Thelma's Memories of Her Brother, John

From Homestead Shacks over Buffalo Tracks, published by the Roy History Committee, as written by Thelma Christena (Beck) Erickson:

John was stricken with cancer and died 18 March 1984 at Harve, Montana, where he was buried in the Veterans' section with military honors. John went into the service on 27 June 1942 and went overseas in August 1943. He received an honorable discharge on 27 September 1945, after serving in the south Pacific zone in a medical unit as a a mechanic sergeant. He helped carry out some of our missionaries that were held in the Philippines near Luzon.[1]

John married Lillian A. Akerlund of Malta, Montana, and six children were born to them: Connie Rae, 8 October 1943--12 March 1956; Vernon, 11 April 1947; Vicki Lynn, 27 September 1948; Neil Rowland, 9 January 1950; Beverly Ann, 9 February 1951; and Patti Lee, 25 October 1952.

In 1946 John opened a garage in Havre. He had the American Motors dealership and was a successful manager of this garage for 38 years. His brother-in-law and son, Neil, were his partners in the Beck & Akerlund Garage. John had a natural knack for owrking on motors and cars were his great love and making them run gave him pleasure. His wife, son, and brother-in-law have continued to operate the garage since his death.

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[1] This was likely the Raid at Los Banos.

Homesteading in Montana

From Homestead Shacks over Buffalo Tracks, published by the Roy History Committee:

I, Thelma (Beck) Erickson, remember my trip to Montana when I arrived at Roy with my parents and brother, Johnie, on the train. This was a long train ride. The last 22 miles to my uncle John's homestead, we traveled by pickup and car.

In Billings, we saw our first Indians. There was a pow-wow going on and we saw papooses, feathered head dresses, beautiful blanks and real Indians. What a sight for a seven-year-old!

It was all green at Trenton, Illinois, when we left and there was snow on the ground at Roy. Uncle John came with his pickup to haul our trunks and his neighbor, T. L. Peterson, came with his car, two-seated with side curtains. The back seat held our suitcases, grub box and some groceries and just enough room for me to sit while Mr. Peterson and Pop were in the front seat. Mom and Johnie rode with Uncle John.

It was late that night when we finally arrived for whenever we came to a steep hill, Mom and Johnie got out and walked and T. L. and Pop would push, as the pickup was weighted down with our possessions. We followed in T. L.'s car.

The next morning the snow was so white and pretty. All the winter wheat that had come up was covered. One of those late spring Montana snow storms. That same year, 2 August 1923, there was snow on Black Butte.

The folks lived in cramped quarters in the three-room shack with uncle John and aunt Ethel. He had moved another shack to his land prior to our coming and so when warmer weather came my family slept there and we continued to cook and eat with uncle John's family. Mom helped with the housework, cooking and canning and Pop helped uncle John while he was filing our homestead. At this time the land was not in one piece. One 40-acre plot was right on Crooked Creek with the creek running the full way across. Then there was an 80-acre plot with another 80 acres on the hill. The 320 acres had been homesteaded previously but was let go so it was again available. This place had a shack with a gabled roof and small dam, plus some old machinery had been left behind. This was four miles down Crooked Creek and just above Hennemans. Pop made a road across those four miles and finally got some culverts for crossings. He fenced all the land but this part, but the other section was out of sight from where we lived. There was often trouble with wires being cut which allowed range cattle, horses and sheep to get onto our land to eat and trample the crop which was so hard to grow. Also, range horses were gathered and shoved across the Missouri river and shipped out on the Great Northern Railroad from such points as Phillips, Hill and Valley counties.

In the fall of 1923, the folks got a shack moved onto the 40-acre plot where we were to live. It was roofed with heavy metal roofing, slate covered and tarpaper was put on the outside. The inside was covered with a heavy pale blue building paper put up with lath to secure it. Mom made curtains to put around the beds. In one corner we had a cookstove with two doors in the oven, a hearth in front and a water reservoir in the back, tin stove pipes and a metal roof-jack so that no wood would be near the pipes because they got hot. We had a brick chimney later.

