a later chapter. The nuns always welcomed him with big smiles and were very nice to him. His interpretation of their kindness and friendliness was that they were starved for male attention and were also very attracted to him.
He would always sit in one of the chairs in the Parlor so he was sitting at the front edge of the chair. With his legs spread, his balls would hang down over the edge of the chair. He thought he was giving the nuns a thrill, but I was always extremely embarrassed. My sister and I constantly pleaded with him to stop doing that but he did it every time.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Chapter 1, Part 2 - MY FIRST DAY
The next morning I woke up and was sitting up in my bed when Sister Elizabeth came into the dorm. She gave me a hug and asked if I had slept OK. She told me to wash up and get dressed. After breakfast she would show me around, and after lunch the other girls would start arriving. To this day I don’t know why I had to arrive the night before everyone else, but I assume my father had business to attend to and had made those arrangements.
On my tour of the buildings and grounds I discovered that the school was on a huge estate in Lakewood, Washington. There were at least 30 acres of land, all fenced. There was a huge cow pasture where cows roamed. Also, there was a creek that fed a large pond (or swamp) where I would later go for boat rides.
There were four buildings. They were all brick and were all attached to one another by covered walkways. The main building housed the rooms where everyone slept, including the nuns. There was a chapel upstairs where every morning a Priest would come and say Mass. We were all required to attend Mass every morning before breakfast. Also in the main building were offices, a Library, the Parlor and the classrooms for the high school students.
There was a separate building that housed the kitchen and the dining room. Another building had the classrooms for the grade school students. And finally, there was a building with two recreation rooms, one for the high school and one for the grade school. Throughout the wooded property was a myriad of religious statues and shrines where the nuns and the students would go to read or pray.
Several hundred feet away from the main cluster of buildings, there was a house nestled in the woods where the caretaker/grounds’ keeper and his family lived. Next to their house was a barn. They raised the cows, pigs and chickens, which he slaughtered, and we were eventually fed. He had a wife and two daughters who attended the school. The school was called “Visitation Villa” after the order of Visitation Nuns that ran the convent and school. Years later they would sell the property to a developer who would turn it into a large Shopping Center called “Villa Plaza”. Now it is called “Lakewood Mall”.
On my first full day the parents started to bring their daughters to the school starting just after lunch until around 4:00 PM. Some of the girls were as scared as I was and others were seasoned experts on life in boarding school. Almost all of the girls stayed at the school during the week but went home every weekend to their homes nearby. I was an exception and rarely went anywhere on weekends unless I stayed with another student at her home. Sometimes I would get to stay with my aunt who lived nearby. She had four boys who were all younger than me, so she already had her hands full and I didn’t stay there often. She was my mother’s older sister.
There were about 36 boarders, total, 16 in the grade school and 20 from 7th to 12th grades – a very small school by today’s standards. I was the youngest and the only one in first grade. The girl closest to my age was in 4th grade. This was lucky for me because I became the “pet” of all the nuns. Every one of them had a soft spot in their heart for me.
My sister, Beverly, was in the 8th grade and also attended Visitation Villa. We both spent the next 5 years there. She didn’t arrive until a couple of weeks after I did. I don’t remember why or where she had been but her arrival was a godsend to me! I was no longer “alone”. However, the grade school boarders and the high school boarders had completely different living quarters and schedules, so the only times I would see her were at mealtimes. We all ate together in the dining room. I would also see her on week-ends because many times we were the only two boarders at the school over the week-end. Almost all of the other girls went home every week-end.
On my tour of the buildings and grounds I discovered that the school was on a huge estate in Lakewood, Washington. There were at least 30 acres of land, all fenced. There was a huge cow pasture where cows roamed. Also, there was a creek that fed a large pond (or swamp) where I would later go for boat rides.
There were four buildings. They were all brick and were all attached to one another by covered walkways. The main building housed the rooms where everyone slept, including the nuns. There was a chapel upstairs where every morning a Priest would come and say Mass. We were all required to attend Mass every morning before breakfast. Also in the main building were offices, a Library, the Parlor and the classrooms for the high school students.
