Grandma's leters, December 1916-February 1917

Well, it’s been a couple of weeks, I know, but I’m back on track (again), and we’ll finish Grandma’s letters today. Then it’ll be on to something else from the Henderson Reunion Web site. (If you have any suggestions for topics of discussion, please let me know.)

The Dec. 4, 1916, letter, she mentions a little business I don’t recall her ever referring to before: People like her being paid to play music at the dances. I suppose it stands to reason she would have been paid; I just never thought about it. Indeed, if she was paid each time she played at a dance over the years, it must have provided some extra money for her.

She mentions, too, all the imbibing going on at the post-Thanksgiving dance, and names names.

In her Dec. 8 letter, she makes a statement that was still hitting home to me in the early 1970s when I was a boy going to school in Big Horn County: “I wish you were going to be here for the basket ball game tonight. I expect Cody will beat the boys pretty badly.” In Basin, we were a class B-sized school, and Cody was either class A or AA, and we’d play them every year in the role of sacrificial lambs. The worst beating was a football game; we showed up one cold, cold Saturday morning to find about 12-14 inches of powdery snow on the football field, and the officials took snow shovels to clear the five-yard lines up and down the field. It was a cold day, made miserable by the snow and having our opponents double our score. There’s nothing quite like playing sports for such a tiny, rural school.

She also mentions she doesn’t like teaching school much.

In her Dec. 10 letter, there’s a bit of a surprise – arguably her most blunt expression of love for Grandpa that I recall seeing in any of these letters:

“Dave, if you just knew how much I really do love you, you’d never doubt me again. I know that no one could love you more than I do, sweetheart. You are dearer to me than anyone else in the world. If I could just please you always, dear, I’d be perfectly happy.” But then she expresses regret: “But I disappoint you so many times, dear, and I try so hard to please you. I’d give most anything if I could see you tonight.”

And that’s the last letter of any consequence that she wrote to him – that we have in our possession, anyway. There’s a letter from Feb. 13, 1917, but it just details travel plans. They were married April 11, 1917, and their first child, Uncle Rip (David Ira), was born a year later, April 30, 1918.

It’s been really interesting to read through these letters. I’ve learned a lot about my grandparents that I would not otherwise have known. If you want to do more reading about them, Rip makes mention of them in his entertaining, detail-rich memoir, as does Mark in his. (I’ll post an edited version of my own mother’s memories soon.)

The September 1916 letters

After weeks of letting everything get in the way, I’m back to Grandma’s letters. Let’s pick up where we left off, In September 1916.

In the Sept. 3 letter, she writes of her sister, Roah, bringing her a gift – a signet ring. But, she notes that while she’s “quite proud of” this ring, “I don’t like it like I do my other one.”

I’m wondering: Is she referring to an engagement ring? Had Dave, by this time, given her a ring? Are they engaged? I ask because none of the previous letters ever mentions it. Do any of you know?

Her Sept. 7 letter is a gentle scolding to Grandpa for not writing letters often enough.

I have to admit I get a special kick out of her Sept. 10 letter, since she might as well be writing about her grandson Don:

“I’m getting disgusted with myself when I go to church. I can’t stay awake any more. I nearly bobbed my head off this morning.”

Later in the letter, she makes reference to someone who may be a rival – or not, maybe she’s not worried, but simply teasing:

“And I’m not much afraid of those Alabama school marms, either. I don’t believe she’ll look as good to you as some other people do. I hope not, anyway.”

I’ve said before that I really like these little tidbits of information about daily life that she drops into her letters. In the Sept. 17 letter, for example, she mentions she doesn’t want to travel to Lovell to a church conference because the car in which she’ll be riding is unreliable – it gets stuck and the headlights don’t always work. (Sounds like some of the automobiles I’ve owned over the years.) Also, and this is probably just because I grew up in Basin, Wyo., I like this paragraph:

“Ira and Uncle are going to Basin in the morning to get some coal and take in part of the fair.”

I like the detail that reminds us they had to use coal for heat – if you haven’t read Rip’s recollection of his youth, you should – and appreciate mention of the county fair, since that was always the high point of our year as children in Basin, with rides, exhibitions, a rodeo, games and many, many more opportunities for mischief.

Grandma also makes another mention of the “school marm” she referred to in the previous letter:

“I’m awfully glad that school marm didn’t come. I was a little bit afraid she’d beat my time but now I can rest easy. I don’t believe anyone is going to take my place, tho. They’d better not, anyway.”

