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You are here: Home / Rural Women's Stories / I wouldn’t change a thing

I wouldn’t change a thing

September 4, 2018 14 Comments

Written By: Helen From: CO

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I was born in 1925 out south of town at my Uncle Steve’s house. The government tried to move men from the east to come out west and farm. They helped him get land and build a house. After his wife died, Steve convince my dad to come from Grinnell, Iowa, to live in the house. Dad had to agree to let Steve live with us until he died. So, we lived out there, and Steve lived with us. I went to the one-room grade school until I started fifth grade in town.

We had to move to town because of the dustbowl days and depression. Nothing would grow, and we couldn’t eat. Cows were dying. There was no grass. Daddy went to work for the WPA. (Works Progress Administration) He didn’t get money at his job, but this little ticket would come in the mail, and he would take it to the courthouse where they would give him money for groceries. We never had money. The only money we had was from mom cleaning houses for people when Akron was a big town. I don’t remember knowing anything about a candy bar.

There were seven kids in my family. A boy at each end and five girls in the middle. My oldest sister ran off and got married. My next two sisters graduated high school. I was third from the youngest, and as I finished grade school, mother took sick. I went to my Freshman year in high school, but then I quit because I had to take care of Mom and my little sister and brother. I was a poor student. I was more content in working hard for mom than doing my studies. I had to ask questions continually. As a Freshman, I had to take Algebra, of all things. I thought if high school was like that, I didn’t feel bad for not finishing.

When I was eighteen, Mom was very unhappy with me when I met Roy. In six months time, I wanted to get married, and I did. I had Dad’s blessing but not Mother’s.

We got married at the house. The Four-Square church didn’t have a preacher, so Mr. Johnson from the Assembly of God came and married us. Mother was not happy. Roy and I rented a cabin around Sterling.  After a couple of weeks, we went to visit my family. Teasing, my brother Richard said, “After two weeks, you are probably pregnant.” I said,  “I’m not going to get pregnant married to a trucker.”

Even on my wedding night he dropped me off at the motel and left for Lincoln. I suppose it was twenty years before I ever told my mother. I know she would have hated Roy if I had told her what he did.

How I met Roy was, he came through Akron. Four or five guys were in town at Odell’s Cafe. My friends called and said, “Helen, come down to O’Dells. This trucker guy is here, and he is going to take us out to the buttes.” I had to coax my mom and dad. They didn’t believe in that kind of thing. I cried, “I never get to go anywhere!” They gave in and let me go, with a curfew of course. I went half running down to the cafe, and off we went out to the buttes. When he parked the truck, everyone else took off, and I got out of the truck and stood there. Roy said, “Let’s walk up to the top there.” Before we went back to Akron, he said, “Would you like to sit in the front with me?” I said, “Oh, no. My friends sat in front on the way out and I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” He said, “We don’t care what they think.” So, I rode in the front.

I thought I would never see him again, but six months later, a truck parked in front of my house. Mom and Dad were home, and I introduced him as, “This is the guy who took us out to the buttes.”  Roy, looking at the piano, said, “Who plays the piano?” I answered, “My Momma does. I only play cords.” He said, “I have a mandolin out in the truck. If I brought it in do you think you could cord while I play the mandolin?” I said, “I don’t know if I can, I never have.” We had a lifetime of music in the house. Dad liked Roy’s music, but Mom didn’t approve of Roy being a trucker.

One night when he came through town, we went to Ft. Morgan to the movies. Driving through Brush, there were little beer places along the street. He pulled into one of those. I followed him inside. The waitress asked what we wanted to drink. Roy said, “I’ll have a beer, what would you like? With a bit of a grouchy voice, I said, “I’ll have a glass of water, thank you.” Roy said, “You don’t want something else to drink?” I said, “No, I don’t drink.” One night he told some friends the story of stopping at the beer joint. He said, “I knew right then I was going to marry her. That’s the kind of woman I want!” Hearing what he said pleased me so much.

Life has been good. If I had it to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing. You learn as you go along. I’ve had a home to live in, and finances from the government. (Medicare) It is just enough money to make me happy but not enough to make me greedy. I’ve had the same Mary Kay car (a car my daughter Bonnie was ready to sell) since Roy closed his eyes in January 2001.

