2
Life as a Single Girl
I had been working at Caterpillar Tractor four years when World War II was declared...a time when oh-so-many lives were changed. Living in the San Francisco Bay area meant there were soldiers and sailors to be seen everywhere. Girls were urged to attend the many USO dances arranged weekly in many places for the entertainment of Servicemen who were at nearby training camps or on temporary leave from ships or local duties. My girl friends and I joined the bus loads being taken to the dances and we all had fun. I lived at home and, as I may have mentioned before, my mother was a great cook. She was willing for me to invite servicemen to our home occasionally for meals. I met very nice young fellows away from their homes in Texas, Oregon, Southern California, Arizona and Nevada. There were three (one soldier and two sailors) who wrote regularly from the places they were eventually sent. Two of these men had serious intentions I did not share.
It was not until 1948 when I had been set up with a blind date with Dick (right) that I found what I wanted in a man to share my life. Was it Serendipity again? Neither Dick nor I had anything in common with the casual friends who had arranged this blind date for us...and the dance we attended that night would never have been one of our choices. Apparently Dick felt the same attraction because from that night on, we dated regularly and often. We were engaged in two months and married in four months.
Before beginning writing about the remaining years of our lives, I want to tell you about the importance of girl friends in my life. I want to record this because of certain people who have been important to me and because I detect in our present culture the lack of simple pleasures young ladies have in doing "girl things."
My first playmate up to age six was Ernestine, in Bakersfield, whose family raised sheep. Next girl friend was after we moved to Oakland and I met Peggy Bunker in the first grade at the Lakeview Elementary School. She lived in a big house with so many wonderful stairs and rooms where we could play. We enjoyed one another very much. Our friendship drifted apart when my family moved from Park Avenue to a home my folks bought in east Oakland at 3140 11th Avenue. I then had to change to the McChesney Elementary School where I met Betty who lived just over the hill from my new home. Betty and I were close friends until she and her father moved away. She and I were in the 7th grade at the Oakland High School. It was not long before I met June Kallosser who lived on 10th Avenue a couple of blocks away. June's very good friend Helen Murphy soon became my friend too. These two precious girl friends were two of my bridesmaids and were also bridesmaids for Myrna and Harold's wedding. Both June and Helen still live in Walnut Creek and we keep in touch by phone and mail since we are all in our 80's and no longer drive long distances. During War II, June married Tom and moved to where he was stationed, while Helen and I were busy working, going to USO dances and dating here at home. After Helen started to work, she bought a Chevrolet car. She named the car Adam and one summer, after the War was over, we toured Oregon and Washington on a never-to-be-forgotten trip. While working at Caterpillar Tractor a fellow employee, Beryl Sypher, became a long-time friend and later, one of my bridesmaids.
What fun friends can have together! I feel sorry for youth today because nowadays friendships of this kind would be "suspect." During my marriage years there have been many more friendships enriching our lives, but I will save these to talk about later.
Culture of the Times
The behaviors, attitudes and manners expected as normal for the growing child in any youth were standard. Possibly the comparison of the following list of descriptive terms will explain all:
Expected: Be kind, nice, good, friendly, pleasant, giving, get along, act polite, use proper language, no swearing, others first, obedience to all rules, do-as-mother-says, teen-group parties, single-dating in late teens, clean and body-covering clothing.
Not Acceptable: Bullying, bad/foul language, fights, grabbing, snatching, shoving, me-first, disobedience to parents, disobedience to school rules, early-teen dating, dirty bodies, soiled clothing.
In retrospect I believe I was very naive about what had been progressing around me. It was not until I was actually shocked when our son brought home from high school the general acceptance that "nice" was really a "prissy" word and not how a young person would like to be described.
Married Life Begins
When we married, Dick was working for his good friend, Jay Fike, learning the linoleum and carpet business at Jay's store, and I was still working at Mike Roberts Color Productions. It was before we were married we found a little old house on E 28th St. owned by one of the members at the Presbyterian Church. The house had been built in 1906 and it was a "livable" dwelling. The big attraction was that the rent was $25 monthly! There was another Serendipity since my folks' home was just three blocks away.
Did I mention before that Dick was a talented worker? With his skills laying linoleum, he installed the most beautifully designed kitchen floor I had ever seen. Then he laid tile flooring throughout the two bedrooms, living room and bath in this old house. I liked doing things with my hands, so I made drapes for the two bedrooms, painted the kitchen, bought and upholstered used furniture. I had fun painting the bathroom with green and white stripes on the old tongued-and-grooved wall paneling, adding a scalloped green "awning" look for the ceiling. We were having an adventure, fixing up our future home.