There was a separate building that housed the kitchen and the dining room. Another building had the classrooms for the grade school students. And finally, there was a building with two recreation rooms, one for the high school and one for the grade school. Throughout the wooded property was a myriad of religious statues and shrines where the nuns and the students would go to read or pray.
Several hundred feet away from the main cluster of buildings, there was a house nestled in the woods where the caretaker/grounds’ keeper and his family lived. Next to their house was a barn. They raised the cows, pigs and chickens, which he slaughtered, and we were eventually fed. He had a wife and two daughters who attended the school. The school was called “Visitation Villa” after the order of Visitation Nuns that ran the convent and school. Years later they would sell the property to a developer who would turn it into a large Shopping Center called “Villa Plaza”. Now it is called “Lakewood Mall”.
On my first full day the parents started to bring their daughters to the school starting just after lunch until around 4:00 PM. Some of the girls were as scared as I was and others were seasoned experts on life in boarding school. Almost all of the girls stayed at the school during the week but went home every weekend to their homes nearby. I was an exception and rarely went anywhere on weekends unless I stayed with another student at her home. Sometimes I would get to stay with my aunt who lived nearby. She had four boys who were all younger than me, so she already had her hands full and I didn’t stay there often. She was my mother’s older sister.
There were about 36 boarders, total, 16 in the grade school and 20 from 7th to 12th grades – a very small school by today’s standards. I was the youngest and the only one in first grade. The girl closest to my age was in 4th grade. This was lucky for me because I became the “pet” of all the nuns. Every one of them had a soft spot in their heart for me.
My sister, Beverly, was in the 8th grade and also attended Visitation Villa. We both spent the next 5 years there. She didn’t arrive until a couple of weeks after I did. I don’t remember why or where she had been but her arrival was a godsend to me! I was no longer “alone”. However, the grade school boarders and the high school boarders had completely different living quarters and schedules, so the only times I would see her were at mealtimes. We all ate together in the dining room. I would also see her on week-ends because many times we were the only two boarders at the school over the week-end. Almost all of the other girls went home every week-end.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Chapter 1, Part 1 - VISITATION VILLA
My father’s car was a big Buick. Back in the late 40’s all cars were big but Buick’s were the biggest. It seemed even bigger to me because I was almost six, and very small. I wasn’t quite sure where we were going. He told me that he was taking me to “boarding school”. I didn’t know what that was, but somehow I was scared. He said: “you will be going to one of the finest schools, where you will learn to be a lady”.
It was after dark when we arrived. We went through two massive rod iron gates and drove down a long, winding driveway lined with trees until we saw the lights coming from the convent. We pulled into the huge circular driveway in front of the main building that had columns like a Southern Mansion. As soon as we pulled up, two nuns in black habits came out to greet us. Now I was really scared because to me they looked like ghosts. They wore long black robes and had black veils covering their heads. I looked at my father with a look that said “please don’t leave me here”. My father was jovial and opened the door and said: “come on darlin’, come and meet the good sisters”.
We were led into a room they called “the parlor”. It had exquisite rugs on polished wood floors and was full of luxurious Elizabethan furniture. The two nuns invited us to sit down. There were ashtrays in the parlor and my father proceeded to light up one of his expensive cigars. The two nuns commented on how they loved the smell of a fine cigar.
What happened after that, I don’t remember, because my mind reeled with the thought that I was going to be left there with - them. They seemed happy and cheerful, so maybe there was a small chance that they wouldn’t torture me and throw me into the dungeon. After twenty minutes or so of talking, my father got up to leave.
There is no way I can tell anyone the feelings I experienced at that moment. If I could have attached myself to his leg – permanently - I would have, never to let go. I could not imagine what was in store for me there. He had previously had a tour of the school so he just said his good-byes to the Sisters and to me and took off in his big Buick into the night.
The two nuns were Sister Elizabeth and Sister Charlotte. They tried to assure me that everything would be just wonderful. They led me down a very long hallway with high ceilings. There were closed doors lining the hallway and I was left to imagine what was behind those doors. The two nuns took me to my room – a dormitory with 16 beds – 8 on one side and 8 on the other, in two neat rows. There was a chest of drawers in between each bed. I was the first boarder to arrive, so I would be staying in this enormous room tonight - all by myself.
