Rural Women's Stories Archive - Page 3 of 4

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 …
I live life with gusto

My cousin, uncle Jack’s daughter, was everything I wanted to be. She was tall, long legged, blond, finished high school, went to college, and was runner-up for Miss Toronto. We went to Rockaway Beach in New York together and saw my aunt doing laundry in an automated machine, not a wringer type with two tubs. I knew right then I wanted to live in America. I went home and told my Irish mom, “I’m moving to America. It has a much better way of life. She said, “I can understand; I came from Ireland for the same reason.” Born in …
A fabulous, fruitful, blessed life

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 …
Sister Patty’s, five short stories

My youngest sister Patty, while in the hospital for Leukemia treatment, told me these short stories. I said the first few words (the titles) and she told the stories. They are written using her words. It was priceless and so fun. When I was little “When I was little, I must have been a brat because they always said, ‘Go play in the street.’ They tied me to the clothesline, and all I wanted was to be around them. I didn’t want to miss out on anything. When I was little, I ran off every day to the neighbors because …
Survival by Gratitude

I concede, my early life was a little different. My father was a disabled WW I Veteran, and I seldom saw him. I didn’t know him at all. He died when I was eight. After high school, my mother took a train, all by herself, to New York City where she studied to be a legal secretary. When I was sixteen, my mother sat me down and said, “I need to tell you how you became my daughter. You were adopted. Your father, while he was a sheriff in Shelby, Montana, brought you home to me because he found you …
The Journey…

I’m sitting at my kitchen table booking a flight to the Middle East…talk about surreal. How did I get here? To the place where I get to embark on this once in a lifetime adventure? Let me tell you a story… When I was 18 years old, I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It was the summer between high school and college and I was so excited for a new chapter, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what to study. After my diagnosis, I promptly moved 6+ hours from home while managing a new illness. Needless to say, it …
Woman of Substance

“The value of life lies not in the length of days, but in the use we make of them; a man may live long, yet get little from life. Whether you find satisfaction in life depends not on your tale of years, but on your will.” Michael Montaigne *** Mary Magdalene Roland was born at the turn of the century, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month. In 1911, Mary turned eleven. Her parents, William and Anna Roland, lived in Dahlgren, Illinois. She bragged of how strong her “little papa” was; then stated that her mother was frail. …
A Wonderful, Wonderful Childhood

I grew to be who I am today because of my wonderful childhood. Raised in a small Oregon town, Prineville, my parents were older. When I was born, my dad, Cliff Campbell, was forty-two and my mom, Tressa Magee Campbell, very Irish, was eleven years younger. Mom was a teacher. She taught in a one-room schoolhouse where they all ate beans from a kettle for lunch. My dad was the operator of a service station. Behind the gas station there were little cabins. The large ones rented for $5.00 a night and the smaller ones for $3.00. My parents cleaned …