We had a lovely wedding at the Park Boulevard Presbyterian Church where I had been attending. Sister Myrna was my maid of honor and my best friends Helen Murphy, June Kallosser, and Beryl Sypher were my bridesmaids. Dick's attendants were his brother Bill Smith, best man, and friends, Harold Rebholtz, (Myrna's husband), Jay Fike and Angelo Covestry. Harold's and Myrna's beautiful little six-year daughter was our flower girl. My dear uncle, Lyman Ogden, walked me down the aisle (because my father was partially crippled due to his stroke) and Daddy gave me away. The date was March 27, 1947. Our honeymoon was at Yosemite National Park.
Things went very smoothly with Dick's work at Jay's store on San Pablo Avenue and my work at Mike Roberts Color Productions. It was fun having friends visit us in our new home. Dick was always busy with some new project; he had an interest in growing vegetables, and I grew flowers. Dick liked to build things, was mechanically skilled and liked to work with his hands. He liked to hunt, fish and ride his big Harley Davidson motorcycle. Dick had been a member of the Assembly of God Church in Oakland, but attended the Presbyterian Church after we were married.
Then came the time that I became pregnant and we could plan on the arrival of our baby in December, 1950. Randall Rusling Smith arrived December 10...a beautiful, healthy 8-3/4 pound boy. I quit work and became a mother homemaker, the job I had looked forward to as my occupation from that time forward.
In October, 1951, we bought one of the many tract homes under construction on Lilla Road in Hayward. It cost $10,500 and we got a California Veteran loan at 3% to cover the amounts we could not pay in cash. Awesome! This would make a long commute for Dick, but we thought this would work out all right. This idyllic situation lasted until Thanksgiving Day, 1951.
Things Change!
Thanksgiving Day was unusual in that Dick had no appetite and just "didn't feel good." The next day we wanted to see how the building was going at the new tract home where we expected to live one month later. Dick didn't want to drive but I remember, as we walked about the house, he became tired as he carried Randy (now 11 months old). Saturday he felt worse so I phoned our family physician, Dr. Mills, at his home. He sent me to the pharmacy for medicine. Sunday Dick was unable to walk and Dr. Mills told us to take him to Merritt Hospital. To the rescue came Bill and Harold to carry Dick to the car. I followed in our car while my dear mother took care of Randy. Dick was quickly admitted to Merritt Hospital and as quickly dismissed. The doctor on duty was very familiar with Polio and he wanted Dick out of that hospital immediately, and sent him to the Alameda County Hospital Immunization Ward. Dick was on his way before I heard the news of shat was happening. Life's adjustments began from that moment forward.
(Another "Serendipity." The Alameda County Hospital was just one block from our home on E 28th St. and four blocks from my folks' home. This made visiting Dick very easy. Before I returned to work I could easily be there twice a day.)
The hospital Polio wards were filled with Iron Lungs. An epidemic was in process. Dick's prognosis was ominous but after three days he was expected to live. He was one of the "lucky" ones. His home was now the Iron Lung for 1-1/2 years until, during the last few months he was gradually weaned from the "tank" to other breathing devices which helped him breathe on his own with one half of his diaphragm working.
Some may not be aware of how an Iron Lung works, so I will do my best to describe its function. Visualize an empty 3-ft. round iron tube, about 7-1/2 feet long on wheels. One end is sealed and the other end has a door to open. The "open end" of the tube is made to swing away while the patient is being moved in or out of the tank. The open end is made with a devise that seals around the patient's neck after the patient is inserted into the tube. Along the sides of the tube/tank are ports with rubber seals into which nurses can reach into the tube and take care of the patient's needs without allowing air to escape. The tube has a bellows at the sealed end which allows a motor to push air in and out. This causes a positive pressure to expand and deflate the patient's chest to breathe! (It was scary one night when the hospital power failed and all nurses were frantic to pump all the iron lungs by hand.)
When the time came that Dick could be transferred somewhere for rehabilitation away from the County Hospital, he was referred to Kabat Kaiser Rehab Hospital in Vallejo, California.