As time went on, another building was added, giving us two rooms. We had one bed and 2 cots and at one time three beds in the new room. The kitchen was used as the dining room and a place for the cream separator. Cream was our cash product from milking cows. When we had company, there was a sanitary cot, with both sides that folded down to open into a full bed. Space was necessary to move about as one room was 12 feet by 16 feet and the bedroom as 12 feet by 12 feet. Later, we bought the Garwood house as they had moved away. It was added to our home and gave us three bedrooms and a brick chimney. It also had a little room that was intended for a bathroom, which was never built. We used that room as a clothes closet. The north room was my special den when I was home. Mom and I did a lot of sewing and made many quilts and rugs.

I started school at Little Crooked and boarded away from home with the Bakers for two terms. They lived at the Little Crooked Post Office and store and it was on the north side of the Rocky Point Trail across from the log school building, which was used as a dance hall, meeting place, voting and and political gatherings. Yes. There were politics then!

The Byford school district #207 was formed and had the first school in the 1925-26 term with Hazel Van Heining and Roland Schrier as teachers. Johnie and I and the younger Jakes children attended. I remember when I was at Little Crooked school and Bridgie Hickey was our teacher. She also was helping Egnatius Krafden learn English and how to read and write and American history so that he could get his naturalization papers. He was in our reading class.

Mom attended the births of the Jakes twins, Earl and Pearl, with the help of Mr. Jakes. She was with Mabel Cottrell and Murray when Gilbert, Edwin and tiny little Eleanor were born. I used to stay with Mabel and would ride their saddle horse, "Mistake," home in the morning and go back in the evening and pick up the milk cows and do the milking for Mabel. I also helped with the dishes. I stayed with them quite often as Murray was camp tender for Swend Holland, Sr., and was away from home all week. Mabel needed help with all her small children and couldn't do the milking.

With the money I earned, I bought my first pair of patent leather dress shoes with a strap. I cleaned them Vaseline and put them in a shoe box and wore them for Sunday and special occasions. I will also mention that the Phillips -- Abe, Jen and Len, who was Abe's brother -- stayed at uncle John's when he and aunt Ethel drove their new Chevrolet to Illinois in 1929 to take part in my grandparent's golden wedding celebration. Abe was never without his chew of tobacco and every other word was a cuss word but he was very kind and had a heart of gold. He showed by Dad how to lay brick and make mortar. Dad put up both our brick chimneys. The Phillips did the milking while my aunt and uncle were away but I wrangled the cows and did most of the milking as they weren't really able.

My folks got our first car in 1934 and it was second hand. This was shortly before I was married. My brother, John, went right to work on that car and that started him fixing autos and the car business which was the love of his life.

As I write this I realize many old friends and neighbors have gone over the Great Divide and we who are left aren't getting any younger.

***

I remember when Grandpa Jennings lost his job with the railroad during the Depression, Aunt Janie invited them out to Montana to live with her family and help on the farm. Grandpa, Grandma, Alice (Muir) Jennings, and their two sons, made the long train ride to Montana when Dad, their youngest son was still an infant, likely in 1932. Grandma took one look at the several feet of snow on the ground and decided she wanted to go back to Illinois. So they did!

Thomas Robert Ogden, Organist

Thomas Robert Ogden was born in 1957 and was the only son of Thomas Joseph and Elizabeth Ann (Fullerton) Ogden. I met him a few times as a child when our grandmothers would visit each other.

Thomas is a gifted musician. If my memories are reliable, as a young man, sometime between 1978 and 1983, he was an organist at the Vatican in Rome. During this period he traveled to the U.S. to give a series of concerts and invited me to a private concert for a group of music lovers at a home in Maryland in the Catoctin mountains near the Pennsylvania border. The owners had installed a lovely old pipe organ in their living room, which they had purchased when an old theater was demolished.

Roberta Fullerton's Doll Collection

About 1967 Grandma took me on my first plane ride. We went to someone's 50th wedding anniversary party, visited with Roberta, Grandma's first cousin, who lived on the west coast of Florida. Then Mom's oldest sister and her husband, Uncle Bob and Aunt Ruth, came to get us. We stayed with them in DeLand, Florida, for a few days before jetting off to Miami Beach. Quite the trip for a 9-year-old girl!

During the trip, I was photographed with part the doll collection of Grandma's cousin, Roberta Irene (Caswell) Fullerton:

Schalene Jennings with the doll collection of Roberta Irene (Caswell)
Fullerton, c1967; personal collection

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'Schalene Jennings with Doll Collection,' personal collection

Tribute to Mom

This post was originally published on Tangled Roots and Trees on Mother's Day 2014. She died four months later:

I wonder how many of us in the U.S. are writing about our mothers today. I thought long and hard about it as my mother is still alive but she deserves a tribute on this special day. I hope I can do her influence on my life justice.