It must have been another woman who was supposed to teach school there, but who never showed up. That’s just a guess, anyway. Still, it was enough to give Grandma the jitters.

The Sept. 21 letter offers quite a few more details about attractions at the fair and life in Basin during the celebration.

I got a bit of a surprise reading the Sept. 25 letter. Grandma writes of seeing a famous political figure:

“Saturday afternoon we left convention [in Lovell, I think] and went down to the
train and listened for five minutes to William Jennings Bryan. He is sure a homely old scout. Bro. Kirkham said what he admired about Bryan was that after every defeat, he came up smiling.”

That’s all for this week. Next week we’ll wade into October, at least, and maybe beyond.

Looking back through Mark's eyes

I don't know about you, but I love discovering what a writing coach once described as "little gold coins" sprinkled throughout whatever I'm reading. He described them as little surprises that reward, and maybe even enlighten, the reader.

As you read through Mark Henderson's memories of his youth, which I've excerpted on the the family Web site, you'll find lots of valuable, entertaining and informative items. For example, did you know Grandpa and Grandma moved the family around Burlington a little bit during the first few years of their marriage?

"While I was still very young, we moved to A.E. Schlaef's ranch two miles southwest of Burlington, where we raised some very good crops. At the end of three years we moved back to our own farm."

Or:

"In 1924 we moved to Orson Johnson's home in Burlington so my brother would not have so far to walk to school. We lived there only one year before returning to our own farm, which, at that time, consisted of 80 acres."

Mark also remembers details that soak the narrative with information about life's conveniences -- or lack thereof -- and customs of the time. Like this:

"In the fall of 1925 I started to elementary school. My brother and I had to walk a mile and a half to get to the school wagon every morning and back at night. It was a covered wagon with a pot-bellied stove for keeping us warm in the winter when it got quite cold. My aunt, Roah Dunsworth, was my teacher in the first and second grades ... . The only spanking I ever got in school occurred when I refused to act the part of the pig in the story of the Little Red Hen, in the first grade, when my aunt spanked me with an axe handle which had been fashioned into a paddle."

And here's another one of those gold coins, when Mark talks about the family's looming trip to Salt Lake City in 1928 to go through the LDS Church temple there:

"My older brother and I were old enough at the time to really get excited about such a trip and lay awake many a night planning and talking about that exciting trip."

Maybe it's just me, but that sentence creates a terrific little scene of two boys so excited for a journey they can't sleep. It takes me back to my childhood, and anticipation of various road trips we took as a family.

But this was no ordinary road trip. As Mark recalls, it was crowded and eventful. All the kids -- eight of them -- plus Grandma and Grandpa -- made the trip, via Yellowstone National Park, in a 1927 Chevy. It's a great story.



Also, Mark talks in some detail about farm life, school and religion during his youth. He captures -- as I said, with lots and lots of great, revealing detail -- what it was like to grow up during hard times. When I read his story, and our late Uncle Rip's, which I featured in January, it puts into perspective the current financial situation in our country and the world: troublesome, yes, but we're all watching it unravel on television or while listening to it via podcasts on our iPods.

Anyway, I hope you'll take time to read through Mark's recollections and learn a bit more about a great man in our family.

Henderson gatherings throughout the years

As I've collected family photos over the years, I think my favorites are the group shots -- mostly taken when members of our family gathered for meals or reunions. On the Henderson Reunion web site, I have various collections of these under different headings, but today I'll point you to the "Henderson gatherings throughout the years."

When you click through to the main page, the first photo you'll see is one of Marie, Iva (Marion's wife), Helen, June, Marsha, Gene and Ron. Everyone's smiling.

Compare that to the photo of Grandpa, Marion, Spud and Rip on this page. Spud and Rip seem to be having a good time, but Grandpa and Marion? No. This is why I love looking at these photos: It may or may not say something about the general disposition of the people being photographed -- maybe they just don't like having their pictures taken; I know I don't -- but it's fun to see the expressions on their faces, which tells us a little about the family dynamic sometimes.

The larger value, though, is that we have these images preserved for future generations. Many of the people in these photos are no longer with us. So, check 'em out.

Videos from the 2004 Henderson reunion

After the 2004 reunion in Burlington, I decided to upload some video to the Web site. I figured brief snippets would be the best, otherwise it would be the Web version of going to a neighbor's home and watching their vacation slideshow.