They said I was lucky to be the first to arrive because I could choose any bed I wanted! I picked the one closest to the door. They showed me where the bathroom was. It was completely lined, floor and walls, with small white octagon-shaped tiles. There were three sinks, two toilets, and one bathtub. A white curtain hung from metal pipes above the tub and surrounded the bathtub.
I was told to unpack my bag and put my things into the chest of drawers next to my bed. We didn’t need to bring many clothes because we wore uniforms. We were allowed to bring only one “toy” and I quickly bonded to (and hugged) my Raggity Ann doll. After brushing my teeth and washing at the sink, they put me to bed. For this ceremony I was blessed with at least 10 nuns that came to meet me and welcome me and to say good night. Even though they were all trying to be nice to me, there was something frightening about the habits they wore. As they walked down the hall you could hear the rattle of the wooden rosary beads they all had attached to their waists. (This proved to be beneficial in the future because they could never sneak up on you without rattling).
After they all left, I felt more alone than I had ever felt. I didn’t know why everyone had abandoned me this night or what tomorrow would bring. I lay in bed acutely aware of every sound. Much later I was aware of the silence. I wanted to find someone who would talk to me and comfort me.
I got up, opened the door of the dormitory and ventured out into the hall. Across from the dormitory was a steep stairway that led up to what I found out later were the private rooms for the girls in 7th through 12th grades. The dormitory on the ground floor was for 1st through 6th grades. I slowly walked down the cavernous hallway. The ceiling seemed to be a mile high and I felt like I was shrinking like Alice in Wonderland. My cries did not bring anyone to me, so I decided it would be better to get back into my bed and hide under the covers. I must have fallen asleep because I don’t remember anything after that.
It was after dark when we arrived. We went through two massive rod iron gates and drove down a long, winding driveway lined with trees until we saw the lights coming from the convent. We pulled into the huge circular driveway in front of the main building that had columns like a Southern Mansion. As soon as we pulled up, two nuns in black habits came out to greet us. Now I was really scared because to me they looked like ghosts. They wore long black robes and had black veils covering their heads. I looked at my father with a look that said “please don’t leave me here”. My father was jovial and opened the door and said: “come on darlin’, come and meet the good sisters”.
We were led into a room they called “the parlor”. It had exquisite rugs on polished wood floors and was full of luxurious Elizabethan furniture. The two nuns invited us to sit down. There were ashtrays in the parlor and my father proceeded to light up one of his expensive cigars. The two nuns commented on how they loved the smell of a fine cigar.
What happened after that, I don’t remember, because my mind reeled with the thought that I was going to be left there with - them. They seemed happy and cheerful, so maybe there was a small chance that they wouldn’t torture me and throw me into the dungeon. After twenty minutes or so of talking, my father got up to leave.
There is no way I can tell anyone the feelings I experienced at that moment. If I could have attached myself to his leg – permanently - I would have, never to let go. I could not imagine what was in store for me there. He had previously had a tour of the school so he just said his good-byes to the Sisters and to me and took off in his big Buick into the night.
The two nuns were Sister Elizabeth and Sister Charlotte. They tried to assure me that everything would be just wonderful. They led me down a very long hallway with high ceilings. There were closed doors lining the hallway and I was left to imagine what was behind those doors. The two nuns took me to my room – a dormitory with 16 beds – 8 on one side and 8 on the other, in two neat rows. There was a chest of drawers in between each bed. I was the first boarder to arrive, so I would be staying in this enormous room tonight - all by myself.
They said I was lucky to be the first to arrive because I could choose any bed I wanted! I picked the one closest to the door. They showed me where the bathroom was. It was completely lined, floor and walls, with small white octagon-shaped tiles. There were three sinks, two toilets, and one bathtub. A white curtain hung from metal pipes above the tub and surrounded the bathtub.