Mom and Dad on the day of their marriage 15 November 1957; personal
collection

Once many years ago my siblings and their spouses descended on Mom and Dad's for a holiday. My youngest brother had recently taken some sort of personality test at work that consisted of 50 questions. We all had a good laugh when we discovered my husband and my mother had the same personality. They had answered 49 of the 50 questions exactly the same. The joke ever since has been I married my mother. And that's a very good thing!

She is stronger than anyone I know, but let Dad take care of her 55 years of their 57-year marriage. Now, during the last two years, she has become the caregiver. She has very firm ideas about wifely duties and child rearing that might make your hair stand on end if you consider yourself a liberated, modern woman. Yet she encouraged me to be strong, independent and be a partner not subservient in my marriage.

My middle brother, Mom and I at National Memorial Park in Falls Church
Virginia on Easter, visiting the grave of my paternal grandfather; personal
collection

She guarded her children as fiercely as a momma bear but never once blamed the teachers as many parents do today when their children get in trouble. We were punished if we misbehaved in school; the teacher was always right.

I was pigeon-toed as a child. Mom would fuss at me about it and even now at the ripe old age of 55, I look down occasionally to be sure I'm walking with my toes pointed straight ahead. When I see an adult walk the way I did as a child, I admit I wonder why their Mom didn't fix that!

Mom was sure I must have musical talent. Her father played a brass instrument in a marching band and the violin. I should have piano lessons. We bought a used piano and I began taking lessons with wife of our church's musical director. I had wonderful form, but absolutely no talent. I played the piece as well the first time as the fiftieth. But Mom wouldn't let me quit. Until one day, when I came home from school, she told a story on herself. She was in the kitchen getting ready to clean up after breakfast and she heard someone playing the piano. Since the only person in the house that played was me, she was sure I was late for school. She came in the room to tell me to stop practicing and get to school and discovered our Beagle walking up and down the keyboard, shredding a tissue. Quitting my lessons was only one of the very few battles I won. My argument was simple. If she couldn't tell the difference between my playing and the dog's, I had no talent.

Mom feeding my youngest brother; photograph taken in 1968; personal
collection

I was not only the tallest girl in elementary and junior high school, I was the tallest student in the entire school. In the 9th grade I met a girl who was almost as tall as me. She slumped so she would appear shorter. This seemed like a wonderful solution to my embarrassing height problem so I mimicked her slump. My mother disabused me of that behavior in short order.

We had our differences, especially when I was about 14 to 16 years old. I thought she had become a mad woman overnight and she thought the same about me! But for all the years since then she has been my best friend. There's nothing we can't talk about. But most importantly, she's my mother first. She still fusses at me and worries about me and wants the best for me.

A recent photograph of Mom and Dad taken in April 2014;
personal collection

I once told her I hoped I would die before her as I didn't think I could stand it without her in my life. I was totally unprepared for her reaction. She broke down completely and started crying. She said it's natural for a child to lose a parent but it is unnatural for a parent to lose a child. She begged me to stop thinking such thoughts. I have tried. Honestly, I have. But I still don't know how I will survive the deaths of my parents. They are the most wonderful people and gave my brothers and me an idyllic childhood and have been rocks to lean against as adults.

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'Mom and Children,' personal colleciton
'Mom and Children at Cemetery,' personal collection
'Mom and Dad at Indian Beach, 2014' personal collection
'Mom and Dad Wedding, Cutting the Cake' personal collection

Tribute to Dad

This post was originally published on Tangled Roots and Trees on Father's Day 2014:

Today is Father's Day in the U.S. So I am writing about my Dad. He and Mom gave my brothers and me an idyllic childhood and we are very lucky we can still share our lives with them.

My favorite photo of Dad on his boat somewhere on the Chesapeake Bay. 
You can tell from the wake, he is going his favorite speed: Fast; personal
collection

Dad's name is Charles Theodore Jennings; he was born in East St Louis, Illinois, across the Mississippi River from St Louis in 1931. His parents were Marvin Edward and Alice (Muir) Jennings. His father was a clerk for the railroad and my Dad was their youngest son. They moved to Washington, DC in 1941 when my grandfather took a job with the federal government. A year later, they bought a home in Arlington, Virginia.