I settled on the idea of video from each of the siblings' introductions of their respective families. I like them, because they bring these static photos alive, and it captures a moment in time before the passing of Rip, Marie and Crockett.

Here are links to each of the introductions for Reanous & Merla, Helen & Don, Marie, Mark & Frances, and Rip & Geneva. They're not long, but it's fun to relive those moments -- mundane as it may seem in the abstract.

I also uploaded another few minutes of video, mostly without audio, of scenes from the reunion of family members sitting around chatting after the meal. Stick with it until the end to hear Reanous' comments -- it's worth the investment of time.

What I'd like to know is this: Does anyone else have some video to contribute, of ANY of the reunions. Just send it to me in raw form, and I'll edit together some scenes and add it to the Web site. The scenes mentioned above are downloadable, and if anyone's really interested, I'll be happy to provide all the raw footage I have from any past reunions -- although I tend to take more photos than video.

My thinking is, if we can distribute this stuff widely enough throughout members of our family, it won't go missing for decades like so much of the material on this site.

Please click on the "comments" button below, or send me an e-mail with your responses and I'll post them on this blog.

Looking back via Uncle Rip

I’ve been neglectful when it comes to this Henderson Reunion blog. I pledge to do better in the coming months.

For those who have forgotten about this, I decided to begin it in an effort to introduce, or re-introduce, all of you to our family’s rich history. Over the years, and with much help from you, I have collected a little treasure trove of information about our ancestors. But I have a feeling this is only scratching the surface – there’s a lot more out there, and with more of your help we’ll get it together and distribute it widely throughout our family so it will never be lost or forgotten or unavailable again.

Here’s my goal: Once each week for the next little while, I’ll highlight an aspect of the Web site, www.porterproject.com/index.html, to help introduce you to it. My thinking is, if I point you to some interesting bits of history about the family’s past, maybe it’ll spark an interest. What I’m hoping is that once you check out the site, you’ll find things to discuss on this blog – we can have a conversation about these people, about our memories of them, or our observations of the lives that were lived long before we ever walked the earth.

So, I’ll start with one of my favorites spots on the site: “Rip’s Recollections.” After our reunion in 1998 – the first family reunion since 1966, if memory serves – Rip and I started trading e-mails back and forth. It was one of the great joys of my life getting to know my uncle. (He was a font on hilarious lawyer jokes, too.) At some point leading up to the next reunion in 2000, I mentioned that it might be fun to have the surviving siblings – Rip, Marie, Mark, Reanous and Helen – jot down some of their memories of growing up in order to share with the rest of us. Rip responded enthusiastically, and the product of his efforts is a breezy, detail-rich look back at his youth on the farm in Burlington and right up through the mid-1940s.

For example, there’s this: “Our water supply was hand pumped from a drilled well behind the house. Water for routine use was stored and heated in a metal reservoir attached to the cook stove. Water for laundry use was heated in a large metal “boiler” placed atop the cook stove. Our bathroom was an outdoor privy well away from the house.”

Rip also speaks directly, if briefly, about the effect of his mother’s death on the family: “Mother’s health began to fail in 1929 and she passed away in late November after surgery in Billings. Her passing was very traumatic to all of us and hard to overcome. Dad was very firm that his family not be split up as some well-meaning relatives proposed.”

And he describes what it was like living in a one-parent household with all those children: “In the summer months when Dad was away on his ditch-rider job, he was usually gone very early, so we soon learned to take care of ourselves, doing the farm chores and breakfast and house cleaning. Uncle Marion and Aunt Ivy lived about three-quarters of a mile across the fields from us and we usually had lunch with them and after the day’s work was over we headed home and had supper with Dad. By then Marie was a pretty good housekeeper and did a lot to keep us going. It wasn’t a very easy life, but we managed to get along. Despite some very different personalities, we kids got along pretty well. It seemed that Carlos and Rip were the feistiest.”

And that’s just a sampling. It takes only a few minutes to read through, but it’s worth your time. Personally, as I reviewed it again before I wrote this blog entry, I couldn’t help but ponder the stark contrasts between his life during the Great Depression, and ours as the nation teeters on the edge of another profound economic downturn. Our family was made of strong stuff.

So, please take a moment to read Rip’s words, and share with everyone your thoughts about them.