During the 1-1/2 years Dick was in the Alameda County Hospital I, first of all, moved from our home on E 28th St. With the invitation of my dear parents, I returned to my old home and room at 11th Avenue in December, 1951. Mike Roberts asked me to return to work in January, 1952, this time as Art Director for the printing firm. Mother, who adored Randy, took care of him during the day. How fortunate Dick and I were. (More Serendipity blessings!) Next, I sadly had to trade in Dick's beautiful Packard Convertible (which he had kept in perfect condition) to buy a new Nash car suitable for me to transport him. At that time Nash cars had reclining front seats and a large passenger door, so the last two months before he was transferred I could bring him home for a day's visit. How? (Dick was 6'2" and I...5'3"). Each move took three people lined up on one side of Dick; one for head and shoulders, one for the hips and one for the legs. At the hospital the orderlies helped load him into the car. At home I had to arrange for two more people besides me to help haul Dick from the car to the wheel chair. More than once I had to call the police hoing to have a patrol car in the area to provide me with two officers to help get Dick to the wheel chair...then turn the wheelchair wheels while I guided the chair backwards up the eight steps into Mother and Dad's home. Dick had been released from the Tank, but he was still very paralyzed. No muscles seemed to be working and he still had his tube opening into his neck which allowed suctioning of his lungs. A mechanical minded friend figured out a way to attach a suctioning device to one of the windshield tubes on the Nash, so if Dick began to choke in the car I could suction him there. Never underestimate what you can do when the need is there!
When we arrived at Kaiser Rehab Dick was evaluated and we were given encouragement that he would improve. And he did! He eventually gained trunk muscles that let him remain seated vertically (without falling over). He had a small muscle on the left bicep that allowed him to lift, when needed, a non-functioning left forearm and hand. With the left bicep he had the power to lift, with the "dead" forearm, his right arm, which had no movement at all. BUT on the right hand the ring finger could move at Dick's command!! So, Dick eventually learned how, while seated in his wheel chair and with special forks on his right hand, he could feed himself. As for walking, therapists tried and tried, but there was no possibility of Dick walking even though there were very slight movements in both thighs.
It was during the 1-1/2 years at Kaiser Rehab that another very important event happened in Dick's life. Several of the orderlies who took care of Dick were young men, plus one especially kind, retired missionary, who were attending the Adventist Pacific Union College in Angwin, near St. Helena, California. Dick became good friends with these kind fellows and over time, Dick learned much about the Seventh-day Adventist beliefs. Eventually Dick became convinced that he must be baptized into this church fellowship. This major event happened after Dick left the hospital and became acquainted with Elder Mellor, minister of the East Oakland Adventist Church. It was a very emotional and teary experience to witness Dick being strapped to a chair, carried into the baptistery by three orderlies who came all the way from Vallejo to assist the minister to baptize Dick. From this point on Dick became an even more conscientious and learned Bible student.
Because I was still working for Mike Roberts in Berkeley, I could, about twice a week, drive from work to Vallejo and visit Dick before returning home to Oakland. Sometimes I would sleep in the car overnight because with Nash's reclining seats I had a tolerable bed. After some months I was able to bring Dick home for a weekend visit on special occasions.
Other things were happening in the Oakland home. Mother and Dad figured out a way to enlarge the basement in their home. With the help of Uncle Lyman, my brother-in-law Harold, sister Myrna and mother, the basement was excavated further to allow a small kitchen, under the stairs from the upper level, then a living room with a new outside entry, a bedroom and a clever, small bath tucked under the main floor's front steps. My contribution was laying floor tiling (with Dick's instruction) and all the painting needed. Randy remained in my previous bedroom upstairs. Eventually it worked out we could have him downstairs with us on weekends. In May 1955, Dick was released from Kabat Kaiser Rehab Hospital and we could live in the newly created basement apartment.
Homecare was a must, so we hired M-F day help for Dick while I worked and mother took care of Randy. We could have written a book about the experiences we had with the services of five different attendants over a period of five years. The experiences ranged from good to bad. Later I will explain how it was the extreme joy of Dick's life when he could say farewell to hired home care.
Our house in Hayward had been rented all of the hospital years and the years following. Then, another Serendipity made itself known. How? Because we realized our tract of inexpensive homes were all built with slab floor construction...perfect for wheel chair use! So, it was when Randy was eight years old, Dick and I thought that we could consider moving into our own home as a complete family. I designed a new bathroom to be built on a back bedroom where Dick's needs could be accommodated. When that was finished, on August 10, 1958, the Smith Family of three moved into 23373 Lilla Road, Hayward. A major event!!