I was told to unpack my bag and put my things into the chest of drawers next to my bed. We didn’t need to bring many clothes because we wore uniforms. We were allowed to bring only one “toy” and I quickly bonded to (and hugged) my Raggity Ann doll. After brushing my teeth and washing at the sink, they put me to bed. For this ceremony I was blessed with at least 10 nuns that came to meet me and welcome me and to say good night. Even though they were all trying to be nice to me, there was something frightening about the habits they wore. As they walked down the hall you could hear the rattle of the wooden rosary beads they all had attached to their waists. (This proved to be beneficial in the future because they could never sneak up on you without rattling).
After they all left, I felt more alone than I had ever felt. I didn’t know why everyone had abandoned me this night or what tomorrow would bring. I lay in bed acutely aware of every sound. Much later I was aware of the silence. I wanted to find someone who would talk to me and comfort me.
I got up, opened the door of the dormitory and ventured out into the hall. Across from the dormitory was a steep stairway that led up to what I found out later were the private rooms for the girls in 7th through 12th grades. The dormitory on the ground floor was for 1st through 6th grades. I slowly walked down the cavernous hallway. The ceiling seemed to be a mile high and I felt like I was shrinking like Alice in Wonderland. My cries did not bring anyone to me, so I decided it would be better to get back into my bed and hide under the covers. I must have fallen asleep because I don’t remember anything after that.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
INTRODUCTION
This is all a new experience for me so please be patient as I fumble my way through as I learn how to write this Blog. I'm certain it will improve with time....and some help from my friends.
For many years people have told me I should write down my life story. Mainly because my life has not been one of an average American girl. There were times that were extremely trying, difficult and painful, and others that were fabulous; which is the case for most people I would imagine.
The difference for me was the fact that I didn't live in a house in a regular neighborhood with my mother and father and sister and brothers. In fact, I'm not quite sure what a normal upbringing would be like. In my mind it would be rather similar to Leave It To Beaver where there was the mom and dad at home and your school down the street. You grew up with basically the same friends throughout grade school and high school. The dad played ball with his sons and the mom taught the daughter how to cook and sew and do the things that most girls do. They would eat meals at the dining room table together.
Even my adult life was not the run of the mill life. In my late teens and in my 20's I lived an elaborate life, living in a mansion with servants and limosines at my beck and call; rubbing elbows with the rich and famous and never going without anything I wanted. I even had my "Fifteen minutes of fame".
Drugs and alcohol changed my life and mapped my future. Scars from my childhood took a long time to heal and depression took control.
If for no other reason, it is worth it to me to write down all my experiences so my children and grandchildren can have a record of my life and times. I know almost nothing about my grand parents and few details about my mother and father.
I am also hoping I can purge myself of past experiences that have haunted me by getting them out in the open and setting myself free. Last, if my story can help even one person out there, it will be worth the telling.
For many years people have told me I should write down my life story. Mainly because my life has not been one of an average American girl. There were times that were extremely trying, difficult and painful, and others that were fabulous; which is the case for most people I would imagine.
The difference for me was the fact that I didn't live in a house in a regular neighborhood with my mother and father and sister and brothers. In fact, I'm not quite sure what a normal upbringing would be like. In my mind it would be rather similar to Leave It To Beaver where there was the mom and dad at home and your school down the street. You grew up with basically the same friends throughout grade school and high school. The dad played ball with his sons and the mom taught the daughter how to cook and sew and do the things that most girls do. They would eat meals at the dining room table together.
Even my adult life was not the run of the mill life. In my late teens and in my 20's I lived an elaborate life, living in a mansion with servants and limosines at my beck and call; rubbing elbows with the rich and famous and never going without anything I wanted. I even had my "Fifteen minutes of fame".
Drugs and alcohol changed my life and mapped my future. Scars from my childhood took a long time to heal and depression took control.
If for no other reason, it is worth it to me to write down all my experiences so my children and grandchildren can have a record of my life and times. I know almost nothing about my grand parents and few details about my mother and father.
I am also hoping I can purge myself of past experiences that have haunted me by getting them out in the open and setting myself free. Last, if my story can help even one person out there, it will be worth the telling.
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