Rural Women's Stories Archive - Page 2 of 4

We grew up learning to drive that old 28 International Truck

Born in 1930, I grew up on a farm near Marsh, Montana with two younger brothers. I did what most young people did; chores and milked cows. During WWII, when I was in my teens, help was hard to come by, and I was driving and working in the fields when I was thirteen. I thought nothing of it. I’ll never forget, I was hauling a load of wheat to town, and on the way home, as I was coming down a hill, the rear wheel came off and rolled down the hill in front of me. It was a …
It’s a wonder we didn’t kill ourselves

When I was little, my parents moved from Tribune, KS, where I was born, to Alamosa, CO, and then to Texas. In Alamosa, my dad went to school, and my parents had two more children. My mom’s brother was a cattle buyer, and he knew of a feed-truck driver job in Burlington, CO, so we loaded up and moved to a farm 15 miles south of Burlington, in the middle of nowhere. It was a blast. We had Shetland ponies and built forts in trees. We moved closer to the feedlot and rode a school bus, which was fun. I …
I would not trade how I was raised.

Raised on a farm was the best way a kid could grow up. I loved animals. I had twenty-four cats, an outside dog, inside poodle, a goat named Lucy, a horse named Bally, cows, chickens, geese, and an occasional rabbit we would catch. Every day I was able to see my grandpa and grandma, with my dad, for coffee. I could also ride the three-wheeler whenever I wanted. I learned how to bake with my mom, cook with grandma, and sew with Granny. I will cherish those memories forever. Snowstorms were the best; my brother and I would create tunnels …
My clothesline – my sanctuary

You can still see them, though they have become few and far between. Dotting the landscapes of farm yards, and even in some residential areas not governed by HOA’s. It would seem that they have become frowned upon by those that do not care to see the neighbor’s laundry hanging in the breeze to dry by the warm sun. Of course, I am talking about the clothesline. Growing up in the 60’s I don’t remember not having a clothesline in our yard, wherever we lived!! I recall helping Grandmother carry the heavy basket laden with damp bedding from …
For God’s sake, EAT!

Ready to be 75, it is hard to recollect which story would be most interesting. I would be almost four when Cindy was born, and I knew I needed to be loved by somebody. I needed differentiation from my younger sister. That has followed me most of my life. I never felt loved by Mommy. That’s not to say she didn’t love me, but I never felt love. A lot of the baggage she loaded on me, her mother loaded on her. My grandfather was a state senator, and my grandmother was entitled. She had a hired girl. She once …
My life changed when I accepted the Lord – Continued

I graduated in 1946 and began teaching at Victory School (called Fight School before WW11). School opening was delayed until October because it was the year Polio was so bad. I had whooping cough the first year as did many of the students. The board wanted to close the school, but I told them we all had it, so why not go to school. We just had a whooping good time. I was warned about Ivan, an ornery boy my sister-in-law had taught. The first day of school four first grade girls was walking around the corner of the building, …
My life changed when I accepted the Lord

I was born in 1927 in a two room house south of Akron, CO. It was a Sunday morning. My grandmother and Dr. Adams were there. My full maiden name is Erma Louise Graves, but I go by Louise. I was named after my aunt Erma. Two years later my brother Harold was born. Another brother, Donald, was born when I was ten, and a sister Velma, when I was sixteen. I started first grade when I was seven. From Akron, Columbine School was eighteen miles south, two miles east, and one mile back south. Marguerite Jenkins was our 6th-grade …
Grandma: A wonderful part of my life

“Well, good night nurse!” “Well, for peat’s sake!” My grandma had a twinkle in her eye, and she added joy to our lives. I have treasured childhood memories of grandma, most of them funny because that is how she was. She told embarrassing stories about herself. She was a great storyteller. Like the time she swerved to miss hitting a cat, with the car ending up on the side the neighbor’s barn. My first memory of being at her house happened, seemingly, every morning when we would go to grandma’s for coffee. She would cook bacon, eggs, and toast. I would …
Just be happy

I love when I’m allowed to have fun with no trouble after. No consequences. Fun at no one’s expense. Like if the whole world knew what I did, no one would be hurt. No one would mind if I were having fun if they were my friend. I don’t like when people copy what I do because they probably wouldn’t enjoy doing what I do anyway. For example, I’ve had a lot of people jealous of me, and that is hard when they have no idea what I had to go through. “Oh, you went to college!” Ya, I did, …
Life has never been boring

When I was a little girl, I didn’t do typical girl stuff. I went on adventures with my little brother. My dad worked for the Department of Wildlife, and we lived on several wildlife refuges. Those years deeply developed my love of animals and Mother Nature. My little brother was two years younger than I, and two sisters came when I was six and eight. When I was young, I had great aspirations. I wanted to be an archeologist and study artifacts in Egypt. I wanted to be a pilot like Amelia Earhart. She was my first S/hero. S/hero is …
I just lived every day – continued

I did see my mother again. I found her and brought her into my home, but she had lost her mind, and I had to admit her to an institution. I never heard what happened to my father. In Breslau, I lived on the fifth floor of an abandoned building. I also had a friend. She lived on the second floor of a different building, and when I wanted to see her, I stood on the street and I yelled, “Dora! Dora!,” so she could open the door. That is how I met Fritz Jacoby; he saw me from his …
I just lived every day

I was born in Breslau, Germany, on February 22, 1928. My mother was kind, and never laid a hand on me. She made a braid with her long curly black hair and wrapped it around the crown of her head. My father was a representative for a machine company, traveled, and was seldom home. He was very strict. If I made a mistake, he would hit me on the side of my head or pull down my pants and spank me with a belt. Today, he would be put in jail, but Europeans raised kids much different than Americans. He …
First real job and tenacity lesson

The summer before my sophomore year at Akron High School, when I was fourteen, I wanted to work at Schafer Drug. I needed money, liked the soda fountain in the store, and knew work was the only sufficient excuse not to go fishing with my family. I approached the owner/pharmacist, Rollie Schafer, and asked if he was hiring. A man of few words, he said, “No, maybe later.” I left, went back the next Tuesday and asked again. He said, “No, maybe later.” I’m not sure how many Tuesdays I asked, but he finally hired me. I was thrilled. I was …
High school, friends, and tears

Forty graduated in my Akron, CO High School class of 1964. I could write a story about each person, according to my perspective of course. We were close, and each was special. We had clowns, beauty queens, musicians, intellects, sweethearts, and athletes. We were Catholic, Four Square, Presbyterian, Church of Christ, Methodist…it didn’t matter. Some lived on farms and some in our ‘city’ of 1800 population. Some were obviously poor or wealthy, but most of us were middle class, happy, regular kids. We were raised with Elvis plus the Beetles, we remember our first TV, and the day Kennedy was shot. …
My story begins and ends with Mother

I don’t remember much of my childhood. I’ve often wondered if I blocked something traumatic from my memory, but I am almost seventy, and if I have repressed an unpleasant experience, awesome. I lived in a house with a lot of female energy and had a mom who never stopped teaching and pushing us to perfection. Thank you, Mother! My bedroom was always in the basement, on the NE corner of the house at 662 Cedar in Akron, CO. When I close my eyes I see pink walls, pink and blue flowered curtains and bedspread. My mother must have made …