Dr J’s Comments

Delightful memories from a ninety-three year old lifelong spunky woman. She is the mother of a dear high school friend and holds a special place in my heart.

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Filed Under: Rural Women's Stories

Comments

  1. Lois Scott says

    September 4, 2018 at 1:06 am

    A very heartwarming account of a life well lived.

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 4, 2018 at 3:43 am

      Lois, she did have a life well lived. She truly walks the talk of Christian living.

      Reply
  2. Katherine says

    September 4, 2018 at 1:36 am

    I also dearly love that woman! I have since the day I met her back in the early 80s. Would love to give her a big hug. Her and her sister meant the world to me. Kind, generous and loving women of God.

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 4, 2018 at 3:42 am

      Katherine, I know she would love to have a hug from you too. I had so much fun sitting a her table and hearing her stories. She told me several, but I didn’t get them because I didn’t have my computer ready. Darn! I had great times at Bonnie’s when I was growing up. I was so pleased she shared her story.

      Reply
  3. Kimberly Weninger says

    September 4, 2018 at 2:29 am

    My friend Helen has been a staple in my life as long as I can remember. She was one of my mother’s dearest friends and when mom took sick she was one of the places some of us 7 kids were farmed out. She was the person who gathered me in her arms and told me mom died. I was 9. Since that time she’s always been there for me; through thick and thin. She has loved me like a daughter and my family cherishes her so very much. I think the world needs more Helen’s to help the world be a little brighter. Love you sweet pea!

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 4, 2018 at 3:39 am

      Kimberly, your words are precious, and I agree with every word. She is a hard act to follow. She is so accepting and open and always so much fun.

      Reply
  4. Linda Palser says

    September 4, 2018 at 4:22 am

    I was more than eager to read Helen’s story. She has a special gift of loving people where they are. Helen loved Roy so much, and was never embarrassed to tell a good story on him. If her life were written, I would expect the pages would be too numerous for a single volume, not just for the continuing length of her life, but more for the innumerable adventures. She is truly an heiress with Christ, a mentor, surrogate of motherhood and grandmother-hood. I once told my husband, Larry, that if I died before he did, he had my permission to marry Helen. Thanks for sharing!

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 5, 2018 at 4:01 pm

      Linda, your words about Helen are such a tribute to her. And, they are so true in my experience too. Like all of us, she has a million stories. I wish I could have written fast enough to get all the stories she shared on that special afternoon. It is hard to imagine she is ninety-three; she lives alone, has a spotless house, drives in and out of town, moves a sprinkler around to water her big yard, and has a rich circle of friends and family. Somehow, she figured out early how to have the life and health we all want. She is a gift to those who know her. I love the picture too. Her smile (and laugh) lights up a room!

      Reply
  5. Linda Cook says

    September 5, 2018 at 2:10 am

    She is a very special lady we I meet her she treated me like she had known me for ever

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 5, 2018 at 3:52 pm

      I can believe that. Whenever I get to see Helen, my day improves:) True.

      Reply
  6. Cathy Drum says

    September 5, 2018 at 4:19 pm

    Jennifer, thank you for sharing a piece of Helen with the world! She and her sister Norma along with Mrs . Ressler were a firm foundation for we young mothers in our small church. Helen never failed to point us toward the One who knew and understood our deepest thoughts and concerns, the One who is unchanging in love, acceptance, and forgiveness. What a rich legacy to watch continue throughout the generations! Helen is a picture of Love

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 5, 2018 at 4:52 pm

      Cathy, “Helen is a picture of Love” says it all. I can only imagine how powerful her words and example were for all of you. Thank you for sharing!

      Reply
  7. Marta Wells says

    September 6, 2018 at 2:27 am

    Loved the story and all the comments! God is love and Helen lives it. What a beautiful woman inside and out. A great role model for all of us as we gracefully age.

    Reply
    • Jennifer Goble says

      September 7, 2018 at 5:31 am

      Marta, so true! Gracefully is a good word, and Helen is a model for sure!

      Reply

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