Growing up as a banker’s daughter in a small South Dakota town of 400 population did not mean we had much. We didn’t have many clothes. I think that is why I love clothes today. I had one dress for church and a couple of dresses for everyday. When they got raggedy, I was embarrassed.

No one, ever, encouraged me to go to college. So, I made up my mind I was going to be self-educated. Everything I read was educational, and I studied art, archeology, ancient cultures, and religions. My mama told me, “Lucille, learn something new every day.”

At nineteen, I married a farmer. My classmates, all country girls, said, “Do NOT marry a farmer!” None of them did. Only me. I knew nothing about living on a farm. The only thing I knew to do was dishes. From the time I could stand on a little stool, I did the dishes.

LeRoy cried when he asked me to marry him. I said, “Why are you crying?” He answered, “Because I know how hard you are going to have to work.”

When I asked my parents if I could marry Leroy, my daddy said, “Do you love him?” My moma said, “He will be a good provider. He comes from hard-working farmers.”

We married on February 18, 1951. My daddy and mama, and LeRoy’s parents were all married on February 14th. We wanted to do the same, but we also wished to be married on Sunday, and that was the 18th.

We had no money, so, for our honeymoon, he gave me the choice of going to see one of his two sisters. One lived in Minneapolis, and the other in North Dakota. In those days, I had not been anywhere, and I was sort of afraid to go to Minneapolis, so I chose North Dakota. She was a great cook, and we wore out our welcome. We drove home in an up-roaring blizzard.

On March 7th, we moved in with his parents. We lived with them for two years, to the day. His mother, Anna, taught me how to cook, clean, milk cows, shovel manure, raise chickens, butcher chickens, garden, can, and reseed a lawn. Essentially, how to work hard. I still do. I have never had anyone even do my housework.

We finally moved into a house of our own. It had splintered floors, no running water, no bathroom, and no furnace. For fifteen years, and five babies, I pumped and carried water to the house for bathing, cooking, and laundry. We burned corn cobs for heat and cooking. I raised chickens to sell eggs. I remember being nine months pregnant and carrying a big crate of thirty dozen eggs. I prayed I would make it.

We milked twelve cows to sell cream. I washed the cream separator every day. That might not be such a big thing today, but try doing it with no hot water. My mother, while visiting, saw me sitting on a little three-legged stool, pregnant, and milking cows. She told my husband, “Lucille is not going to milk cows! She could get kicked.” After that, he bought a milking machine.

Early in our marriage, LeRoy said, “Lucille, if you never complain about our situation, someday I will build you a house with running water and a furnace. I never complained. I took him at his word.

I looked out the window one day, and he was digging in our front yard. I went out and said, “LeRoy, what are you doing?” He answered, “Lucille, I’m going to build your house, and I’m digging the basement. Now you go inside and draw plans for the house you want. It needs to be 50 feet long and 28 feet wide.”

My youngest child was born when I lived in the new house. At thirty-nine, I had a new baby and a bathroom.

I’m so blessed to have traveled the world. My favorite quote is from St. Augustine: “The world is a book and those who don’t travel only read one page.”

I lost LeRoy in 2003 and married Jack in 2006. I will be eighty-five on April 27, 2016. I’ve lived a fabulous life. Fruitful life. Highly blessed. I’ve had two wonderful husbands and wonderful children. All are Christians.

Written 3-5-2016

Dr J’s Comments

When I first saw Lucille’s picture hanging behind a white baby grand piano in her living room, I said, “You look like Elizbeth Taylor.”  A woman of grace and class shines throughout her home and her Christian lifestyle.

She proudly shared her discovery of roots tracing back to Roger Williams, founder of Rhode Island, and William Bradford, who came to America on the Mayflower, and established Plymouth Plantation.