While my mother was in labor the morning of June 4, 1944, nearby church bells chimed.
I was born in the Dexter Clinic-Hospital at 1:00 that afternoon, delivered by Dr. Keith Chapler. Dad was back from instructing advanced cadets in Texas for my birth.
The ringing bells were actually to call the town to church services at the Dexter Presbyterian Church, where I would learn about God in Sunday School, sing in the children’s choir, help with Vacation Bible School, and help serve scalloped chicken Memorial Day dinners my entire childhood.
Dad bought a 1939 Chevrolet while he was home–his first car. It needed work so he left it with his dad while he flew back to Texas.
After the normal ten days in the hospital, Mom and I went home with Grandpa and Grandma Wilson (Clabe and Leora), in their 1942 Plymouth, to the Minburn farm where he was a hired man.
My parents wrote back and forth often. I love Mom’s June 9 letter telling Dad that if she’d died having me, it would have been worth it!
And this one from Marfa, Texas, written June 25: He included a letter to his baby daughter, along with one to my mother.
“My Darling Little Bitty Hon, Has anyone gotten you a dolly yet? If no one has, I’ll get you a little dolly.
“Sure will be glad when you and Mommy get down here with me. If Mommy won’t give you nickles to buy ice cream cones, you just come down and live with me and we’ll have ice cream cones galore.
“Love, Dad x”
Dad couldn’t get back to Iowa except between cadet classes, so Mom and I didn’t move with him to Marfa, Texas, until August. Dad drove the ’39 Chevy, as they called it. Mom didn’t know how to drive yet.
——-
He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. – Psalm 147:4
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Such a lovely story. To think, you were born to the sound of church bells!
Wonderful to have so many memorabilia of your history!
Here is one of the few of mine that has been preserved:
https://vuurklip.wordpress.com/2009/03/21/1947/
Thank you. I enjoyed the 1947 photo, but certainly wish I could read the accompanying poem.
Here is a rough translation by Google:
https://translate.google.com/#view=home&op=translate&sl=auto&tl=en&text=inskripsie%3Amammie%E2%80%99s%20liefste%20dingin%20pappie%E2%80%99s%20grote%20schoenen1947wat%20het%20daardie%20kindgeweet%20van%20lewe%2C%20liefde%2C%20soenehartseer%20en%20berouof%20hoe%20sy%20w%C3%AAreld%20se%20gebeurehulle%20later%20sou%20ontvou%3Fwat%20kan%20di%C3%A9%20ou%20man%20vandag%20onthouvan%20daardie%20kinderlike%20innerlikewat%20so%20onbevange%20sy%20mammieen%20die%20kamera%20aanskou%3F
That is beautiful. Thank you!
What a sweet baby announcement. You are so blessed to have so many trinkets and treasures of your families past.
Yes, but what to do with them! I have those two because they were with the letters of the two younger brothers who never came home. There wasn’t one for Dale because he didn’t get mom’s V-mail telling him he was the first one she’d told she was pregnant. Stamped “Missing in Action” and was returned, I was the one who finally opened it, decades later. I wept.
I like this story and the baby announcement and letter illustrating it. All the little details make it special.
Thank you, Virginia. I had fun with it.
Great post and touching.
Thank you.
“eat a button off my vest”…😂😂 That’s a priceless euphemism right there! Great birth story!! We should all be so fortunate.
Mom burned the letters she and dad wrote before they were married. The next ones, she marked out places, but left this one as is.
The little dickens! HAHA I heard that one too. This is such an uplifting lovely post.
I love this story–and the letter! So sweet what she wrote about you, the little dickens. That is an expression I heard as a kid! Great pix, too!
Bless you, Luanne. Because families were split up before email, it those years have yielded a wealth of letters–saved because you don’t throw them away. My husband and I saved ours from when he was in Vietnam. Wonder at what point we’ll begin to go through those, or will we just let our son do it someday?
Yes, all those packets of letters are such treasures. Maybe let your son do it?