My grandmother says Dad was quite a hell-raiser in his youth. He drank beer, got into bar brawls and raced cars. Grandma used to tell stories about Dad's wild side and he was none too happy about it. As a rebuttal he would tell a story about when he did something good. Once my brother told him, "Dad, that story is a repeat. Grandma is still telling new ones!"

Dad racing his sprint car sometime in the 1950s; personal collection

My Mother's parents didn't like him and didn't go to their wedding, though they changed their mind about Dad after seeing the way he treated their daughter and his children.

Mom and Dad at their wedding; personal colleciton

Dad worked out of our house, which was unusual in the 1960s, but great for his children. He was always home when we came home from school. He was the coach of every team sport my brothers and I played until I decided to try soccer at the age of 17. He told me he didn't know anything about soccer. Even though he didn't coach, he attended every practice and every game.

Dad graduating from Columbia Technical Institute as class
valedictorian; personal collection

When I was in high school he and I attended every varsity football and basketball game, home or away, and later we branched out to wrestling matches. He asked once if anyone was asking me out on dates and was appalled when I replied, "Yes, but I turn them down so we can go together."

Once the big man on campus asked me out on a date and stood me up.  Dad took his very sad daughter out for ice cream and told me how to handle him if he ever called again. And BMOC did call again and I handled him just like Dad explained. It felt great. I was pleasant, never acted like being stood up bothered me, and turned him down every time he asked me out in the future.

I almost married my high school sweetheart but was conflicted. I went to Dad for advice. He said, "I think he'd make a good husband to you, be a good father to your children, but will he be a good provider for your family?" I thought long and hard about that and decided I'd out grown my high school flame. And I thank the heavens for that every day.

Our family after we "acquired" my first sister-in-law; personal collection

After I started working, he continued to give the perfect advice at the perfect time. "When you make a mistake," he told me, "don't wait for someone else to mention it; own it and own the solution." As children, we never heard Dad brag about us, but would hear about it from other people. It made us all proud.

Dad is 82 years old now and still with us and for that our family is very blessed.  He's had major cerebral hemorrhages during the last 10 years that have begun to affect his mind and he can no longer speak much. But even when life has gotten hard, Dad still maintains his happy-go-lucky, sunny outlook on life. He's still teaching me important things.

The manner in which Dad has lived his entire life has made it so easy to love and cherish him and want to do anything for him to make him happy. He was the genealogist in our family for years. He and Mom would often take research field trips to look for old family records. My gift to him, and to myself, is taking that research over so it doesn't die. We talk about what I've discovered every time I visit and I hope he loves every minute of our genealogy discussions.

Dad clowning around

I am the luckiest daughter in the world.

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'Dad and His Boat,' personal collection
'Dad Clowning Around,' personal collection
'Dad Racing His Sprint Car,' personal collection
'Dad's Graduating as Valedictorian,' personal collection
'Mom and Dad Wedding,' personal collection
'Ted Jennings, Sr., Family,' personal collection

Memories of Marvin and Millie (Lange) Jennings

I always say I don't have an immediate family; I have an extended immediate family because I basically had two sets of parents. My father and his brother, Marvin Edward Jennings, Jr., married sisters. Uncle Marvin married Rachel Mildred "Millie" Lange. and Dad married Dorothy Ailein Lange.

When I was 5 months old my parents purchased their first home in Arlington, Virginia. Uncle Marvin had purchased their first home in Vienna, Virginia. On Friday nights the two families gathered for pizza and games of cards. Even before I was old enough to understand the relationship, my cousin, Joyce Jennings, was my best friend. Every time I spent the night at their house, Aunt Millie would cook my favorite dinners and breakfasts. Before bed she would create fabulous root beer floats. That was living!

After croquet. Left to right: Charles Theodore Jennings, Jr.; Charles Theodore
Jennings, Sr.; Joann Marie Jennings; Joyce Elaine Jennings holding Sammy;
Marvin Edward Jennings, Jr.; Schalene Jennings

Uncle Marvin taught me how to pitch and bat a softball and Aunt Millie taught me how to score baseball and softball games -- something I've enjoyed doing whenever I go to the ballpark to watch a game.

