Hoping for a way to share old photos and stories, on April 2, 2015, I managed to publish my very first blog post. I started out with Weebly, but it was so frustrating to work with that when I had a chance to learn how to set up WordPress, I moved all my Weebly posts to WP. (That’s why it looks like I started blogging in 2017.)
The unexpected story behind that photo, which became that first post, five years later was the basis of Chapter 28 in Leora’s Dexter Stories: The Scarcity Years of the Great Depression, called “The Imbedded Needle.”
Needle in her Hand
My grandparents were all dressed up to go out, to a wedding maybe? Or a funeral? Clabe was in a three-piece suit, Leora in a dark dress and a hat with a little feather.
“Mom, do you know where your folks might have been going in this old picture?” I asked.
“Yes. Mom was going to have a needle taken out of her hand.”
I knew the needle story. Grandma was visiting us once when I was a girl and showed us that she couldn’t flatten out her right hand. We were cautioned never to leave a needle stuck in the arm of a couch.
Grandma told how she’d forgotten about the needle she used to repair things in the small town of Dexter, Iowa, then parked it in the bib of the apron she wore over her house dress. Her tub washer was broken so she scrubbed the laundry–for nine people–on a corrugated metal washboard. She felt a stab in the palm of her hand.
It happened so fast, she said. And it had broken off so she couldn’t get a hold of it to pull it out.
They had no extra money for a doctor but, Depression years or not, she needed one.
Dr. Chapler numbed her hand and fished around for the needle but couldn’t find it. He sent her home, said to soak the hand in hot water, and he’d get a time set up for x-rays at a hospital.
Leora didn’t think about how hot the water was. She couldn’t feel it. It burned the skin on her hand, so now they had to wait until the burn healed.
The day the picture was taken, Clabe and Leora were waiting for a ride to the hospital, which was an hour away.
The fragment of steel was located on the x-ray, but the doctor still had trouble finding it. When he managed to cut it out, Clabe said that her hand looked like a piece of meat.
Yes, in the picture, I can see that she’s holding her hand behind her. That’s the only clue.
“But why would they get all dressed up for that?” I asked.
Well, during those Depression years, Clabe had two sets of clothes–overalls and the suit. And Leora’s choices were her housework dress or this good one.
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Our American Stories, June 2021– an 8-minute story
Leora’s Dexter Stories: The Scarcity Years of the Great Depression
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Congratulations on your blogiversary! I love all your vintage stories about Clabe, Leora and the family.
Bless you, Linda! I’m largely house-bound, so I’m thankful for all this electronic stuff as a way to share their stories!
Congratulations on your blogiversary, Joy!
Thank you, Liz! So there’s a name for it?
You’re welcome, Joy! So, I’ve read!!
Ouch! The “piece of meat” description made me cringe. Happy (almost) Blogiversary, Joy!
Much of what that dear woman went through during her long life makes me cringe. Thank you, Mitch!
This account about the broken needle in Leora’s hand reveals so much about their lifestyle at the time.Very interesting! Hopefully, you’ll be blogging for many more years to come, Joy.
Wow, thank you, Nancy! I sure have more stories to tell! ha
Congratulations to you, Joy, on the anniversary of your blog!
Thank you! Since I’m largely housebound, I’m so thankful for a way to share stories!
I am so glad that you started a blog and shared your stories with us!!!
You are dear, Linda. I’ve certainly enjoyed it, especially since I’ve become largely house-bound.
That’s why I started too. The scrapbook was starting to fall apart.
Thank God for the internet and websites!