In 1967 our family moved to Vienna across town from Uncle Marvin and Aunt Millie. When I was a teenager, Mom and I used to fight from time to time about goodness knows what. In a huff, I would walk to Aunt Millie's house. I don't remember if I ever discussed the details of the fights, but she always made me feel loved.

Our families used to vacation together frequently and during the summer I turned 13, I stayed in Germany with Uncle Marvin and Aunt Millie. Those are some of my favorite memories.

Airport send off. Left to right: Charles Theodore Jennings; Schalene Jennings,
Dorothy (Lange) Jennings holding John Edward Jennings; Ruth (Lange) Meek;
Millie (Lange) Jennings; Charles Theodore Jennings, Jr. (with camera); Alice
(Muir) Jennings; Joyce Elaine Jennings; Joann Marie Jennings; 1970 at
Dulles International Airport; personal collection

In 1977 Uncle Marvin took a job as the town manager of Aurora, North Carolina, and he and Aunt Millie moved there. Mom and Dad moved to nearby Pamlico County the next year. A few years after that Uncle Marvin and Aunt Millie built a home next door to Mom and Dad's. All four of them played golf and would take off in Uncle Marvin's van with their clubs and luggage to all parts of the U.S. and Canada for weeks at a time.

Our families were always back and forth across the yards visiting and Mom and I were frequent visitors at Aunt Millie's for coffee in the mornings. We fished together, waterskied, played cards and on and on together. Memories that will stay with me forever!

Morning coffee. Mom and I at Aunt Millie and Uncle Marvin's house in
Pamlico County; personal collection

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'After croquet,' personal collection
'Airport Send Off,' personal collection
'Morning coffee,' personal collection

Memories of Alice (Muir) Jennings

Alice was my paternal grandmother and the only grandparent who lived past my fifth year. She was a great grandmother and loved to spend time with her grandchildren of whom she was very proud. She took me on my first airplane trip when I was nine years old and we went on several trips together.

I spent a lot of time at her home on Carr's Creek in Deale Beach, Maryland, after she retired. We used to go to Amish farmers' markets to buy fresh bread and other goodies. She would often take me to the local amusement parks at several Cheasapeake Bay towns. Once I decided I was brave enough to ride the small rollercoaster, which was made of wood. I was the only passenger. It was fun in the beginning, but after that first downhill, I wanted off. The ride operator was determined I would ride to the drop-off zone. Grandma was determined he would stop the ride immediately. She won and walked along those wooden tracks to the back of the ride to carry me back to safety.

Dad kept a small flat-bottomed row boat at Grandma's and we used to row all over the creek. Once when my cousin, Joyce, and I, took Grandma for a boat ride, I dumped her in the creek as we were tying up to the pier. Poor thing! She was covered in black, sticky mud. We would set out crab pots and crab all week, keeping our catch in a live box. Then when our parents came down on the weekend, Grandma would steam the crabs and we would have a picnic feast.

Grandma loved to play cards. When she started wintering in Florida, she would bring a new card game back home every spring. Our family played that game until she returned from Florida the next year. Slot machines used to be legal in Maryland when I was a kid. The local restaurant we patronized had one or two machines. You had to be an adult to play. So Grandma fed the machine and  I pulled the arm. We were so tickled when "we" won something.

Grandma took me to Williamsburg for several days when I was in elementary school. We toured through several of the buildings and had a fine time until we went to the Weatherby Tavern. I fainted in the tap room and Grandma's yelling brought me around. She had organized the entire tour group to carry me outside. We decided to return to her home after that and she drove halfway there with her left blinker on. No wonder so many cars pulled out in front of us!

She took Joyce and I on a Caribbean cruise when we were in our mid-20s. Grandma's half-sister, Henrietta Muir, joined us and we had a delightful time. Most of the time Grandma and Aunt Hen stayed aboard and gambled while Joyce and I took in the sights in Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Mexico. At our fist stop, however, Grandma and Aunt Hen joined us. We took a cab through Port au Prince, Haiti. At the time, there were few if any sidewalks and the streets extended from building to building. Drivers were completely blind as they approached intersections with no traffic lights. They would toot their horn and if there was no reply, they would proceed. If a return toot was heard, drivers stopped. Grandma was not a fan of this system!

She also loved to dance! Unfortunately, only her oldest son did as well. She found her outlet at local senior centers where ever she lived.

She was a great Grandma and is still much missed today.

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Personal recollections of Schalene (Jennings) Dagutis